Saturday, December 10, 2005
I remember when Mr. Gothard...
Reader forlibery sends in his recollections of Mr. Gothard from his days as a staffer. Have your own story? Send them here.
I only had a few, but they were enough for my lifetime.
FUCH and Such
During a seminar on the West Coast, an admiring alumnus took Mr. G and the staff out for a ride on his yacht. The alumnus happened to bring a friend who didn't know Uncle Bill from Adam. I suspect the alumnus was hoping that the aura from the master would rub off on his friend. Alas, the opposite may have occurred, as this guy entertained us with a lengthy etymology of the F word. It was entertaining, really, esp. watching Mr. G. just listen and smile at the appropriate times.
One thing that helped open my eyes was my observation of Mr. G's interactions with others in IBLP leadership. They treated him like a god. I expected that from the average IBLPer, but I was surprised to see people I thought would stand up to him bow down and worship. From my few observations, it appeared that nobody had the will to say, "That's the craziest thing I've ever heard!"
Except his mom. According to a friend of mine, she gave him a reality check a few times during a trip to Taiwan. He shared some rhema, and she said, "Bill, now where do you get that from? I don't see that there." And when he "suggested" a fast to everyone, she pulled out a chocolate bar and started munching away.
No Bubble Zone
Most Westerners have a "personal space bubble," but this saint is free of the inhibitions that afflict the rest of us. One time, he reclined his car seat back...all the way back, so that his head was literally in my lap. Alas, we were all "under the influence," so nobody told him to quit being rude.
The Dilbert Principle
There was one thing that made me feel sorry for the man, but I suppose it's his own fault. I had the "privilege" of being his assistant for a day, and in his directions, he treated me like a child. He couldn't just tell me to send a letter for him; he had to explain how to fold it, how to seal the envelope, and oh, remember to put a stamp on it. It was so laughable, but apparently he was accustomed to incompetent help. Scott Adams' maxim is true, at least in IBLP; only the incompetent get promoted, and the right-hand man position is reserved for the most incompetent of all.
(No offense to any ex-right-hand men out there, but that's the only conclusion I could draw from his strange behavior.)