On this very busy week of travel for me, something that stopped me. Cold.at the begining of the week, in Boston.
A meeting -- actually two meetings.
In a span of little more than two hours.
One, a former boxer, who in his day, electrified the sports world.
The other, a former CEO, who in "his" day, electrified the financial world.
Yet on this day, I am left asking, "what in the world?"
There was a day these guys would need security. They'd need people. Indeed, they had people. Hangers-on. Sycophants. Suck-ups.
Until they weren't up.
And the suck-ups weren't there.
And neither were the reporters.
Cameras. Or attention.
On this day, two little old men. Recognized by me, and sadly, "only" by me, as far as I could tell.
One just arriving here in Boston...the other, just leaving.
And both...well, just sad.
Missing the time they dominated the world...now mere bystanders to that world.
"There's nothing worse, Neil," this boxer tells me, "than not having the juice. I ain't got no juice."
The former CEO strikes a remarkably similar chord: "I know this sounds strange, Neil," he says, "but nothing bugs me like not being bugged."
No one pesters him now, or chases him now, or demands comments from him now.
Not a soul.
The boxer punched out.
The CEO checked out.
Leaving me to try and figure out...how it is you can rule the world one moment, then be forgotten the next.
Lost in the buzz of conventions. And other marquis names. Hotter. Hipper. Newer.
You know, fame is fickle, I tell myself.
Remembering these two gentlemen, I only hoped and prayed, their families were not.
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