Chapter 4
Origins & Futures:
‘Prince,’ of Corporate
“There was happiness in his father‘s heart, because of his son who was intelligent and thirsty for knowledge. He saw him growing up to be a learned man, a priest, a prince among Brahmins.” --“Siddhartha”, by Hermann Hesse
Tom knew he was prince material; destined to be a prince, of the business world. It started the day that he went through the Carousel of Progress at Disney World. His parents had taken him and his sister to the newly opened theme park in its second season, and the impressive Monsanto house of the future and GE exhibits entranced Thomas. There, in the major corporate exhibits, he found a voice for his yearnings; and further confirmation of his nascent ambitions and perceptions. He saw that these companies had donated, out of their own benevolence, huge attractions that espoused their dreams for mankind. They professionally presented their view of American history, and a bright future of economic supremacy . It was not only inspiring, but one of the first major revelations in his heretofore short life. He felt that this was where he was destined to go. It felt ‘right,’ and he knew that he had to do whatever he could- to be accepted as an executive prince of America. He knew that he would feel at home, and in his element, in a fortune 100 company.
“Only the best will do,” he concluded.
There, he felt confident he’d receive the best of training; and gain complete freedom of expression, by being guided by the most principled and intelligent people in the world. These, he felt, were the people who were building the new world. The well trained executives who had the insight to perceive possible futures, the resources to pursue them; and were thereby able to work towards their creation. He felt that if he did anything less, his talents would be wasted and he would surely wither.
As a child he worked hard to make money. He delivered newspapers, sold packaged seeds door to door, and even set up concessions at town events. But every attempt ended in discouraging results. He achieved all that could be achieved in any one task; but it was never enough for his burning desire to have it all. So, to Tom, they were inadequate results. Then, he saw it…the allure of corporate
This was how he embarked on a sincere, and seemingly noble, path. He was a product of his times - it was the 1970’s. The establishment had been overrun by the longhaired hippies of the 60’s. They’d apparently rooted out the evil through public demonstrations, and open resistance to meaningless war. It was the dawning era of corporate responsibility for the public good. Or so it seemed.
Tom could feel the changes coming, and through his middle school years he could see that many people didn’t understand the coming changes. They were too damaged from drug use, and self-absorption. It was the focused, directed, and persistent that would rule - and he was destined to become one of them.
His friends still did crazy things, wanting to hang onto the rebellious ways of the 60’s- even though it was now 1972. Some did lines of cocaine on their desks, while the lights were out during film study class. A few of them had group sex under the auditorium stage, while the rest of the school was assembled above for the first, and very controversial, public educational films in ‘sex education.’ The irony was not lost on them. In fact, they kept trying to make a statement that no one heard, or maybe cared to hear. After the race riots of the late 60’s, no one was concerned with ’free love’ issues any longer. It was passé. So, Tom’s classmates were lost in a self-induced fog, a time warp of sorts. They were a little too privileged to feign neglect, but not so much that they could afford their expensive habits. As a result, many turned to petty crime to keep themselves in drugs.
Not Tom though. He kept clean, focused, and pure for this true calling- as he felt it. Building his résumé as those around him partied themselves into brain damage with acid.
He progressed on to be a leader in Junior Achievement . A program sponsored by ‘only the best corporations.’ He rose to the highest post in J.A., as president of the Achiever’s Association governing board. He spoke at local Rotary Clubs, and attended the National convention at
There, he was again assured of his true path. Mr. Simon, the Secretary of the U.S. Treasury, whose signature appeared on every dollar bill, told him and his thousands of peers so. He was to be a prince. If, he could stay the course, not fall to any temptation that would sully his growing reputation, and continually exhibit his pure intentions and sincerity.
He desperately wanted to belong, to excel, to prove his brutal classmates wrong by surpassing them; and, this was the path. A path that led him to Holy Cross College and Notre Dame University for further training in character, while he learned the more banal details of the world in academic classes.
It was a path that then led to the best undergraduate business school in the country, at the University of Michigan. He had a plan, early on, and he worked it; while being surrounded by less motivated, mostly blind, and sometimes clueless peers. He knew the true path, and he pursued it zealously.
He blazed a trail, he believed; while following the guideposts that had been meticulously, and subtly, laid out by those in charge.
******************
The gray
“Yet, it’s all cool,“ he thought.
He was content, and simply happy to be lost in his thoughts. He reveled at the luxury of being removed from day-to-day survival; to be able to reflect on new information, concepts, and dramatically new perspectives, without distractions. It was wonderful to be in a place where he felt so much at home. Here, everyone thought through things with due consideration; and loved to constantly discuss all manner of ideas and topics. It was intellectual freedom, and a cerebral challenge that fired Tom’s senses….besides being a retro-hippie haven, with radical and sexy places like smoky night clubs.
The café smelled of freshly roasted coffee, and only a few muffled voices penetrated the lulling background music- effectively filling any remaining emotional vacancy.
“That's why it seems so comfortable,” he thought randomly.
The close gray skies held down his spirits, while the smells of coffee filled his olfactory senses. The muted audio sounds provided the remaining sensory filler he needed, but they could easily be ignored. He felt cozy and comfortable. The world was at peace in his mind, and nothing intruded upon his peaceful state. As Tom considered this, David entered the café - waving hello. He walked in a slow, deliberate, and confidently relaxed way directly to Tom’s table.
“Hullo Thomas. A little spacey today, are we?” he said with a good-natured voice and warm smile.
It was one of David’s most endearing qualities. He could make fun of something obvious about a person, while turning it into a caring compliment. In the end, he provided reassurance that all was ‘ok’ anyway.... without any apparent judgments.
Tom laughed, and responded without hesitation.
“Its something that I’m trying to learn from you. But, I just can’t seem to perfect it the way you do!”
“Ha! Yeah, right! Piker.”
“Blah, blah, blah...” Tom countered, without hesitation.
“You ready to go Tom?”
“What's the rush? I’m fine here...well, for a bit longer. I’m watching the sun go down.”
“The sun? In
“Ahhh, that's where you are wrong, my friend. You’re just oblivious to the subtlety of it all since you grew up here. For those of us who just move here for school, it’s a great environment for introspection.”
“Like I said, boring and dreary!”
"Ok, you win. I’m just feeling good, and the cloudy skies seem to be embracing, not oppressive.”
“The whole fricking place is oppressive to me. I wish I’d stayed in
“Well, I agree, there is a noticeable lack of balance in people’s lives here. That reminds me of a story of what happened today. But before I go there, just remember that they’re training us to be the best and the brightest, to inherit the earth.........well, business wise, anyway. What could be more noble?” he joked.
“That requires focus, David, focus,” he said facetiously, with an overly serious emphasis.
“Well, lets focus on that pimple on your ass. Its more important!” he quipped with a hearty laugh.
“Damn, I didn’t think you saw that. Guess I can’t go to the gym showers with you anymore, if you’re looking at my ass all the time!”
This was how their banter began, and proceeded, and ended. It was fun, and lifted the onerous stresses of attending the toughest undergraduate business school in the country. While world’s a part childhood wise, they were partners in their contempt for their anal and ruthless classmates. Some were totally absorbed with business. So much so, that everything fell second to that burning drive to dominate. Admission into the two-year program was fierce, with thousands of applicants for 250 slots. Everyone had straight “A’s” in their first two years of study, wherever they were from. That put David and Tom into a shark pool; which Tom, for one, was challenged to survive.
The academics were tough, as expected; but the backbiting and treacherousness of the students was a new thing for Tom, and a hard adjustment. David remained above it all, due his wealthy family background. He openly distained the environment, and the people, for what they were. He understood the people, he just didn’t respect them; and therefore refused to be guilt-tripped into accepting their narrow, self-serving, culture.
They had met in Microeconomics class. David sat directly behind him. As outrageous comments were made by their stressed out professor, his barely audible comments made it to Tom’s welcome ears. Tom would laugh, as he heard them- as they provided a life saving monologue that kept him from totally freaking out.
Tom‘s first traumatic experience came during his first week, when his professor gave a lecture about “the perfect nature” of the economic system that “Knew everything, and adapted quickly and efficiently to all new developments and changes.”
According to the white faced and sleep deprived professor, who was stressing his publishing record...or lack thereof.... in an all too real environment of ‘Publish or Perish,’ the stock market was God’s indicator of reality. To him, everyone just had to accept that; and follow the ‘efficient market,’ wherever it took the world.
Tom, a budding entrepreneur who worked his way through high school and college by buying and selling everything from lumber to antiques at low prices, and then selling them for huge profits, was shocked at the absurdity of the man’s premise- something upon which the bright young professor staked all of his reputation. Tom was unable to restrain himself. He was concerned that he might’ve been really ignorant, and the professor was trying to teach him something he was too dense to understand. “How can a guy this smart, at this great school, be wrong?“ he worried silently.
Tom raised his hand, interrupting the lecture, to ask a question.
“Yes? What is your question?”
“Sorry to interrupt,” he started, but was interrupted himself.
“No problem, I want this class to be interactive. I hate lectures myself, and I’m sure you all have something valuable to add,” the professor interjected, making Tom even more nervous.
“Jesus, I’m sooooo going to make a fool of myself with this, why did I raise my hand?” he asked himself.
He answered himself just as quickly: “Because his perspective is skewed; and if he continues on with everything based upon this fallacy, I won’t be able to accept much of anything. I‘ve got to be missing something!”
Choking down his nervousness, Tom boldly continued on with his seemingly heretical thoughts. “Oh well, what the hell. I might as well let him know who I am! It might even help my grade for him to see that I’m thinking and paying attention.”
He started speaking, framing his question carefully: “Well, I think I understand what you’re saying about an efficient market that absorbs information and adapts to changes; but that’s limited to what’s fed into it, isn’t it? For example, all the SEC reports, filings, and public announcements made by companies become public record and are supposedly assimilated into the market ‘consciousness’ by analysts, and buyers, et cetera. But that also means that the market can’t possibly know everything that’s going on. It only knows what it’s told. Those reports are purposely obtuse, and therefore offer very little real life business information. How else can we explain the purchase and sale of undervalued companies, asset wise, and the profits people make on doing things like that? People find companies that have assets valued at historical rates, due to deprecation and dated accounting practices, understanding that the assets have a much higher market value than their book value. So they buy the company cheap, cut the company apart.... usually shutting down the production parts and firing all the employees; and then, sell the physical assets for a huge profit. So my question is: if the market is really as omnipotent as this guy would have us believe, that couldn’t happen, right?”
Tom was relieved and pleased with himself. Relieved, that he didn’t bumble his thoughts, and then stumble in nervous speech. And pleased, that he articulated his idea fairly clearly. He thought he’d started a new and interesting discussion on an otherwise dry topic.
Laughing slightly at Tom's apparent naïveté, the red headed professor rubbed his chin with the thumb and forefinger of his right hand as he pretended to consider Tom’s point. His right elbow rested in the cup of his left hand, and he looked like the perfect example of a respectable intellectual.
“Well, Tom. It is Thomas, right?”
“Yes,” Tom affirmed with a sincere and totally clueless smile...thinking that the young professor was being forthright in his consideration of his question.
“Well, Tom...” he started again.
Then came his authoritative, and thoroughly condescending, reply.
“What you are describing is a great example of how the market is all knowing. Through the example you are giving yourself, you can see that the market self corrects for temporary gaps in knowledge. If the markets didn’t self correct, that wouldn’t be the case, eh? You see, Tom...and you guys, Tom brings up a typical misunderstanding. So, its good he brought it up. Its because the market is informed of everything, that its so efficient. Of course there are temporary little gaps, but those are corrected quickly, eh?”
Flustered, yet still not accepting that he was the one that was truly naïve, Tom threw himself totally into the way of the conveniently simplistic theory, and the professor’s narrow perspective.
“But professor, how does that account for the knowledge that executives have about what’s happening within their company? They always know what’s going on better than outsiders, so how can a small investor from
“That's why there are inside trading rules being enacted, Thomas; so that everyone who participates in the stock market has equal opportunities to invest. No one is afforded an advantage over others.”
“Do you really believe that’s possible, given greed and human nature? It seems to me that the stock market is a formalized way to fleece the uninformed and inexperienced people; a way to use other people’s money for whatever purpose. How can a doctor in
“Thomas, we don’t have time to debate simple given facts. Read the chapter on market dynamics, and I’ll be happy to discuss it with you one-on-one someday.”
Surprised, Tom abruptly shut up, and his cynical ‘friend’ Bruce snickered with a silent look of: ‘you are sooo naïve! You just don’t get it, do you?’
As Tom was beginning to feel totally trashed, the period bell thankfully rang. People lurched out of their seats, glad to leave. Then Tom heard a friendly, disembodied, voice from behind him.
“First, lets assume we have a can opener.”
Tom didn’t understand what he said, but he could tell it was good-natured; unlike Bruce's gloating comments. He turned around and saw a tall, blond headed, guy with deep blue eyes who looked more like a surfer dude than a business student. The classroom was nearly empty...the professor being the first one to bolt out of the door to avoid further discussion. Tom knew that the ‘future one-on-one discussion’ would never happen. He could read the fleeting, but scared, look in the prof’s eyes when he didn’t relent. It forced the man to review his own perceptions, and exposed his fear that something could challenge the foundations of his ‘perfect system.’ The man’s mind snapped shut, thereby avoiding any possibly unsettling review. By rationalizing a way to dismiss Tom’s observations, he was able to hold onto his limited view of the world.
“What do you mean? Tom asked.
“Well, I think you hit a little too close to the truth for comfort. You’ve got to remember that economists don’t really deal in reality- even though they pretend that they can model it on a computer,” he quipped sardonically. He then continued, to reinforce his observation.
“There’s an old joke about three guys stranded on a desert island. One is an engineer, the other an accountant, and the third an economist. They have one can of beans. It’s their only food, and they’re trying to figure out how to open it. The engineer suggests that they ‘knock down a tree, and position the can on a hard surface so that the tree would smash it open.’ Not satisfied with that messy idea, the accountant says: ‘lets write down some calculations on what it would take to get the can open, and work on the problem until we’re sure that it’s right before we do anything.’ They couldn’t agree on either approach, so they ask the economist what they should do to. His response? ’First, let’s assume we have a can opener......’”
David delivered his joke with a good-natured laugh for emphasis, and then explained Tom’s misstep.
“Tom, you’re challenging this economist’s assumption of how the world works. He’ll never accept it, otherwise he’ll have to re-evaluate everything; and as a result, he won’t ever be able to be the expert who can say that he has all the answers. It means admitting that he doesn’t have the answers. It would mean that the stock market isn’t what they are trained to believe it is, and what they are trying to convince us ‘uninformed’ folks it is, so that we’ll dump our money into that black hole. Therefore, they have to say that the market ‘knows all’ so that it’ll be trusted by investors. Once people lose confidence in the stock market idea, the ’experts’ and ‘legal’ crooks lose everything.”
Both impressed with his logic, and with his compassion and patience in describing basic politics to him, Tom instantly respected him.
“What’s your name?”
“David. David Hewmay.”
“Thanks for your help. I was getting upset, and beginning to doubt my logic. It seemed like he was saying something stupid; but then again he is the professor, and is smarter and more educated than me...sooo...”
“Maybe he’s more educated, but I don’t think he’s smarter than you. Well anyway, his values are certainly different than yours.”
Tom was hit with another revelation; and it was a lot for him to handle. He’d never considered that smart people would pretend one thing, and do something else; and worse yet, try to ‘educate’ folks erroneously. He still believed that education was the ultimate pursuit of truth. Now he was forced into considering that some ‘education’ was to train people to do and believe certain things - for someone else’s, or some groups, ultimate benefit- regardless of the effects on others. For the first time, he had to consider that even really smart people tried to mislead others, rather than to elevate people’s intellect to some higher plane of awareness.
“After all, isn’t truth always truth; whatever it is?“ he questioned himself. “And the only impediment to discerning the real truth is the lack of education?”
Sensing Tom's broiling thoughts, David broke the silence.
“Do you have lunch plans?”
And so they became close friends.
Tom had been elated to receive his acceptance letter from
“Keep your nose clean,” he counseled himself over and over, “and learn all you can; so that you can join the real privileged class of
But he wondered exactly what he was there to learn. It was 1980, and he was finally swimming with players of similar ilk. However, he had a disadvantage that he was unaware of; one that would throw him onto an unexpected course in time. It wasn’t his modest upbringing, his Catholic education, his lack of sports/social skills, or his limited capital resources. It was a curse that his father had placed upon him…a curse against a ‘successful’ life of unrestricted business.
His parents had quietly, deceptively, and serendipitously imbued his character with a sense of conscience. It was this ‘flaw’ that inhibited Tom from learning all that he could have from his ruthless, and singularly obsessive, business school classmates. It was the unconscious acceptance of this fact that pushed him towards his new friends, David and Andrew; and the even stronger conscious denial of it, that pushed him towards his future wife, Sally.
Maurice Blin, a French artist who spent his last forty years of life in Saint Anne’s mental hospital, said it best: ‘Follow a woman, and she will flee. Flee a woman, and she will follow you like a shadow.’
They had met at a party in their dorms. It was a Valentines Day dance, and she was a pretty petit thing that swung easily when dancing in Tom’s arms. Tom naively mistook their neediness as love; and, his calculations for a family, as planning. It started well enough, with all good intentions on both parts, but both people were clueless about real love. Tom did what he thought was expected of a rising executive. He married a college sweetheart, and took a high level job at a huge consumer products company.
Although he loved her, he didn’t know how to love her; yet, he felt that good intentions could weather anything. This was the ‘right’ path for him, he was sure; and, it all went according to plan. His life was falling into place, and it resembled his image of the best kind of life. A combination of TV’s ‘Brady Bunch,’ and ‘Father Knows Best.’
For her part, she saw someone she thought shared her values, and she tried her best to live a happy life...as she perceived it. Tom was into being successful, rich, and powerful; being part of that was attractive to her.
He had achieved his goal from childhood, and snared the best job offer of his graduating class. With his accounting and finance major, he was accepted into the ‘financial management development program’ of the firm. He, and his MBA compatriots, were the golden boys of their generation...and treated as such.
*********
Tom’s first days at the multi-national corporation of his dreams were permanently etched into his memory - such was the impact of him having, finally, ‘arrived.’
The offices were white…very white. The white walls and white-carpeted floors were tastefully framed by beautiful cherry wood trim; and narrow, impossibly tall, elegantly curved French doors with beveled glass. Everything was immaculate, ordered, and perfect in its proportion, placement, and harmonizing elements. What little color there was, resulted from subtle changes in whites and creams. They flowed together to create a manmade environment nearly as perfectly balanced as an untouched natural setting.
The place had a strange effect on Tom. He felt awe, inspired, and a sense of manmade order that commanded respect in its totality. It existed outside of normal time and space, above everything that could possibly be disturbing in the everyday world of the city.
The environment was meticulously designed to be comfortable, and inviting, while being unassailable. Visitors here were at the mercy of whoever came to get them. Otherwise, they felt abandoned to the subtly intimidating perfection of it all.
“These people must be right. The place projects superiority, through
a high quality version of simplicity,” Tom observed silently.
Only the best materials were used, regardless of their practicality. Materials that wouldn’t survive one day of heavy continual foot traffic. Thus making it clearly evident that only the privileged few were allowed upstairs to the 14th floor reception area. That, of course, was managed too.
Access to the entire floor required a special security clearance, or the escort by a special person assigned to that task.
Then, when he approached the big reception desk, it was an experience in itself. The woman there was trained to never look busy, and to appear to only serve visitor’s needs; while she simultaneously maintained a quiet stranglehold on admission into the inner sanctum of the corporate elite - the floors above her, that rose progressively higher in esteem, as they rose in space.
Silence and enforced calm ruled. It was easy to forget that this wasn’t a naturally occurring phenomenon, a contrived human construct meant to invoke the very feelings that it did in Tom, and all visitors. Behind the scenes, it took a lot to support this setting. The receptionist had her own assistant in a back room that she could talk to at any time over her invisible microphone. Cleaning was almost perpetual, but done in an invisible way. And, silent, hidden, surveying camera eyes were everywhere.
Unlike a real natural environment, this place protected itself; and was obsessed with the perception of balance, rather than an evolved state. It looked like it was an improvement above natural environments, but it still was only a temporary construct. Just another creation of men to reassure themselves, and others, that they ruled supreme over everything.... including nature...24 stories above the ground.
No matter how perfect appearing however, such an environment, such an image, required a lot of work. Man’s shaky hold on his perception of superiority and control, no matter how impressive it was, was tenuous since it wasn’t a natural state. All works of man eventually fall, as a result of this reality of the planet. Nature eventually rules, except where humans destroy it in their arrogance and ignorance. Why man fought it, rather than complimenting it, was an eternal human puzzle. Maybe it was because barbarians have a propensity for action first, as an expression of strength and power, rather than the kind of disposition that encourages compromise and coexistence. But, Tom didn’t understand any of this. The feelings the place evoked were exactly those that were intended, and Tom felt like he had finally graduated into the big league...the corporate elite.
After years of planning, and a dogged persistence in gaining an excellent education in accountancy, finance, and business law, his hard work had paid off. He was ushered into the top floor offices of the President, and the Vice President of Finance, within fifteen minutes of arriving. He had been expected, so he was efficiently and warmly presented to the men in charge. Then, he was given his first office…an office whose exterior wall was floor-to-ceiling, wall-to-wall glass. It provided a commanding, bird’s-eye, view of
“These are the places where the powerful people work,” he observed, as he looked out of his office window at the beautiful city. “Building and managing companies that recognize character, self correct any mistakes, and inspire imitation by those not so ‘together,’” he believed.
Tom felt a wonderful sense of power and control by association; and the heady feeling of success that it engendered.
“I’m one of the chosen few to have the opportunity to learn under the best teachers,” he concluded.
His perception was enhanced by a corporate plan, that was initiated by the top executives through the creation, and cautious management of, their ‘Financial Management Development Program.’ Through this, Tom’s ‘golden boy’ group was constantly given privileges associated with the upper management--visible signs of status and power that spoke to everyone. They were given window offices, beautiful wooden desks, a selection of original art; and, most importantly, direct access to the highest levels of management.
Existing employees were clearly being informed to leave the ‘bright, fair haired, golden boys’ alone. They were the chosen successors to present management--and the builders of the new corporate world. The bringers of fortune, in their inscrutable ways. They were the princes of
Tom was proud of his highly honed intelligence and abilities. He had worked with, and graduated with, the best and the brightest. He was not only exposed to every known business concept, and corresponding methodology for implementing them, he absorbed the knowledge voraciously. It felt good. It felt ‘right’ because it felt powerful, and seemed like positive and productive action. All the things young men adore. Tools, knowledge, and the chance to use them to build and change things...to make their mark.... to show their stuff...to exhibit for all to see, their inherent right to superiority. And, in Tom's case, vindication over all those who had marginalized him in the past.
He had already ‘won’ over them now, and he was compassionate enough not to rub it in. Instead, he wanted to go further, to achieve unassailability. This was just the starting point, an opportunity afforded to very few, so he felt justly privileged. Tom envisioned a form of immortality by aggressively seeking dramatic successes, which would result in major changes and improvements in the world. Achievements like new factories, better living standards through higher quality products. Permanent things that would endure beyond his career, and make him rich in the process. He was a willing disciple of a new order that would change the world forever. He had purposely chosen a corporation which was an apparent leader in social responsibility, highly profitable, and flush with the cash to facilitate growth. The company gave free products to disaster stricken areas, redeveloped a ghetto area in
Once he started work, he was given near carte blanche by upper management. With his deft decision-making and analysis abilities, and lacking the sensitivity born of experience, it wasn’t too hard for Tom or his peers to earn their wings. Tom found inefficiencies everywhere, proposed changes, got permission, and then made correspondingly sweeping changes in business practices and personnel. It was a great high for Tom to be appreciated for his abilities, and to succeed at creating huge profits from revenue enhancing practices, or cost reductions. In one department alone, he saved the corporation tens of millions of dollars through his reformation of the corporate billings and receivables.
Tom felt he was finally at the level where his decisions mattered, and he was best suited to make them, given his training and abilities. This was his niche, and it felt wonderful and powerful to see the dramatic effects of his changes. For the first time in his life, he truly felt in charge of something, and he was able to exhibit for everyone to see, and reward, his innate abilities. Life was good, and Tom felt on a direct path to material and career success. He congratulated himself on all of his planning over the years, and all of the hard work it took to get here, and then to know what to do once he had the opportunity.
He had been right! His naysayers, the ones who took an easy route in college, were wrong. His career was going places, and they hadn’t even gotten off the blocks yet...and Tom knew, they probably never would. The best corporations were very selective of whom they chose to groom for leadership; and indecisiveness and inattentiveness weren’t desired attributes.
“If you didn’t care enough, or weren’t aware enough, to look out after your own interests, how could you possibly serve ours?” That was the unspoken question.
Tom was proud of the fact that he’d broken the sound barrier in Corporate America, right out of University.
“Now,” he cautioned himself, “I just have to pick my projects for success, and not mess up this opportunity. I won’t get it again; companies don’t accept broken goods. Be cautious, keep your own counsel, watch, learn, and then implement changes. The only one who can screw you up is yourself, Thomas.”
"Ok. Well, that's not going to happen!” he reassured his anxious self.
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