There has been unprecedented inteest shown in Slimish the Commish and as a result, I have been asked to recount one of the greatest Slimishes of all time. A little background is needed. Since the early 60's I have been a big fan of Peter Paul and Mary. One of the highlights of my college career ( right up there with almost making the Providence College GE College Bowl team as a freshman...Do you know the names of both Don Quixote's and El Cid's horses?...Answer== Rosinante and Babieca, respectively) was seeing PPM in person four times, but never up close. Fast Forward to the mid 90's. PPandM are to appear at the beautiful Meyerson in Dallas, but allas (get it, get it ) I found out too late to get any tickets for this sold out concert. I somehow learned that against all odds you can go to the ticket office of sold out concerts at the Meyerson two hours early and purchase "conditional tickets" that will get you a seat in the event of no-shows on a first come first served basis. I was there 3 hours early with about 30 other Lost in Lets Remember baby boomers. It was like an NPR refugee camp and with all that time on our hands, close friendships soon developed as little circles formed to talk about past PPandM concerts and other 60's trivial pursuits. None of us had been to Woodstock but I assumed some level of aristocracy because I had actually attended a Newport Folk Festival in my day. I became a special hero to two fellow PPandM wannasees, Bill and Sam, who were especially worried about being seated and then later challenged for their seat by the rightful but tardy owners. The authorities assured us that once we were escorted to the vacant seats about 5 minutes after show time, then those seats were ours and the management would deal with any po'd patrons. Subsequent events were to place this statement right up there with the three other greatest lies of all time, but not too worry , I expected that, so I instructed my two new lifelong friends in what to do if someone came looking for their seats. I explained the NECCO Wafer principle which is short for NO EYE CONTACT CREATES OMNIPRESENCE. I told them that if people start yelling about us sitting in their seats, we are to look straight ahead as if they didn't exist. The result would be that other audience members would embarass them into giving up their plight because everyone would be anxious for the show to begin. I was convinced that our little band of brothers was ready for any attack aon our space.
Like clock work at 8:05 pm our group of about 20 hopeefuls was escorted to the back of the balcony and rather than being seated, we were told to take any seat available and to do it quickly. My underachieving comprades wanted to go for some low hanging fruit in the second to the last row of the balcony, but I would have none of it. I quickly pointed to 3 seats together downstairs==second row center and off we ran. We took those seats in the best of Slimish style , congrtulating our selves with sincere high fives that only a trio that has worked together to achieve the impossible can understand (you know kind of like the refs in game five of the recent NBA finals). I was in heaven and to my two new friends I was like Moses, having led them to the promised land.
But right before the show was to begin, this couple nervously pointed to us and their tickets and politely asked us to move, What do we do now? said my slimy partner, Bill, two seats to my left. Without taking my eyes off the microphone directly in front of our primo seats, all I said was "No Eye Contact", remember those two people do not exist. Only PPandM, you two and me exist, and the six of us are going to enjoy this concert right from where the six of us are now sitting. As I had predicted, the ruckus was now getting embarrasing. The usher was asking us for our tickets which of course did not exist, but that was ok because in my world the usher didn't exist either. Finally the pressure got to be too great for Bill and he bailed, which did nothing to alleviate the problem because there was an angry couple looking for two seats, not one. It was getting tense as two more ushers joined in on the negotiations. Finally the pressure got to be too much for Sam, my remaining comrade and he said to me, "Well, Mike, it was a nice try but it looks like we are going to have to move. True to the NECCO Wafer principle I just looked straight ahead and didn't say a word to Sam, for you see Sam, just like the angry couple, the three ushers and the 2000 impatient members of the audience no longer existed in my world. It was just Peter Paul and Mary and me. As Sam departed, dejected, having lost both his seat and his new bestest friend the couple angrily took the two seats next to me. The girl stated in a rather loud voice, "Can you believe those assholes" and then she stared right at me and said "That includes you too, buster". I would like to more fully describe the look on her face as she profaned this hallowed ground where PPandM were about to perform but as you now know It is my rule not to make eye contact in situations such as this.
Bravo, Commish. Thanks for sharing. I hope your PP&M story serves to inspire your blogaudience in future endeavors. It's helped me out on more than one occasion in the past, and I'd like to take a few minutes to share one of those times.
Step into the Way-Back Machine with me for a second and travel back in time to when I was a working stiff, chained to a desk, and connected to the phone for 12 hours a day......
From time to time, my generous employer would have little pep rallies to excite the workforce. The rallies would normally include excited high-level managers from one of the other buildings blabbing on a microphone, talking about the numbers for the quarter, and blah, blah, blah. Sometimes they even had prize drawings for zip drives, scanners, or Gameboys (all of which I somehow won). Anyway, at one such rally, each sales team (about 12 people per team) was supposed to come up with some sort of song and dance skit. I never went to summer camp or even an Aggie Fish Camp, but that's the kind of thing I'm talking about. On most teams of twelve, there'd be at least one person who'd get excited about this kind of thing - you know, the kind of girl who may have been a cheerleader in a former life who was good at writing bubble letters and knew how to use a glue stick. Well, my team was different. We were a band of brothers, all dudes, and wanted nothing to do with either coming up with or performing any kind of skit for the pep rally. One of the guys on our team made a half-way attempt at coming up with something, but no one else on the team bought into it at all.
Fast forward to the day of the big rally: our team, along with half of the other sales teams, was about to be set free from our desks for 40 minutes or so to take part in the big fun. The team was in a panic, my teammates were scrambling, trying to come up with last minute solutions to a what looked to be a potentially embarrassing situation for all of us when our team got called to the stage to perform.
Just then, a plan hit me. Years of growing up under Commish were about to pay-off. I realized that our manager, for which our team was named and identified by, was not going to be at the rally. So I gathered the troops and started communicating the plan.....
When the guy with the microphone called for "The Keeney Team" to step up to the stage, what if there was no Keeney Team???? He'd have to move on to the next team, right?
"So, what Chris, we just don't go to the rally?? We just stay at our desks and remain on the phones instead? That's not good."
Oh no, that wouldn't allow us our desired break from the insanity of talking to Bubba all day about 'gettin' one-a-dem compooters' he saw on tv. No, my Commish-inspired plan would require a little more effort on our part, but the payoff would be much richer, allowing for our deserved time-off while also assuring we wouldn't end up on stage doing the chicken dance or some played-out Saturday Night Live skit.
Fast forward a little more, and it's now time for the rally. As planned, my teammates and I all got off the phone and made our way to the rally. After sitting through lame skits of fake game-shows, tv commercial spoofs, and one particularly embarrassing dance involving one of those tacky singing fish, our time had come. There we sat all in a row together, with the game plan in our head. It was time for us to perform, and perform we did.
"Next up, the Keeney Team. Come on up and show us what you've got....."
A deafening silence went over the crowd. That's right, we did nothing, did not move a muscle, made no eye contact with anyone, made no indication as to who were were, and therefore offered no excuse to why we didn't have a skit planned.
"Come on up, Keeney Team, we're all waiting....."
Crickets, I tell ya, crickets.....
We did not budge, didn't look at each other or anyone else, didn't chuckle or even crack smiles.
The silence was getting to be uncomfortable, but we weren't about to blow our cover. Finally, it got to the point that the unfamiliar manager on the mike knew he had to move on before the rally came to a complete halt and lost whatever momentum the signing fish had gotten him in the first place.
"Alright, I guess the Keeney team didn't make it out, let's move on....."
And there you have it. The Keeney Team stuck to the NECCO principles passed on by Commish and won big that day. By refusing to give in to the pressure and sticking to the plan of not making any eye contact, we had prevailed. I like to think our non-performance was actually the performance of the day.
As a postscript, I should mention that the NECCO plan is not suited for all situations. If you ever accidentally step on the back of Marcus Mitchell's shoes in the hallway at Vines, the no eye contact strategy will get you nowhere. In that situation, try to ignore the massive muscles bulging out of his thick neck, look him straight in the eye, man-up to what you did, and apologize profusely.
Posted by: Chris F. | June 26, 2006 at 01:15 PM
This is one of my all-time favorite Commish stories. You're at your best when rushing headlong into awkward social situations while sticking to the "Commish Rules" to survive.
NECCO is vital in other situations:
-Panhandlers/beggars
-Dining at a middle-eastern restaurant (unless you want to get pulled up into an embarassing belly dance)
-When encountering an old high school classmate that you don't want to acknowledge/speak to
If only the Necco strategy worked for dealing with entities like the IRS.
Posted by: Big Hurt | June 28, 2006 at 12:45 PM
need more hungers postings. work is slow today.
Posted by: Big Hurt | July 10, 2006 at 11:51 AM