Waiting at the Whitley

Reflecting on where we've been, and where our kids are going.

Atlanta, GA

March 7, 2023

In the course of my career, I’ve spent countless hours in hotel lobbies. 

Now, I’m passing a few more. Sipping coffee in a corner chair, I’m comfortably ensconced at the Hotel Whitley, in a building that once housed the Buckhead Ritz-Carlton. 

Rita and I were here a few years ago, for a local vacation from our daily lives. This morning, I’m on my own. Looking around the lobby, I’m reminded of time I’ve spent in similar spots.

A couple decades ago, monthly meetings with Air France made the Sheraton Charles de Gaulle a regular place to drop my bags and lay my head. But I spent little time there. 

Arriving exhausted from an overnight flight, my regular routine was to unload my luggage, and hop the first train to the City of Light. Likewise, whenever I’d travel to Prague, Rome, Munich, or Nice, I had so much else to see, so spent no time sipping drinks at the hotel bar.

A few years later, another job regularly sent me to St. Louis. I was there almost weekly…initially at a nearby Courtyard, later at the stately Chase, and finally at the luxurious Ritz. 

Being in St. Louis as often as I was, I had plenty of time to see the city. I’d found good restaurants, friendly bars, and a beautiful church to hear a Tridentine Mass and confess my sins. 

But having explored the city, I decided the Ritz Carlton had plenty of appeal. Beside a roaring fire in the corner of the lobby, I’d grab my usual chair, await a glass of wine, and begin to work, watch…and write.

The general manager, bartenders, waitresses, and concierge all knew me, and went out of their way to ensure my comfort. It was home away from home. But eventually, I had to move. 

Six months after departing the Ritz, I relocated to a Marriott. This one was in Dublin, Ohio. As happened with disturbing regularity, the bartender quickly knew my standard order, and had it waiting each evening when I came thru the door. 

I did so for only a few months, till the reckless reaction to covid crippled the world and kept me home. My business travel was done. The next two years, I worked remote. 

Then, last January, I left the supposed “security” of the corporate trail. Off the beaten path, the weeds were heavy and the woods thick. Yet I opted to wander the wilderness to see what I could find. 

But where to go, and how to get there? I could do what I’d always done, but that held no appeal. After I’d left my last place of employment, I realized how much I despised my career. The thought of resuming made me physically ill. 

Why was that? 

I wasn’t exactly sure. I knew I’d done similar things for two decades, had never really liked it, and was ready to change. But to what?

Years ago, even before I was working in Paris, I checked my compass to find direction. I enrolled in an “ability assessment” – a battery of tests to help identify my innate strengths, capabilities, and talents. 

These traits aren’t synonymous with “skills”. We’re born with them. They’re not acquired with time and training. They’re attributes we possess naturally and that we often feel an instinctive need to nurture.  They’re more like height than weight. They’re intrinsic. No matter what we do, they remain relatively stable with passage of time. 

My results were interesting, and instructive. Consistent with a “Managerial and Executive Pattern”, my work style and is much more that of a “generalist” than a “specialist”, with an ideal interpersonal environment conducive to introverts rather than extroverts. 

I apparently have very strong concept organization capability that allows me to logically arrange ideas, create plans, organize information, and communicate with others. I am decent producing ideas, visualizing relationships, and reasoning inductively. And I tend to bore easily.

My design, verbal, vision, and rhythm memory are well above average. Number memory is extraordinarily high, as are manual speed and accuracy. This perhaps explains why chose civil engineering as my first profession. But it also implies I’d enjoy working with my hands, which I rarely do but probably should.

Then again, according to these tests, my natural time horizon is “intermediate.” Without planning, impatience can get the best of me. And as my wife will attest, I’m often too impatient (or, as she might put it, “lazy”) to prepare a plan.

There was much more detail and elaboration as part of the read-out, delivered with charts, descriptions, and implications of results. It was fascinating information and great to know. But there was a catch.

I needed to act on it. Instead, I received my review, agreed with much of it, and put it aside as if it had never been given.

Mark Twain reputedly said he who knows how to read but doesn’t is no better off than he who can’t read at all. That’s true. But, actually, he’s worse off. Those who are unintentionally ignorant needn’t live with the painful notion that they’d willfully ignored valuable knowledge. 

When I took these tests, I’d recently received my graduate degree. Work was fine. I was making decent (not great) money, tho’ not as much as most of my peers (I was, after all, working for an airline). But it was easier to ride inertia than to risk change. So I stayed in my lane, obeyed the speed limit, and followed the rules. Till I ran out of gas.

My own sons are in or approaching their early twenties. They have little money, but many options. This is their time to meet people, take chances, gain experience, and learn some lessons. 

For Christmas, I bought each of them a copy of The Defining Decade, an insightful book explaining the importance of our twenties, and why it’s vital not to waste those crucial years. 

My sons agreed. But they need to know how best to spend this time that will soon be gone. What are they good at? Which activities are they drawn to? What do they enjoy? Do they even know? Probably not. Why would they?

I decided they should take ability tests similar to the ones I completed almost half a century ago. On a recommendation from Adam Taggart of Wealthion, I enrolled them at the organization that’s done these tests longer than anyone. 

The Johnson O’Connor Research Foundation has offices around the country, including one in Atlanta. For six hours, they engage clients in a variety of activities and exercises to evaluate natural inclinations and inherent ability. 

Our younger son completed his couple weeks ago. His older brother is there now, which is why I’m waiting here. In a few minutes, he’ll take a break. We’ll meet for lunch before he finishes this afternoon. 

Within a few days a representative will schedule separate sessions to review results, including implications for the type activities and careers each son should pursue or avoid. 

I don’t know if this will help. But I can’t imagine it could hurt. Our elder son is a year from completing college. Our younger one starts this Fall. Who knows what either will decide to do, or how often that will change? 

But if it aligns with their interests, they’ll be inclined to do it well, and more likely to be successful. And one day they may reflect on how they did it, over wine at the Ritz, or coffee at the Whitley.

JD