the Wakefield Doctrine

Welcome to the Wakefield Doctrine (the theory of clarks, scotts and rogers)

Was going to write a ‘on-the-road’ Post and publish it yesterday, but time got away from me in a most peculiar way. I spent Thursday in aeroplanes and airport terminals, which somehow did not permit any writing. The next thing you know it’s Friday! And our Friend(s): Dawn and Kate and Janine and Stephanie have their ‘Finish The Sentence Friday’, which I totally support (for various reasons).

Fortunately, I did a Video Post  on Wednesday, And as luck would have it, the Sentenced to be Finished is:

‘I did something really stupid once…’

This being the Wakefield Doctrine, and not that I think driving a car at excessive speeds on a rural road while trying to eloquently present an insight onto human behavior is in any way…stupid. I will not, however, resist the urge to express today’s partially complete sentence* as it would be heard by a clark or a scott or roger:

• what? I know what I’m doing, I’ve driven this road a thousand times and besides, I need to add an element of excitement and besides, what the hell is the point of being careful at this stage of the game?
• Come on!  lean out the window!! Wait! let me get the radio blasting…they say this car can corner at 120 and not even leave the road!!
• perhaps now you will pay more attention, no I don’t feel that advice on my driving is really the appropriate thing at this point, the main thing is we are together and you can give me your undivided attention… nothing to worry about, you worry too much

Everyone make a note: tomorrow’s Wakefield Doctrine Saturday Night Drive will be a live on location in Arizona somewhere!  As long as I remember to factor in the time zones (I’m pretty sure I have to open the call at 5:00 local time… or maybe 6 )
The Number to call:  1-218-339-0422   access code:  512103#

(and at the bottom, from one of the top three funniest movies of all time)

* as a scott might express it: a sentence fragment left incomplete, needing only the right words, a perfect clause, a touch of nuance to tip the scales and have it (the sentence, of course) explode into completeness.

Welcome to the Wakefield Doctrine (the theory of clarks, scotts and rogers)

“…when last we saw our friends.”

No, wait a minute! There is no way we are going to be able to bring you up-to-date on our story using this ‘prologue device’. Too much has happened since we started with our little Wakefield Doctrine allegory, not only too many events, but the people, the characters, have become more and more: clarklike (or) scottian (or even) rogerian. It simply would not be fair to do a simple re-cap of the… ‘events’. The heck with that! If you want to know what has already happened at the Party, go read the Last Installment (or, if you have some time on your hands) the Complete Story.

In the meantime, we thought adding another dimension (to our little literary exercise ) might be fun. You know how professional sports are presented, not simply as an athletic event, but as a dramatic story? Color Commentators and Play-by-Play and ex-football Players and/or Coaches who tell us the inside story of the players and such?  Well, I thought that taking this approach might be fun with the next Installment of the Party at the Calypso Club. After all, this is not just a story of people going to a Birthday Party. It is a story of clarks and scotts and rogers and how their individual and respective worldviews shape their lives, hinder their ambitions and hold out the hope of succeeding in achieving a happy and fulfilling life. You know, like football. So  not only will we be looking in on Violet and Alex and Sam and Mel and them, but we will be treated to inside information, personal insights and cool stuff like that.

So lets join our friends at the Birthday Party at the Calypso Club, already in progress…

“…cut in?”

Leaning close to Violet in order to be heard over the disco-funk music that overwhelmed the room, Alex said, “Come to my office Monday. We’ll have lunch and see if we can’t find a place for you in M&A. I have plenty of intelligent people working for me, what I really need is someone with intelligence and the willingness to do whatever it takes to get the job done”  Violet felt a familiar feeling of elation combined with a sense of fear and foreboding attached, as she faced her new boss, she said, “I won’t disappoint you! I think…”
[as a clark, Violet knows she has potential and capability far in excess of what most people realize, yet, when an extraordinary effort, in this case going to Alex directly and all, yields the results, there is a sense of now being out of control, of being in a situation where the assumed potential no longer applies…hence the fear] Mel saw the two women talking and decided that Alex DelGiudice was being drawn into a workday conversation and since this was clearly after hours, he knew that she would prefer to dance, so he repeated his offer to dance. As it happens the song ended just as he began to speak, resulting in a very loud, “You mind if I cut in?” He was looking at the older women when he said this, registering the fact that the other woman was the girl from the Research Department that he had to shake earlier in the evening, he tried to remember her name, Vivian or Velma or something.

Violet saw the look of annoyance cross Ms. DelGiudice’s face when the, much louder request to dance, interrupted the conversation that she was obviously enjoying. Deciding that since this seemed to be her night of risks and impulse, she caught the other woman’s eye for the briefest moment with an equally brief smile, and as she turned to face the approaching Mel, she slipped her left arm around Alex DelGiudice’s waist and laughing looked him directly in the eye and said, “Why no, thank you. I believe we are all set here.”
From the corner of her eye, Violet was relieved to see that Ms. DelGiudice seemed to be enjoying this little interaction, going so far as to putting her arm around her waist, in turn. Seeing the look on the face of the guy who she now recognized as the Assistant Director of Human services, Violet felt barely able to keep from laughing.  With a feeling of un-reality, she smiled at him. She thought of how much he looked like her ex-boyfriend from college, Stephen.
Stephen was an engineering major and a perfectionist and she really thought that he was the one. They even lived together during their last year in Grad School, ‘…was that only last year?‘ Violet thought, ‘I can’t believe how so much has changed in so little time. I guess I owe that little tramp a debt of gratitude, though I probably shouldn’t dwell on the past. Whats important is that despite how reasonable Stephen made it sound, I was right to…’
[ There is a tendency in clarks to assume that the other person is probably right, especially in situations that involve social interactions. From being criticized in the work place, to being told by the other person in a relationship that what is best for the relationship is for it to end, clarks will default to: ‘what did I do that was wrong’. The single benefit for clarks contained in the Wakefield Doctrine that makes it all worthwhile, is to interrupt this automatic assumption of being wrong.] Suddenly the lights dimmed and the band fell silent.
Alex sighed with relief when the lights dimmed, the effect seemingly extended to the audio element of the party, as the attractive but pushy guy standing in front of her seemed to lose his voice along with the lighting in the room.
‘This girl is full of surprises‘, Alex reflected in the momentary calm, ‘she must really want to get this position, I’ll give her that, we’ll find out Monday if she has what it takes to get ahead in this company.’
Alex’s early years with the corporation flashed across her mind, she always enjoyed the overall memory of her achievements but never dwelled in the particulars, ‘don’t think this girl has the killer instinct that I had, but there’s something there, something that reminds me a bit of myself. Not a lot, not enough to become a dragon lady like me, but who knows… everyone needs a protegé‘.
[scotts are the embodiment of the often poorly understood personal quality called ‘a killer instinct’, it is, in fact, the difference between natural talent and studied effort. a scott may be limited in their imagination, but they will almost always take advantage of a situation in ways that simply are not available to the person who pauses to reflect. Male or female, scotts act in the here and now, decisively.] Dismissing this line of thought as being too work related, Alex noted that her Host, Jimmie was walking up to the stage, a twisted rectangle of light on the back of the curtain on the wall hinted on some new activity. Turning her full attention to the stage, Alex thought, ‘now lets see what we can do with the rest of this evening…”
[the behavioral metaphor for the scottian personality type is: predator. the inference is that of a person for whom the world is an active and (potentially) dangerous place of predator and prey, where it is kill or be killed, take or be taken, eat or be eaten… in other words, fun!]

(“…got the door? Estepe? Si, si! When they  start la musika, push the doors aside esai,  and I push this  ‘gringo loco partido a favor’ out on the stage and we all can go take a break. no, I do not understand, either    Hey! One!…Two…”)

Meg heard the strains of ‘Happy Birthday’ through the icing covered walls of the hollow birthday cake. Feeling the cart begin to move and trying to find a stable position crouched in the very small space, Meg’s thoughts echoed the waiter’s, ‘Alright, the emcee says, ‘on three make a wish, they do a countdown and 5 seconds after ‘1’ jump up and smile Happy Birthday! Stand on top of the cake looking hot, wait for the same old jokes about un-wrapping the present, and how you got your wish and all of those, get out of the cake…give the Birthday boy a kiss and let him look like the winner in front of his friends, get off stage and go home. easy peasy’
Never liking the feeling of being confined or trapped, just before they closed the top of the cake, Meg borrowed a paring knife from one of the cooks and made a small hole in the side of the cake to let in a token amount of light. This little hole also gave her a view to the outside, which as luck would have it, allowed her to see the Emcee as he started his part of the celebration. As the Emcee begin to introduce the Guest of Honor, Meg thought, ‘Friend or no friend, this is the last time I do a job like this. Getting too old to climb into cakes and jump up and surprise people who really should be at home with their families’.
Hearing the countdown begin,
“3…”,
Meg found herself wishing she had stayed in Law School, ‘hell, something like that could have happened to any girl, I was 19 fricken years old’
“…2!” ‘
...and besides he was my damn Faculty Advisor!’
Hearing the countdown end, Meg carefully got into her position, but her one last look out through her little peephole made her freeze in a half-crouching position. She could see the Guest of Honor standing next to the Emcee, both right in front of her and her cake, ‘don’t start laughing! Meg thought as she  tried to stifle the laughter she felt welling up,  ‘guys don’t think girls who are laughing are sexy‘  but as she looked out, a door on the wall behind the emcee swung open and the CEO of the Corporation stepped into the room.
‘Shit’, Meg managed, ‘thats the big wig that I was supposed to Escort tonight! …the Service said he was as bad-tempered as he was rich and powerful’.

‘Shit!’ Meg repeated, ‘this party is so about to get interesting…’

“…1!!”

Jimmy drew in his breath, turned to the room full of people, decided to play it out a bit. He pointed at something in front of the stage, made a half obscene gesture then turned back and, with a lot of noise, blew at the candles. He continued to put on a show, staggering a bit, leaning on the Emcee, mostly to play for time until the girl jumped out of the cake.
Just a second before the girl jumps out of his cake ( he sees the top start to come off), Jimmy (and nearly everyone else in the room) is riveted by the sound of slow, steady and very loud clapping.

Victor walks through the door clapping and is rewarded by the sight of nearly everyone in the room turning towards him, like puppies after a long day playing. But not everyone turned… an attractive young girl with her arm around a slightly older, but decidedly sexy woman, ‘why it’s Alex, my very able head of the M&A Department‘ Victor thought as he continued to walk into the room and towards the stage.

‘…this may have been worth my while!’