Scott Comes to Town

He stood at the front of the room. Before him: rows of chairs full of employees waiting to hear him speak. Behind him: a wall of glass looking out on trees and bushes and the railroad tracks.

He spoke of the boom times, of years with 30% growth. He spoke of the bubble burst. He spoke of turning around, of the things he had done wrong. And he spoke of the many things he thought were going right.

He rallied his troops. He talked a good pep talk. He took pot shots at the competition. He illuminated strategy. And he showed off pictures of his kids and dog at home.

Then as he was discussing some detail of some grand plan, a train approached on the tracks outside. The ground rumbled. He stopped and turned sharply to look out the window. He didn't say a word until the yellow locomotives came into view.

I'm from California, he said, turning back to the crowd. Where I come from, when the floor shakes like that you expect more, and you head for shelter.

He was their CEO. The crowd laughed. It was funny. The crowd laughed hard.

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