If Yes? Go to step 4.
If No? Consider the following options: a) Wait until you are objectively and emotionally ready to evaluate the information in its true light. b) Enlist the aid of a trusted and knowledgeable advisor to assist you in evaluating the information. c) Don't make the decision and physically move away from it until you 'are' objectively and emotionally ready to evaluate the information in its true light. d) When ready go to step 4.
Step 4: Answer the following questions: a) What are the best possible outcomes of the decision based on analysis of the verifiably accurate information? List out specifically. b) What are the worst possible outcomes of the decision based on analysis of the verifiably accurate information? List out specifically. c) What are the most probable outcomes of the decision based on analysis of the verifiably accurate information? List out specifically. d) Are you objectively and emotionally ready to evaluate between the different outcomes?
If Yes? Go to step 5.
If No? Go back to step 3.
Step 5: Weigh the most probable outcomes against the worst possible outcomes and ask the following question: Would making this decision be considered "Stupid" by me or by someone whose opinion I value and trust?
If Yes? Then don't do it! Get up and physically move away from the decision and don't come back.
If No? Then do it – but guard against being "Stupid" along the way."
(** Readers: If you would like a free copy of Andre's "Don't Be Stupid!" matrix, see the link at the end of this book.)
Andre sat the paper down.
Now, time to get Krissy and give her the great news!
Chapter 22
Three years later:
Sir, your 9:00 appointment is here,” his assistant said. She ushered in a tall, slender man in a grey pin-striped suit and silk lavender shirt and dark bow tie. He strode forward, his right hand brushing down his small, black mustache that reminded Andre of the TV detective, Hercule Poirot, even to the short black hair parted in the middle and the round spectacles sitting on his nose. In his left hand he carried an obviously expensive leather satchel. Andre struggled to keep from smiling.
“Hello, Andre. Thanks so much for seeing me. I’m Frederick Bombast.”
“Of course you are.” Andre stood and shook the proffered hand. He smiled inwardly. This was a bit like the image he’d pictured from his phone voice a little over a week ago; slightly nasally, cultured but sparkly with enthusiasm.
His assistant turned and pulled the door shut behind her.
“Please, sit,” Andre gestured to one of two chairs sitting across from his desk. Andre took his seat in the executive chair behind his desk. He had to admit, he felt a little humor at his guest’s appearance – and the name.
“Yes, it’s my real name,” Frederick said, taking a seat and crossing his legs. “I legally changed it some years back. I feel the name needs to represent the person, and this one suits, don’t you think?”
“So far,” Andre admitted.
“Now that’s out of the way,” Frederick said, “I know you’re busy, so I’ll get right to it.” He reached down and pulled four magazines out of his satchel and spread them across the desk. Each had Andre's picture on the cover with various captions. Andre recognized them all. “I mentioned over the phone I’m a Public Relations executive with Gruber and Associates out of New York. I know we don’t do your company’s PR work, but I want something more personal from you. It’s something that quite frankly, is our specialty.”
Andre raised his eyebrows. This voice and attitude was just like the man on the phone; the directness, the flamboyance and assumption of success.
"I want to do your autobiography, but in a revolutionary way. You have revolutionized computing, so whatever we do needs to match, to rise to that same level. I’m thinking we do something that crosses all platforms, is all encompassing and uses all media. Your success has brought in a whole new era in computing. We need to do the same with your autobiography. It can’t just be a simple book! No, it has to be a combination of electronic text, video clips – like a mini documentary, and interactive components!"
Andre's eyebrows rose again.
"You're the man of the hour!" Frederick continued leaning forward. He tapped his finger on the closest magazine. "Everyone wants to know all about you, what makes you tick, how you think, even what you wear. Gruber and Associates thinks now is the time for something like this. And if you do it yourself it will provide a more personal angle. Of course, I'll be here the whole way to make it happen." He smiled and sat back, crossing his legs. "What do you say?"
Andre was silent for a moment. “I have a contract with my company that stipulates I have to get approval for anything like this. Our processes are sensitive, and we need to vet any communications very closely.”
“I understand completely. No problem. I expect that. However,” Frederick leaned forward again. “What I have in mind is so different it would be hard to explain in a proposal. What I’m suggesting is we do a mock-up of the project first, and then present it to your board. We’ll show them rather than tell them. Nothing will go out to the public without their express consent so you’re following the agreement. It’s done all the time in pitching projects like these.“
Andre was hesitant. He was flattered, but . . ."I'm not sure I have to time to do a project like this. Besides, I'm not really comfortable sharing. It's a secret process, you know."
"Of course it is! And that's why people will stampede to get it. We'll dangle bits and pieces here about your work process, your personal philosophy, and how you think. Readers will devour it hoping to glean something to point them in the direction of the 'great secret.'
"Don't worry about time. We'll meet daily for an hour or two, say over lunch. You have to eat anyway. I'll interview you. I’ll do some video clips with my phone. I have some things in mind for some sample interactive bits; creativity tests, personality tests and such. They’re always a hit. And fun.
“You won’t have to worry about a thing other than just answering questions. I'm good at drawing out what we'll need." He smiled in a way that was professional but just a touch predatory. "We'll record everything," Frederick continued ignoring Andre's reaction. "Transcriptionists will type it out and I have an editor waiting to put it all into order and make sense. What could be simpler?
"Besides, it will make you seem more approachable and common. People will be more accepting of the changes you've brought. There are those who are resisting this, you know. Most don't like change. And you, Mister, are change personified."
Andre was flattered. He knew he shouldn't be. Something in the back of his mind told him this Frederick Bombast might be trouble. He was forceful, and not likely to take no for an answer.
"Oh, one more thing," Frederick said. “We may not even want to bring this up with your wife. I want her on board and like I said, it’s really hard to explain the vision without having the preview. I want her to wait and see the preview so she can get a feel for it before deciding. I know she’s your business partner, you see. But I also know she’s more pragmatic than you. Not as creative. We don’t want her to squelch anything until she gets the full picture.
“And again, I assure you,” Frederick held up his hand to forestall any objection. “Nothing is going out to the public until everyone necessary is on board. In fact, I have a contract right here that says just that, so you are completely covered.” He reached into his satchel and pulled out a short document.
Andre was taken aback. Frederick reached across the desk and patted his hand. "It's done all the time with superstars. We know the hoops we need to jump through and we do it well. There's really no risk or downside for you or your company."
"My wife and daughter . . . we want to keep our lives private. It's been tough, and this will only make it harder."
"Remember, you'll have full control. We won't discuss anything beyond the basics if you don't want, but remember. Everyone craves a good love story. I understand you
and Krissy were college sweethearts? We've got to cover that even if it's only surface stuff. And Allie is a new American Princess! I think she'd love that title, don't you?"
Andre laughed. "Allie would hate that."
"You'd be surprised; a sixteen year old girl being crowned a legitimate princess? What girl wouldn't want that? Daddy, you would be a hero ten times over."
"I really think I should at least talk this over with Krissy," Andre said, feeling it was probably going to be a mistake.
“What do you think she’d say based on what we’ve discussed so far?”
Andre was silent a moment, thinking.
“If I remember my research right,” Frederick continued. “Weren’t you a candidate for the NFL Draft?”
Andre was startled by the change in topic.
“Yes. I was told I just missed being drafted by about one spot.”
“Didn’t you consider being a walk-on for a team that had shown some interest?”
“You’ve really done your homework, and yes. I considered being a walk on.”
"Why didn’t you? It might have changed the course of history and you might be on a completely different path.”
“Krissy talked me out of it. She said I would be happier working with my computers and being closer to her and family. The life of an NFL player isn’t as great as it’s made out to be.”
“Was she right?” Frederick sat back again clasping his hands in his lap and crossing his legs.
Andre was silent for a moment, considering. “Yes, of course she was right. I probably never would have made the discovery if I’d been playing. And I would never have been able to spend the time I do with her and Allie.”
“But still you wonder what it might have been like. That was your real dream, wasn’t it?”
Andre was silent.
“Look,” Frederick said, once more leaning forward and clasping his hands in front of him on the desk. “Give me two weeks to get enough information for the prototype. Just two weeks of keeping this between us, and then we’ll be ready to show everyone. What do you say?”
Again, Andre remained silent then . . .
"Would you wait for just a moment please?" Andre asked, holding up a hand to keep Frederick from plunging on. "I have to look at something."
There was something about this meeting. Something about this man, the crisp suit, the bow tie and the flamboyant confidence that brought back flashes of . . . It was like they'd met before in 'this' meeting . . . But he knew they hadn't met before. Andre's feelings of discord were spiking inside yet he held his face calm. This was a critical junction of some sort. He didn't know how he knew it, but this decision seemed more vital than it ordinarily should.
Andre reached into his top front desk drawer and pulled out his "Don't Be Stupid" matrix. Over the last few years he'd refined it and had it laminated and kept it where he had easy access. He knew it by heart yet always liked to consult it so he didn't take a chance at leaving any step out. It was like an airline pilot running through his preflight checklist.
Frederick sat, fidgeting slightly but remained quiet.
Andre took a minute and consulted his matrix then put it back in his drawer.
"There," Andre said. He paused again.
"I'm sorry Mr. Bombast. Thanks for your kind offer, but I'm going to decline. My assistant will show you out. If you'll excuse me, I have to go check on the labs." He stood, went around the desk and shook Frederick's hand.
"But . . ."
Andre held up his hand again. "Again, I thank you for the kind offer, however the decision is final."
Frederick tried to speak again, but Andre kept walking out his door. The matrix had a step that once a decision was made you leave it behind. If Andre stayed he might be cajoled or tempted into agreement. He knew that would be 'stupid.'
He stopped by his assistant's desk. "Please show Mr. Bombast out." Then he made his way to the lab to occupy his mind with something else.
Chapter 23
Later on that evening Andre decided to go by the old house. He went down into the basement lab and sat at his old desk. He'd kept it just the same as he'd left it the night he had the breakthrough and developed his 'Don't Be Stupid Matrix' as he'd come to call it.
He reached into his satchel and spread the four magazines Mr. Bombast had left at his office across his desk.
Suddenly a feeling washed over him like he'd been here before. This time it was different. The lights were on and his mood was much different than . . .
The old feelings surged, all the feelings of guilt, sorrow, anguish and anger pressed upon him again. This time they start to slowly subside. Andre sat relishing the fading feelings. New feelings took their place: Hope, peace, satisfaction. It was like a crucible had passed and he hadn't been stupid! It's like he now had a whole new life. And that an old life, a possible life that had been haunting him, was dead and put away forever.
"Daddy?" Allie’s voice came from the top of the basement stairs. "Here you are," she said, bounding down the stairs followed by his wife, Krissy. Allie ran across the lab and wrapped her arms around him, hugging him from behind while he sat at his desk. It was his favorite thing about Allie, and for some reason, this time it felt better than ever before.
"Whatcha makin' today?" she asked.
"I'm making history!" he answered.
The End
Thanks for reading "Message from Tomorrow." If you'd like a free copy of Andre's "Don't be Stupid!" matrix, click [email protected] and in the subject line say, "Don't Be Stupid!" and you'll be sent a PDF attachment by reply email.
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