Zig Ziglar and a Fork in the Road

If you’ve ever been fortunate enough to meet someone you considered a “hero” you will be able to relate to this.  This falls under the umbrella of true confessions as well as a story about meeting someone I admired. 

I have always been a tremendous Zig Ziglar fan.   His soothing drawl and self-deprecating humor paved the way for a message that was always on the spot correct.  When I became an “account executive” (read salesperson) in the eighties I submerged myself in self-help, pull-yourself-up-by-your-boot-straps-and never-give-up tapes.   I made positive reinforcement cards and taped pictures of things I wanted in life to my mirror just as Zig instructed.  I played his tapes in the car, on my cassette player in the office and in my mind as I bolstered my courage before I made a sales call.   Zig was the bomb.

Fast forward to about 2007, somewhere in that area.  I was managing eleven, twelve, thirteen or fourteen radio stations for Clear Channel, depending on what year it actually was.  I was also President of the Ohio Association of Broadcasters, and we were holding our yearly convention at a big hotel in Columbus. Our keynote speaker? You guessed it….Zig Ziglar!!

I knew I would at least get a chance to shake his hand; but knowing what a big fan I was the director of OAB had arranged for me to sit beside Zig at the head table.   It was a thoughtful thing for her to do; I was actually nervous about trying to make small talk with one of the most famous motivational speaker of all time!

Lunch time finally arrived.   I greeted Zig and we sat down at the big round table in front of the stage where I tried to engage him in conversation.   His answers were pretty well confined to yes and no.  Others at the table also worked to get Zig into an exchange of some sort.  I just remember him being polite but not at all the Zig I’d listened to for endless hours.  There was no snappy repartee…just yep and nope and an occasional head bob. 

As we labored through this less than comfortable meal I really wanted to ask for his autograph.  His reluctance to be pulled into the conversation at the table paralyzed me; I just couldn’t ask for an autograph from this guy.   I wanted the other Zig Ziglar!

Eventually it was over….the longest lunch of my life.  I had failed to engage my hero in any meaningful conversation and, as he was introduced on stage the chance to do that sailed away.  Zig stood, put his napkin on the table and turned to wave to the crowd.  As went up onto the stage he grew straighter.  By the time he reached the last step there was a bounce to his walk and a light went on inside him.   The quiet, almost morose, man with whom I had just shared an agonizingly long lunch WAS Zig Ziglar!

I sat entranced as I watched Zig pace the stage.  He laughed and gestured with the mike and his patter was mesmerizing.  This was the pro I admired, and he held the crowd in the palm of his hand as he delivered the magic of his positive message.  He was amazing….and I hadn’t even asked for his autograph.

So….and this is the true confession part…..I “liberated” his fork.  I know! I know! Thou shalt not liberate.  It isn’t something I’m proud of all these years later.  

Back in my hotel room I looked at the fork and thought about having it framed in a shadow box.  What would the caption on the brass plaque be?  “Look what I stole”?   Maybe an oak box with a red velvet interior; but that seemed awfully fancy to hold a stolen item.  The longer I looked at it the less I enjoyed the fact that I had Zig’s fork.  My career as a cutlery thief ended when I (reluctantly) dropped the fork onto my room service tray that evening as I mumbled, “Should have asked for the dumb autograph.”

I've wonder if Pinterest had been invented back then whether I might have kept the fork and done something creative with it.......

When I think about it there was, after all,  a karmic trade off in the whole thing.  Yes, I did get a fork that was used by the great Zig Ziglar, even if it was just for a little while….but now I can never pass a lie detector test.   Serves me right, doesn’t it?

                                                                    Life is Good