The guy who installed all the phone lines and Ethernet cable at my office and house got hit by a gravel truck this week and is in a coma. I saw him working out at the club where I play racquetball on Wednesday morning, just a few hours before the accident. Once I heard about it, I started passing on the word to others who I thought knew him. People expressed surprise or mild shock but I found myself noticing how much life just goes on. At the coffeehouse, people went right on eating and drinking. At the club, guys went right on playing racquetball. And it occurred to me that if I had been in the accident, the same would be true. Other than my family, and a few close friends, everybody’s else day would be just the same, even if I died. And this was oddly comforting.
Having grown up with a savior/superiority complex bestowed on me as “the good and holy” one in my family, it’s taken quite a while to make my peace with being an ordinary Joe. This reflection on the accident reminded me of a guy in my Inner Circle group who 6 months ago told me his childhood history behind the word “JoeSchmoePhobia” and how it still has the power to fuel his career strivings in detrimental ways.
The first anniversary of when a friend’s wife suggested the name “Real Joe” is coming up in a couple of weeks. And it now occurs to me as I write this, that prior to that, among my choices for naming the company were Ordinary Joe, Average Joe, and Just Plain Joe… all related to my trying to come to grips with my own JoeSchmoePhobia. I’ve had a few guys react negatively to the name of the section of the site where I post my work/career-related essays, Joe Lunchbox. Maybe it tickles their JoeSchmoePhobia reflex. Hopefully, it won’t scare them off.