The One ... The Only ... SFLT Award

My dad was a really easy-going fellow, and there just weren't many things that would cause him to get upset or lose his cool. He had a kind and gentle spirit and the patience of Job ... he was, after all, married to my mom for more than 50 years. Don't get me wrong ... I loved my mom dearly, and she really did have a heart of gold once you got past her gruff exterior. While Dad rarely raised his voice or got angry, there was one thing I knew to never complain about or rebel against and that was going to church. My sweet, kind, easy-going dad did not tolerate any dissension when it came to church attendance ... if the church doors were open, we were expected not only to be there but to participate in all of the activities as well. Though I can't remember how old I was, I remember the first achievement award I ever received was a blue ribbon for winning the Bible drill and perfectly reciting the books of the Bible in the fastest time. It's crazy that I remember that particular church-related blue ribbon award so clearly, because I'm sure I received countless others down through the years. I think I remember that first award so vividly because of just that ... I remember it so well because it was my first award ... I remember that first blue ribbon because I received it for doing something I had never done before.

For all the dramatically dumb, supremely stupid, incredibly idiotic things I've done in my lifetime, I can honestly say that I have never ever made the mistake of hitting the "Reply all" tab on an email when I only intended to reply to the original sender. Well ... I had never done it until late last Monday night, anyway when I accidentally replied to everyone in my office rather than just my friend who had sent an email to all of the employees. While I didn't say anything hurtful or mean or disrespectful in any way in my reply (nor would I ever, by the way), I intended for only my friend to read my note and not the entire agency. I would rate the panic that engulfed me when I realized what I'd done to oh ... about a million times worse than the panic that overtakes me when the tornado sirens sound during a thunderstorm. I immediately called one of the guys on the leadership team hoping he could either tell me how to recall the message or put me in touch with someone in IT who could help me. I'm pretty sure he knew how panicked I was when I said, "I've done a really bad thing ... please tell me you can help me!" He was kind and compassionate as he offered some suggestions as to how I might possibly be able to recall my email ... might possibly being the key words there because ... well ... because it didn't work. To say that I was both terrified and embarrassed when I went to work the next morning is perhaps the greatest understatement I've ever made ... my heart felt as though it was going to explode, and my stomach was churning like a cement mixer on a hot summer day.

One of the best things about working in the advertising biz is the creative ideas that often spring forth from not so wonderful circumstances ... like, for example, when many years ago one of the leaders of our company made his own "Reply all" mistake to the agency. While I am sworn to secrecy concerning the contents of his original agency-wide email (and mine as well, so don't even ask), I can tell you that out of his goof was born a very special award ... the SFLT Award, aptly named after the subject line penned by our glorious leader in that email from years gone by. I am not at liberty to reveal the meaning of the letters SFLT, but suffice it to say that it ... ummm ... is rather "colorful" in nature. The SFLT Award quickly became a part of office culture and has remained as such over the years. The special award isn't given out to just anyone, by the way ... it only goes to those whose "Reply all" emails contain content worthy of being deemed SFLT emails. In real terms, that means you really have to screw up big to get the award. Sending out a "Reply all" email that says "Your dog is ugly" or "I was so drunk" or "The toilet paper isn't soft" isn't even remotely SFLT Award worthy ... trust me ... when the SFLT Award is bestowed upon you, it means you made a really, really, really big mistake.

I'm sure you know where I'm heading ... yep ... last Friday in our weekly agency staff meeting, I was presented with the infamous clear acrylic frame with a ceramic squirrel standing guard on the top watching over a printed copy of my now historic email screw-up. My only comment as I walked back to my spot at the rear of the conference room after accepting the not at all coveted SFLT Award from one of our senior VPs was, "Almost 13 years without getting this ... almost 13 years." It almost felt as though the entire room let out a sigh of relief, happy for the message that was conveyed ... we all mess up, and some of us mess up bigger than others, and most of the time, it's not the end of the world. The leadership team deciding to give me the award let everyone know not only that they were able to laugh about my mistake but even more important, that they had forgiven me and that they very much wanted me to forgive myself as well.

I was thinking as I was walking on the trail with Ollie this evening ... maybe for just a little while, I'll attach a new definition to the letters SFLT ... maybe I'll call it the Super Freaking Lucky Terrie Award ... maybe I will ... maybe I will indeed.