I had only gotten to Law 7 when I lost the book...

On a flight from Lubbock to Dallas for a recruiting visit last November, I put this book in that little pouch under the tray-table. I subsequently got distracted and forgot it when I exited the plane. Why would I do that, you ask. Well, I had spent the better part of the hour-long flight wavering between sheer annoyance with and sincere compassion for the sad, (not-so-)little man next to me.

He and his co-worker had been in Lubbock on business from the Metroplex. Apparently, he was "in sales" and the guy on the aisle was a software developer. Their personalities couldn't have been more different: the salesman was stereotypically loquacious (I'm being nice here; the guy hardly shut his freakin' yap!) and the techie was quiet and reserved.

As we left the ground and the salesman's near-monologue rambled on, prideful boasts about his professional ethic of "in it for the money, in it to win it" transitioned into an exposé of his personal life. Divorced and a father of two, he and his ex-wife continue to bicker and complicate each other's day-to-day with dysfunction after selfish dysfunction. Worse, they argue over who gets the kids when it's convenient, yet then argue over who has to take the kids when it infringes on their personal lives (especially their complicated new romantic endeavors). The brief (and so-vague-as-to-raise-many-doubts-about-their-veracity) forays into his sexual exploits as a newly-single man took me to new heights of disdain.

But then I remembered that my parents were there once (well, maybe not *THERE* there, but). They had been worn raw by the efforts to dissolve a marital union. My mom and dad had gone through the awkwardness and confusion of a shared custody arrangement. And while I did feel that the salesman was likely not taking the same approach my mom and dad did, I could hear the hurt behind his hubris, the fear behind his frustration.

Sure, he insulted my tie, thought I was far younger than I was, and called me by some hick name I now can't recall ("Bubba" or "Earl" or something), but this guy, by the end of the flight, had both me and his good-natured co-worker both committing to pray for him and his kids (the programer dude said it out load and I did so silently).

As a child of divorce, I consider it truly a blessing that the adults in my life looked out for me and my well-being as much as they did. I'm not saying the salesman wasn't concerned about his kids or doesn't love them; it just wasn't evident in all of that talking (you'd think that somewhere in there he'd have thrown them a bone, even if to just to look good). That said, if he does half was well as my three parents did, he could be doing a lot worse, I'm sure.

Though I didn't finish the book, this I know: caring about others' well-being as much as or more than your own is not one of the 48 Laws of Power. The book is all about Machiavellian stratagems and deceit. I don't want to learn the 48 Laws so as to use them; I want to learn them so as to identify them and defuse them.

The last time I "went 'woo hoo!'" was on my way home from work yesterday. The Eagles' song "Already Gone" was on the radio and, while I know it's a break-up song (see previous plinky prompt answer here: http://www.plinky.com/answers/30469), I was "already gone" from work, so it just fit.

Anyway, the part of the song that I was singing to goes like this:

But I guess you felt like you had to set things right
Just remember this, my girl, when you look up in the sky
You can see the stars and still not see the light (that's right)

And I'm already gone
And I'm feelin' strong
I will sing this vict'ry song, woo hoo hoo (my, my) woo hoo hoo

Well I know it wasn't you who held me down
Heaven knows it wasn't you who set me free
So often times it happens that we live our lives in chains
And we never even know we have the key

But me, I'm already gone
And I'm feelin' strong
I will sing this vict'ry song
'Cause I'm already gone
Yes, I'm already gone
And I'm feelin' strong

So, there I was, headed home to see my beautiful bride and my baby boy and I really meant it when I sang, "woo hoo hoo!"