Seriously now, the fun side of networking

Have you heard of the old boys/old girls network, referring to a particular league of classmates that you went to school and grew up with, becoming close to you as your own siblings?

From this common background, not time, distance or circumstances can break the link that you forged.  It is closer than the theory of six degrees of separation, where everyone is six steps away, where a chain of “a friend of a friend” statements can bring any two or more people together.

Outsiders brand it as pulling strings while others see it as perks earned from being former seatmates breaking pan de limon together in the cafeteria or exchanging codigo during exams.  In any endeavor, it sums up the influence you yield, making true the view that it is not what you know but whom you know.

 After school, some blazed a trail in the corporate world or in entrepreneurship.  With persistence, impeccable work ethic, and integrity, you distinguish yourself in your field.  Soon, you get appeals to hire people who could be the son or daughter of a former classmate, a fraternity brother or a sorority sister.  Sometimes, you hire a plum.  Other times, you become like a Sicilian godfather keeping the favored employee in the payroll even if he does not and cannot perform the task, a thorn on your side. 

 Networking is the brighter side of this alliance.  It becomes a means to build a strong and permanent bonding as you develop rapport and genuine respect for each colleague.  It also extends to people you meet in the course of your working career.  They become your friends, inseparable, like Wall Street and New York.  They guard your reputation and well-being, going to the extent of covering your back, if needed. 

My husband Arthur traveled on sales blitzkriegs with his counterparts from other sister hotels.  Once, after a vigorous marketing campaign, he went to Disneyland in Anaheim together with three other directors.  These were men of exacting, no-nonsense, and meticulous persuasions.  After the Main Street parade, they decided to head back to the hotel.  Arthur asked Ron Adams from Hawaii, “Where is our car?”  Ron replied, “Don’t know, it was Maury who parked it.”  Three heads turned to Maury Galloway from Holland.  He gasped, “Geez, didn’t any of you memorize the exact spot?”  Disneyland packs 70,000 cars on weekends and if you lose your car, there was only one way to find it.  Picture four men standing in a sea of automobiles waiting until every visitor had left Disneyland.  When Arthur checked the time, it was 12:37 past midnight.  They found their car parked snugly under Maleficent, the wicked witch. 

The flagship of the Sheraton chain in Australia was opening soon and when news spread that a Filipino will be at the helm, Filipinos applied from every state.  Aware of the Pinoy’s unabashed unpredictability, Arthur appointed Leonardo Altamarino, another Filipino, to process the applicants, including interviewing them for the advertised positions.  One kababayan crowed, “I’m a master of all.”  Leonardo politely asked the applicant to sit down.  “That’s great,” Leonardo said.  “What position are you applying for?”  He arched his eyebrows and casually replied, “Eh di siempre general manager.  Pare, I’m not choosy, puede din chairman of the board.”

Another colleague, Dante Bertelli from Milan, collects heirloom carpets and rare books that could rival those found in Museo Balgatti Valsecchi.  He fell in love with our beaches in Argao, Cebu on his honeymoon.  Possessing a cavalier spirit, he loves jazz and is a walking cookbook on Italian cuisine, none of which can equal his devotion to his wife.  On a leisurely tour of Northern Italy, Dante took us to the shrine of St. Anthony in Padova and on to Venice and Verona.  I was admiring Juliet’s balcony when Dante suddenly disappeared.  He returned with a dazzling three-carat emerald ring that he slipped into his wife’s finger.  My jaw dropped.  “Look at that,” I nudged my husband.  Without even any hint or clue, he just bought a gift for her, for heeer!”  My husband quizzically frowned, “Huh?  What’s that again?”

Another time, the president of ITT International and Sheraton Hotels, Daniel P. Weadock, gathered all his top executives, area managers, and general managers in New York for a sales and marketing pow-wow.  Knowing that they had two hours to kill, Arthur walked to Saks Fifth to pick a suit for a tall and debonair colleague whose wardrobe was limited to equestrian jackets and boots.  “Try this,” my husband said.  John Henderson declared, “Perfect fit!  You Filipinos have excellent taste.”  John’s face, however, turned ashen when he reached the cashier. “Three thousand dollars, Sir.”  “Holy smoke, is this spun from gold?”  Laughing heartily, Arthur pushed John out of the store so that they could be at the auditorium for Mr. Weadock’s speech.

 â€œNetworking,” Weadock began, “is Arthur Lopez and the time he devotes to take care, foster, and cultivate fellowships among partners, developers, and colleagues.  “It takes years,” said Weadock.  “You cannot rush it.  It is like brewing premium coffee to cultivate a perfect blend.  You garner not only associates of sterling grit and honor but also gain a trove of genuine friends.”  That was when Peter, Ron, Maury, and six more hotel comrades jumped at Arthur hugging and shaking his hands.  “Arturo, mi hermano,” exclaimed Dante.  “He just made me the best-dressed nouveau poor,” John quipped. 

Mr. Weadock wasn’t talking of old boys network anymore.  It was the time that one spent — which was never a waste — on teammates that go beyond the boardroom, the Disney car park, and Saks Fifth.

Oh, even beyond Juliet’s balcony.