Potential

Our almost friend John was a con artist extraordinaire. He looked down on mere hucksters. The pitchman might be fine for selling low-order goods or pitching at a carnival. However, for genuine success with the consumer, one needed to know how to moderate the pitch, induce subtle doubt about the competition, and gradually lead the prospect from blissful acceptance of what Jack had to offer to grateful acceptance of what John presented.

This was not an everyday presentation where you merely defamed the competition. No. You couldn’t do the used car salesman routine of merely pointing out the deficiencies of Ford versus Volvo. You had to convince them that while the Ford was acceptable, your Volvo excelled. Soon, the fish who’d always bought American was driving off, proudly in a foreign vehicle. Tact. You needed tact. The consumer knows best!

One evening, for fun, John hosted a workshop for us. He introduced us to the basics, and then allowed us to try some fun techniques. The Teahead of the August Moon, our Landlord at the Folkie Palace, won hands down. His ability to cast his voice into deeper registers, the way his piercing gaze captured your attention, and his use of body language were all very promising.

I was told that I smiled too much, but was a better than average bull shitter. John advised me not to try to take on more than I could handle. Others did similarly. Our defrocked ex-monastic, the Monk, also did well for his fervent and fixating delivery.

Years later, The Teahead, always reliably left-wing, was a right-wing shock jock on AM radio in Rhode Island; the Monk had transformed into a televangelist, and I was a woodcarver.

On occasion, however, my wife tells me that I am both fervent and use body language well. If she’s happy, so am I.