Jesse White was a character actor who appeared on Broadway and in movies and television from 1942 until 1996. Among his many noteworthy supporting roles is my favorite, when he portrayed Wilson, the sanitarium orderly--opposite Jimmy Stewart's Elwood P. Dowd--in the film classic "Harvey." White is most widely recognized, however, as the disheartened Maytag repairman (1967-88) who never had anything to fix; for, as White's character frequently intoned, "Maytag washers and dryers are built to last." The company's motto during the Jesse White years was, "Our repairmen are the loneliest guys in town."

Back to "the loneliest guys in town" in a moment, but first, speaking of Maytag...

My family shares a kinship with Maytag washers and dryers. My mother, Bonnie Scholes Fox, was "a Maytag baby." She was born March 19th, 1934 in Newton CIty, Iowa, the daughter of Addison Andrew and Vera Pauline Scholes. That very night, in that same hospital, the matriarch of the Maytag family also gave birth. To celebrate, Mr. Maytag paid the hospital bills for all of the babies born on March 19th, 1934 at Newton City's hospital.

But, back to "the loneliest guys in town"...

It can be quite satisfying to fix things, to restore them to usefulness. Oh, but how much more tempting it can be to fix people--rather than things--to restore them to "usefulness"! Regrettably, however, we often seek to fix others as a result of our own neediness. Like the lonely Maytag repair man, it's more about us and our need to be needed.

It's evident we're trying to fix others when we talk rather than listen; when we lead rather than walk alongside; when we impose our values rather than honor their own; when we have the answers to their questions, rather than the questions that will inspire their answers; when we enable rather than empower; when we seek to re-create them in our own image rather than in the image of the Creator.  

This spring--as if in anticipation of this post--Maytag changed its motto; the new slogan points away from the repairman and toward the value inherent in their machines; the motto declares of their washers and dryers, "What's inside matters." And, indeed, perhaps the greatest service we might offer to those whom we are tempted to fix is to convince them of our faith in their inherent value and wholeness, for "What's inside matters."

Why are "people repairmen" among the "loneliest guys in town"?

How would you best describe your tendency to worry on behalf of another? Is worry an expression of friendship, leadership, virtue? Or is worry an expression of mistrust, control, doubt?  

What's your sense of responsibility around alleviating the pain of others? What's the more effective conversation you might have with them? How might you convince others of your faith in their inherent value and wholeness: "What's inside matters"?

How differently would you treat others if you were confident they were naturally creative, resourceful, and whole?  

How might such a disposition toward others improve your ability to lead? How might such a disposition even improve your likability?