Mike was a chandelier salesman
You knew this from the moment you first met him, because he would tell you this. As an adult you learn to question the truth of what new people claim, but as a child his introduction was accepted without question. This was fine because, as it turned out, it was absolutely true.
I would ask him about it. He liked that. Over time he got close to my parents and became an uncle of sorts. Long evenings were spent hearing stories about his time in the RAF.
Human psychology.
Democratic leadership.
“As a sergeant you can order people to do things, and they’ll do it, but they’ll hate you for it. You have to be democratic and include yourself in the solution. Show that the task isn’t beneath you, you simply need their help to achieve it. Because you have lots of things to do. Then it’s seldom a problem.”
Salesmanship.
“If you’re selling ice cream and ask people ‘do you want an egg in it?’ Most people will say no. If you ask ‘do you want 1 or 2 eggs in it?’ most people will say 1. It has nothing to do with critical thinking. And you’ll sell some eggs too.”
One Christmas we played connect4 every night. It was intense playing. Fiercely competitive. We would taunt each other like Darth Vader in his TIE fighter. I was too young to drink what he was drinking, and too motivated to sleep. So we stayed awake.
That same holiday I confided with him that I wanted a porno magazine that had been sat in the magazine rack outside a local shop. He went with me the next day and bought it. No problem. Walked back out of that shop and handed it to me.
“There. There’s nothing weird about being curious about sex. You’re human. Whenever you feel awkward about buying a magazine or whatever, just ask, and I’ll get it for you.”
Thinking back on it now, I find it odd that he hadn’t been married before. He did later on, hitting well above his weight. I suppose for relationships to last the common factor is often children, of which he had none. For a long while he dated a divorcee with a teenage daughter, and he evidently knew how to be involved without being pushy. I took it as read at the time, but thinking back I release now he was one in a million.
I actually suspect he was in love with my mother. When she died it broke him. I didn’t see him for a while after that. A few years later I saw him back at our holiday home with his new fiancée. I could see that he couldn’t reconcile how my dad had remarried and just moved on. The two men had drifted apart.
The glue had been my mother.
