Tears of a Clown A poke in the eye, a punch in the snoot
A long time ago, I worked with a guy who I didn't know very well. He was a young guy and kept 10 pounds of potatoes in the bottom drawer of his desk. Every day at lunchtime, he'd take a potato into the break room and cook it in the microwave. That was pretty clever thinking, but the bag of potatoes caused a ruckus nonetheless. People were very suspicious of this guy. One day, I was running past his cubicle - I'm always on the run - and he stopped me. He said to me, "Do you know who John Cleese is?" "Like, yeah!" I said. "I'm a huge John Cleese fan. Especially Faulty Towers." He said, "Really? Because you remind me of John Cleese at lot." Wow, I thought. That's one of the nicest things that anybody's ever said to me. A little while later, I happened to see a big interview with John Cleese on television. I'm only paraphrasing what he had to say, but basically the interviewer asked him how it was he seemed to have gotten a lot mellower with age. Cleese said something like, it took a lot of therapy. The interviewer asked Cleese if it wasn't a lot more fun before, when he was so wild and zany. Cleese said something like – Well, it might have been fun for you, but it was pretty exhausting for me. I'm a lot happier now. Whether you're having as much fun these days, really isn't my problem. ****************** So, now it's Thursday night, October 28th. The Glitteratti of EDA are gathered in the Great Ballroom of a Grand Old Hotel in downtown San Jose. Where there's Glitterati, there's Paparazzi, so I was there too. We were all there to honor this year's recipient of the Phil Kaufmann Award. The Paparazzi are often ushered up to the front of the room and seated at the "special" tables. We're put there, so we can see things up close and then write about them the next day. As I'm pretty much the John Cleese of the EDA Paparazzi world, my being up at one of the "special" tables in front was a hoot and holler. (As most people know, "hoot and holler" is not a phrase that regularly rolls off the typewriters of the more dignified, long-term paparazzi in this industry, so go ahead – fire me. It wouldn't be the first time.) Everybody who's anybody in EDA was at the EDAC event, except for the CEOs of Cadence and Magma. Maybe they forgot. That might have been a good thing for me because, if they had been there, one of them probably would have wanted my chair. Anyway, because I was sitting up front, I got to see the show unfold in life-sized detail. Of course, Joe Costello is bigger than life. Quite literally. I'm married to a fairly tall man. He's 6 foot 4, and my son is 6 foot 4, too. I know these guys pretty well and they suffer in large crowds, particularly at cocktail parties. They're just tall enough that they can't exactly hear the conversation that's going on below them. They're constantly leaning down to try to hear people. They're good men, both of them, and want to try to be polite and follow the thread of the discussion, but often they just can't hear and so they give up. They retreat to a corner – just the two of them – and talk to each other, eye-to-eye. They enjoy each other's company, so that's always a good fallback position at cocktail parties and wedding receptions. Joe Costello is 6 foot 7. Many people believe that tall men have an advantage in life. Many people will insist that this is true – particularly the tall men themselves – but I'm telling you, as the wife and mother of two very tall men, Joe Costello is at a distinct disadvantage at cocktail parties, at weddings, or at receptions and dinner parties being given in his honor. Not only does he have to lean way, way down to hear what people are saying – to track the thread of the discussion – but there isn't anybody else around who he can ever retreat to a corner with, someone he can talk to eye-to-eye. There's no blending into – or out of – a crowd, when you're Joe Costello. So, given that's the case, last night he took the situation to its logical extreme. He got up to receive his Phil Kaufmann award and started to cry. Not just once, but 3 times over the course of his acceptance speech. Joe Costello can't blend into a crowd, and now he's been seen weeping in public. Joe Costello is just not like other men and he has to live with that. You gotta like this guy. Even if you don't like this guy, you gotta like this guy. Certainly everybody at the Kaufmann Award dinner seemed to like him. They gave him a 5-minute standing ovation after he was done with his speech, and had come back down to his seat at the table next to mine. Everybody else, I think, was applauding for Costello because of the way he had led Cadence from a $10 million enterprise to a $1 billion enterprise in the 10 years he was at the helm of the company. In fact, I'm pretty sure there were a lot of the people standing around me – the other people chosen to sit at the "special" tables – who were applauding Costello because they themselves had gotten a big cut out of those millions and billions. A lot of these guys are pretty wealthy men, in large part because of Joe. They invested in him because he was fun and smart, and a lightning rod for ideas and energy and earnings, and it paid off. I'm probably the only one who was up in front who hadn't made any money off of Joe Costello. In fact, I wasn't even in EDA when Joe was rampaging around the industry. So, why was I was applauding? I gave Joe Costello a 5-minutes ovation because in watching him give his acceptance speech – with his hands flying in the air in front of him, with his wild tangential asides to his own stream of consciousness, with his laughing at his own jokes, his crying, his zest, and his zeal – I realized that I wasn't the only one who would have reminded Mr. Potato Man of John Cleese. I may be the John Cleese of the Paparazzi in EDA, but Joe Costello is definitely the John Cleese of the CEOs in EDA, and he's definitely the only John Cleese amidst the distinguished population of Phil Kaufmann Award winners. And that may be the nicest thing that anybody's ever said about Joe Costello. Because try as I might to understand why Costello received the Kaufmann Award – and I tried hard – the best I could figure out was that Joe Costello got that award because of who he is. He's wild. He's zany. He's out of the box. His hands fly all over everywhere. He laughs at his own jokes. He cries in public. He can't find anybody who can talk to him eye-to-eye. People love to be with him. They love his zest and zeal. He's really smart. He's not afraid to use the King's (Sailors') English to get a point across, fast and furiously. And in bringing all of that to Cadence, he apparently drove them to succeed and believe in themselves in a way nobody else could. And these days, like John Cleese, Joe's a bloody wealthy man. John Cleese may be a clown, but he's made millions off of it. And so has Joe Costello. These days, John Cleese can rest on his laurels, relax a bit, and find a mellower way of life. And so can Joe Costello. In fact, I don't buy for a minute that Joe Costello's actually frustrated by the pace of life in the MCAD world, even though he claims he is. He's earned some rest from those years in EDA, and he's luxuriating in it. I'll bet that all of the waving, and wild and wonderful energy, that Joe brought to the Cadence deal was exhausting for him. Yeah, he made bazillions in the process – for himself and his family and his friends – but it had to have been at such a price. It's just got to be so much more friggin' relaxing for him now that he's out of EDA, off Faulty Towers, and no longer the ring leader of Monty Python and the Flying Circus. He's out of the Big Top and has left the show in the hands of the remaining clowns. The show's gone on in his absence – although it sure as hell doesn't feel like anybody thinks it's as much fun today as it was when Joe was around. Which brings me to the poke in the eye and the punch in the snoot. ****************** I've quit 3 jobs in the Paparazzi Circus so far this year. The first time I quit, I gave up a job that was basically paying chump change. The second time I quit, I wasn't getting paid nothing at all. Zip zero nada. The third and final time I quit, I walked away from a job that paid, but had no upside potential. Each time I've quit, I've gone out with my hands flying, laughing, crying, and giving each of the guys I worked for a (figurative) poke in the eye and a (figurative) punch in the snoot on my out the door - because that's what clowns do. It's been a hoot and a holler. When Joe Costello left EDA, he went out with his hands flying, laughing and crying (figuratively). He gave the industry a poke in the eye and a punch in the snoot, and never looked back – knowing full well that there were other clowns who were perfectly capable of taking over for him. Some time passed, he came back to accept his award for all that had transpired in those years in the Flying Circus, and then he wept for the good old days. When Costello was moved to tears last night, I was of two minds. One mind said that clowns shed tears because life's a circus and a tragedy at the same time. That's why the rest of us laugh when clowns cry. But, my other mind said that Costello's tears were because – although, it may be true that John Cleese and Joe Costello are more mellow, more relaxed, and sleep better these days – in their heart of hearts, they miss their old selves. They miss the chance to be zany and zestful and wild. Given the choice of "getting" the award for who they used to be, and "being" who they used to be – they'd rather be doing the "being" than doing the "getting." That's why they cry. They miss the Big Top, the roar of the grease paint, and the smell of the crowd. Of course, if they were still in the "being" phase of life rather than in the "getting" phase, they wouldn't have been able to enjoy that glorious exit moment when they got do the punch-in-the-snoot-and-the-poke-in-the-eye thing. Because that's a hoot and a holler, and apparently doesn't disqualify one from being ushered up to the front to sit at the "special" tables. All told, the "being" was much better than the single moment of the poke in the eye and the punch in the snoot. And the "being" was much, much better than the "getting." But, you know what's really funny? After the event was over last night, somebody came up to me and expressed disappointment with Joe's speech. I asked the guy if everyone wasn't, in fact, relieved that Joe had been so grateful, humbled, and visibly moved by the award. The guy said, "Well maybe. But I thought he'd be a lot more critical of the industry. I thought he'd take this chance to really let us have it, for how inept we've all been." All I could think was, Ohmygosh! Once a clown, always a clown! And nobody loves a clown unless they're giving somebody a poke in the eye and punch in the snoot. Oy vey ... send in the clowns! ******************
October 29, 2004 Peggy Aycinena owns and operates EDA Confidential. She can be reached at peggy@aycinena.com
|