The first seven years of my life were spent on the farm… literally on the farm. It would not surprise me to look out the window and see the cows wandering around in the pasture with just a fence separating them from my home.
That meant that I learned to drive a tractor and I also went out and helped haul the hay on to the wagon. Admittedly, I wasn’t really much help. Still, these days of July heat do bring back memories of doing some work in the hot sun. Plus, in consective summers I somehow first got chicken pox and then the measles. I always felt that it was somehow connected to all that heat and hay.
That’s the negative part. The positive part was at the end of those hot days. My grandfather would say, “let’s head for the barn”. That meant that we were done and that we would go right for the pump, for cold water. I was so thirsty; I could hardly wait. At that moment, gold and silver meant nothing. Water was everything; I was just so hot and thirsty.
That also reminds me of the Bible story of the competitive twins. I almost typed “the story of two twins” but that’s one of those obvious statements.
In Genesis 25, the older brother (Esau), “a skillful hunter, a man of the open country”, had returned from hunting. He was absolutely famished. His younger brother twin, Jacob, was cooking, He is described as “a quiet man among the tents”. Today, the one brother would be the one always playing outside while the other one was inside probably just playing video games and baking cookies.
Esau was so hungry that he agreed to give his birthright to Jacob for some lentil stew. That was giving his special honor that he was entitled to as the older brother; the right to a double portion of his father’s inheritance.
The story almost sounds like a Lifetime movie. It includes deceit and a threat to kill. For the purposes of this blog, it is also a reminder of the power of hunger. The simple things in life that have significant value when we are without.
The basics in life sometimes come up when I am discussing a client’s losses to an adjuster. I sometimes start to believe that the adjuster forgets what loss feels like. It feels like they have no understanding of what a person is facing after getting hit.
It seems that many of them sit in their air conditioned cubicle or office and just punch numbers in a computer, to arrive at a value on the case. “I just don’t think that your client has much of a loss” or “it’s just not documented in the medical records as to why they had to miss work”.
Almost every day, I face those adjuster arguments when I am in the office. Maybe that’s why I sometimes sound harsh when descibing my interaction in negotiations.
I guess the ending to the blog is a description of what it feels like when the jury comes back with a significant verdict that recognizes a client’s losses. Come to think of it, it has some of the same feeling of joy; like I felt as a kid, when my grandfather was telling me that we were finished for the day, and that we were headed for the barn. It’s fun to travel down memory lane.
Here’s an astronaut texting pic o’ day that makes me smile: