I’m jealous of Roger Horchow. He’s Gladwell’s example of a connector. Horchow knows so many people that he scored a 98 on the last name test in 10 minutes. I could only come with 37 names in seven minutes, but I don’t think given more time I could link more names. Also, my aunt’s last name is Weber, so I kind of cheated because she has a lot of kids. According to Gladwell, I’ll give myself a little credit, my score is higher than Gladwell’s calculated average for college students (20.96), but I don’t want to get too cocky.
Instead of studying for my Introduction to Rock and Minerals exam, which as it turns out is not “Rocks for Jocks” like I hoped it was, and covers complex technical information, I thought about connectors. On Sunday I became obsessed with the idea, my jealousy consumed me. I was talking about it with my friends; they didn’t share my passion. I thought about it all Monday, when I should have been studying crystal systems, and the ratio of silicon to oxygen in the subgroups of silicates (see, that is definitely not covered in “Rocks for Jocks”). How can I be a connector? I know I’m only 22, and should assess my last name count when I’m older, but I can’t stop thinking about connectors. I want to be Samantha J. Maes, the Connector.
I called my parents to wish them a happy anniversary earlier today. My dad wasn’t home, so I talked to my mom for a while. I told her about connectors, and about how fascinated I was by Horchow. I told my mom it wasn’t a skill, but a lifestyle. Meeting people was just something Horchow did on the reg. Then my mom said it, the thing that made me feel so lame, “Your dad seems like a connector, he literally talks to everyone, it’s so embarrassing. Just the other day, when we were leaving the…..” Blah, blah, blah another story about how my parents were together and my dad had to stop and talk to someone somewhere about something. My mom and I are always joking about how my dad doesn’t know the meaning of stranger. He literally talks to everyone. My dad and I used to play a game when we would go places. Basically we would count how many people we knew in the place we were at, and whoever knew the most people won. Sometimes neither of us would know anyone, but most of the time my dad knew at least one person.
By connecting Horchow to my dad, I realized being a connector really is a personality trait. My dad loves meeting new people. He will go up to anyone and ask them about something they’re wearing. He’ll talk to the people waiting in line, any line, anywhere. In high school I applied for a job at the athletic club my family goes to, I ended up getting it. My first day, and almost everyday after that, the people I worked with would talk about my dad. Either he had told them an elaborate, most likely, untrue story, or he had done something weird and funny. I started to wonder, did I get this job, so the people who work here would be able to figure out my dad’s crazy story (the fact that people actually believe my dad, who is 65, was shot out of a canon a few years ago baffles me).
My dad goes to the same bagel place everyday. Everyone knows his name, and they know his order. He goes at all times of the day, but everyone knows him. My dad goes our club almost everyday, and everyone knows him. He talks to the staff, the old ladies, the hot cougars, the body builders, shriveling old men who come to steam. My dad goes to physical therapy for his knee. He talks to all the staff and patients there. Some of the patients are players for the Colorado Rockies. He wanted to talk to one of them one day, and he tripped in a pot hole on the way. The player picked him up and everyday he saw him after that would call my dad “Crash.”
Whenever we’re at the airport my dad sees someone he knows. He’ll know someone in line, or he’ll know the lady working behind the counter.
Not only does my dad know a lot of people, but he stays in touch with those people he doesn’t see regularly. He’s always on the phone with family and friends. He did some contract work in outside of Richmond, Va. and Pittsburgh, Pa. a couple years ago and he still catches up with many of the people he met there. Not just the people he worked with, but the lady who worked at the diner, his neighbors, to name just a few.
My dad is one of the friendliest people I know, and at first I felt lame for being less of a connector than my dad, but then I started feeling pretty good, like maybe since connectivity is a personality trait, I could inherit it?
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