The Horn Section

Joe is updating his resume, looking for a big time graphic design job on the West Coast that is commensurate with his experience in the Big Apple. He commented the other day that he was adding the names of specific clients to his resume, on the advice of a friend. "Of course you should," I said. He's worked for some pretty big names in the cosmetics and distilled spirits industries, and that's exactly the sort of specific detail that catches the attention of a prospective employer. "But I'm not so good at the horn-tooting thing," he said.

That made me laugh. When I worked for Jack and Dad at Ruszel Woodworks, I enrolled the firm in a relevant trade association (whose acronym is pronounced "Popeye," even though they have nothing to do with spinach or Oyl). After a few years of attending their meetings and trade shows, I was elected to the board of directors, an accomplishment which represented a major career milestone in my mind. At the next company meeting, though, no mention of my new role was announced to the assembled employees, even though I was eagerly awaiting the chance to shine. I pouted a bit about the obvious oversight, then finally complained to Dad later in the afternoon that I hadn't received the recognition I'd expected. He immediately brushed off my whining. "Hey," he said, "Sometimes you just gotta toot your own horn."

So true. We got sort of a mixed message growing up, with a mom who is self-effacing and a dad who loved to brag. Each characteristic has its appropriate time and place. When there's a horn that needs playing, step up and wail, baby. Dad is snapping his fingers to the beat.