Out of the Closet

Fired Up! : How the Best of the Best Survived and Thrived After Getting the Boot
by Harvey Mackay

No fight left? No future? Does the handwriting on the wall say utter failure?

Harvey Mackay, one of the world's best-selling motivational and business authors tells you why it isn't so. He reveals anecdotes and secrets from some of the best and brightest headliners in our world today. Their gripping accounts show that no one is immune to bad judgment or backstabbing. In colorful detail, these remarkable success stories reveal what the best of the best did to get back on top.

Each story tells a unique tale and contains valuable lessons that are applicable to any reader who wants his or her career to flourish; indeed, this is the book that will inspire, instill hope ... and give more than a glimpse into what makes these stalwarts strong.

When Fortune magazine called Mackay "Mister Make-Things-Happen," it was right on the money — getting this amazing group of people from various walks of life to talk openly about their abilities to bounce back shows him to be a master at getting people to divulge some of their defeats and their dreams.

Hopeful, tough-minded, and filled with indispensable advice, We Got Fired! ... And It's the Best Thing That Ever Happened to Us will show anyone how to turn a modern bummer into a major blessing. It's a rarity: a sure thing in our shaky times.

"How do you define a secret? When one person knows it."

Right now, I know something you don't. I got fired, and it was the best thing that ever happened to me! I — Harvey Mackay, who has been sharkproofing the world against job loss with over 10 million books sold since 1988 — was fired. I'm now out of the closet. It wasn't that I tried to hide a black spot on my career. It was that I didn't think the whole deal was all that important. Last year I thought about it further. And then I realized it was important. Not maybe the firing itself, but the lessons I learned as a result of it. It literally changed my life. But it was embarrassing. So I had dodged giving it any significance for more than half a century.

Here's the straight story. My father, Jack Mackay, was the Associated Press correspondent in St. Paul, Minnesota. He virtually had only one job his entire life . . . and yes, he stayed around for thirty-five years to collect his gold watch. He was the best of the best. He took a backseat to no one, especially when it came to delivering scoops . . . the lifeline of a reporter.

Growing up as a kid, I came from modest beginnings, and my father was insistent there was no substitute for working odd jobs during summer vacations and Christmas holidays. I had a myriad of short stints from setting pins at a bowling alley to delivering newspapers to working at a driving range.

It was summer vacation my junior year in high school and I had just landed a neat job at a downtown St. Paul men's clothing store . . . and, of course, my father with his connections got me the job.

Now, peddling pants, socks, underwear, ties, hankies, and occasionally a shirt or two may not sound like the most glamorous position in the world . . . but in retrospect, it was a great gig. At a young age, I had an opportunity to learn about business . . . having a boss to report to . . . showing up for work on time . . . handling money and credit . . . understanding how customers shop . . . and, learning a little about the retail clothing industry. Overnight, I was plying the tricks of the retail trade. My boss, Chris, hammered these principles into my brain bank:

1. Before you could count to "one-Mississippi," you greeted a customer at the front door with a "million-dollar, megawatt smile" and said "Howdy . . . may I help you!" The "howdy" was a hammy slice of creativity in those days because the store I worked at was Howard's and their theme was "Howdy from Howard's." No way would that advertising theme win first place in the 2004 Cleo Awards!

2. Never put more than three ties on the counter . . . it will only confuse the customer.

3. Always, and I mean always, play to the spouse (female). She will make the buying decision 99 percent of the time.

4. Once you get the customer to try on the pants, consider it a done deal.

5. Never ring up a sale without asking: "What else do you have in mind?" and "Would you like me to introduce you to our best suit salesman?"

6. Walk the customer to the front door and sometimes even out onto Wabasha Street and look 'em in the eye . . . say "Thanks!" . . . and then say: "Be sure and bring it back if you are not happy with it."

7. Never, never, never start to lock up if a customer misses closing time by a few minutes.

8. And, don't come to work in competitor's clothes, even if you are just a young kid peddling men's accessories.

The above eight points are the short list because my memory is what I forget with, and — be kind — it was many decades ago. Looking back, probably the greatest plus of the job was, whether I realized it or not, I was polishing my sales skills at a very early age.

When you are young, footloose, and fancy-free, you don't have a care in the world. You are always in the "comfort zone." You don't quite realize the responsibility of holding down a legitimate job. Better said, you don't realize the importance of holding down a job legitimately.

Because my dad paved the way for me, I never really appreciated that there were many kids clamoring for a sweetheart summer job like I had. This sugarcoated plum fell right into my lap.

Here is where it gets a little embarrassing. I didn't get this job due to my instant mastery of the eight commandments of selling. I got it because of my dad. He was not only a cus- tomer of the store, but was very good friends with the owner and many of the salespeople. The buzz on me was to treat Harvey like "Little Lord Fauntleroy."

They never disciplined me if I took extra minutes on my lunch hour, never chastised me for being a few minutes late, nor for leaving a few minutes early on occasion.

You know the old story, give him an inch and he'll take a mile! . . . well, that was Harvey in spades.

In retrospect, I am positive all these little pinpricks added up and there was probably a whispering campaign going on behind my back. The Lord became a Louse. Lords generally do in our democratic land. No doubt the buzz became a buzz saw about this unappreciative, spoiled brat whose daddy knew the owner. And that saw was relentlessly whirring toward the back of my neck.

The deal breaker came when I started to ask for days off. Why? I dreamed of becoming another Ben Hogan and had had lots of success on the golf links playing for good ole St. Paul Central High School. I also set my goal that summer to become the Minnesota State High School Golf Champion the following year. As it happened, I three-putted the 72nd hole to miss by one stroke. The sad news is that my pro-sports dream was a delusion. Although I went on to play golf for the University of Minnesota, I would never become a professional golfer. Reason? Simple. If you grow up in Minnesota, the number of golf-playing days you have in any given year is radically less than what your counterparts in Arizona or Florida have. It didn't take my golf coach to point this out to me. It was my mother.

But back to Howard's Men's Store. First it was leaving an hour early . . . then several hours early . . . then half days early . . . and then the whole enchilada . . . asking for a whole day off to play in this "big" golf tournament.

Copyright © 2004 by Harvey Mackay. Excerpted by permission of Ballantine Books, a division of Random House, Inc. All rights reserved. No part of this excerpt may be reproduced or reprinted without permission in writing from the publisher.

About the Author

Harvey Mackay is author of four New York Times bestsellers. His first two books Swim with the Sharks Without Being Eaten Alive and Beware the Naked Man Who Offers You His Shirt were #1 New York Times bestsellers and are listed by the New York Times among the top fifteen inspirational business books of all time.