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Fall 2008 Fall 2017 Summer 2003
Every member of the working world seems to have a horror story about an interview gone wrong, where the interviewer performed in a less-than-sterling manner. Maybe it was a clueless interviewer who didn’t bother to read your résumé or an overbearing windbag who didn’t let you get a word in edgewise. Then there’s the oblivious interviewer who doesn’t remember your name or the baggy-eyed boss who can’t stifle a yawn while asking about you. In more serious cases, perhaps the interviewer strays off into either unethical or illegal territory.
In 1988 I was with my brothers and sisters when the conversation drifted to our father, who had passed away many years earlier. We shared our memories of Dad: his ways of doing things, his favorite sayings, our fishing trips where all he did was bait hooks, and so forth.
You probably recognize the symptoms. Palms sweaty, throat scratchy. A band of pressure stretches across your forehead from temple to temple. Knots in your stomach and your pulse racing. Breathing comes in short, shallow bursts. Coming down with the flu? No. You’re about to make a group presentation.