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It was a dark and stormy night.
The wind howled through the boughs of the trees, and a deep fog had set in. This was the kind of summer’s eve that was very rare in Orange County, California. Coincidentally, it was also the kind that was quite comforting to me personally as a recent immigrant from Louisiana, where storms of this nature were common on a daily basis.
While the neighbors’ children cowered in their beds at the unusual noises of thunder, rain, and wind, I slept peacefully… until midnight, when the phone rang.
Groggily arising from my blissful oblivion, I was able to read my Caller ID box by the light from several long flashes of lightning. It was an old friend of mine named Ryan, a native of this area, who like me was a leadership and management trainer.
“Hello?” I said, answering the phone with the only greeting I could think of at that hour.
“DUDE!!!” said Ryan into my ear.
Ah, Californians.
“Ryan? Weren’t you supposed to be training at that convention in Florida today?” I asked him.
“Yeah, man, I trained all day, and we’re doing it again all day tomorrow. It’s going to be great!” he responded in a perky way that for some reason annoyed me.
“So you’re in Florida now? What time is it there?”
“About 3 AM. Why?”
“Ah. No reason. What can I do for you, Ryan?”
“I have for you,” he started, “an idea for a leadership workshop that would be perfect for your style!”
“Leadership workshops… right, right….” I said, wondering how quickly I could get him off the phone.
“Scooby-Doo, man!” shouted Ryan.
“Scooby-Doo?”
“Scooby-Doo!”
“What about Scooby-Doo?” I asked.
“That’s the idea! That’s your new seminar!”
“Scooby-Doo is not a seminar. Scooby-Doo is a dog that solves mysteries,” I reminded him.
“Yeah, but he’d make a great seminar! Just imagine it: ‘The Leadership Secrets of Scooby-Doo!’ Got a nice ring to it, doesn’t it?”
“He’s a dog.”
“Yeah, but get beyond that for a second. It’s the mystery of leadership. They solved the case by working as a team!”
“Ummm… maybe we can discuss this further in the morning?”
“It is the morning,” Ryan kindly informed me, “and you really should give this some thought.”
“I will, Ryan. Let me go. ‘Night.” I said as I lowered the phone.
“Good MORNING!” yelled Ryan as I cut the conversation.
As I went back to bed pondering how someone could be a night person and a morning person, all at the same time, I was surprised by the sound of a knock at my door.
Thinking that it was just my imagination because nobody could possibly be knocking at my door at midnight in this horrid weather, I tried to go back to sleep.
And then the knock came again.
I threw on my robe, hurried to the door, and opened it, not realizing nor caring about what a terrible sight I must have been in my spotty old robe, spiky unkempt hair, and my weary grimace. I threw open the door to find four teenagers standing in the rain. The one in front, a young blond man with odd taste in accessories, was eyeing me almost as much as he was ogling the very wet and very gorgeous redhead next to him. A shorter girl behind them had glasses thicker than my phone book, and she seemed to be studying me intently. Off to the side, an unkempt young man was shivering in the rain and staring at me as the biggest Great Dane I’d ever seen clutched at him fearfully.
“It takes all kinds in California,” I thought to myself.
“Say, mister,” said the young blond man, “we’re trying to find the road to the big party at old Spooky Castle, and we’re kind of lost. Do you think you could help us find the way?”
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