A Lifetime Warranty

I’m a deal attorney and have a passion for negotiation. One of my most memorable negotiations took place at a Cadillac dealership in Sherman Oaks, California, when my father, immediately after entering the showroom and taking one look at a shiny Cadillac DeVille, quickly blurted out: “Andrew, this is the one. I want it!” At that moment, I knew he had diminished any chance I had at negotiating a great deal with the salesperson.

You see my father, Gerald Glincher (born “Glimcher”, my grandmother changed the spelling for simplicity), was a car guy. For many years, he made his living driving a cab through the streets of Boston. That’s how he supported our family. You could say he was a little obsessed with transportation, because he drove a cab for so long. Instead of a conversation starter about the weather or his beloved Boston Red Sox, my father would ask people, “How many miles are on your car?” or “What are you driving?” This was always followed up with, “Is it in good condition and are you taking care of it?”

For as long as I can remember, my father dreamed of owning a Cadillac. Many Sundays he would ask me to go with him to a Cadillac dealership in my hometown of Brockton, Massachusetts, to look at cars. About thirteen years ago when I had the ability to fulfill my father’s wish, I bought my father a Cadillac. While his days of driving old, beat up cabs were well behind him, it was important to my father that his Cadillac have an excellent warranty. After all, his livelihood depended on reliable transportation for decades. A broken down cab would have had significant financial ramifications for our family. I could sense concern in his voice when he found out the warranty was only good for five years. “Dad, I’m giving you a lifetime warranty on this car,” I told him. “If anything ever goes wrong with this car, you let me know and I’ll take care of it.”

It’s been just over two years since my father’s death, and I am reminded of him in different ways every day. We both shared a love for baseball. When he and I would go to games, we would often arrive at Fenway Park at 11:00 in the morning for a 2:00 p.m. game, and we would always leave no later than the sixth or seventh inning. As a cab driver, he hated traffic, so we had to beat the traffic and get free parking.

Today, in my role as CEO and Managing Partner of a large, international law firm, I’m on the road quite a bit. I’ve taken hundreds of flights, and I’ve never missed one. That’s because of my father. Everyone’s time is valuable, and I can’t afford to be late and miss a meeting with my colleagues or clients.

My father didn’t need an MBA or even a college degree to reinforce a strong work ethic and leadership qualities that I use every day. He was personable, charitable and empathetic. I would like to think I inherited these traits from him. As CEO, I’m focused on people and connecting with my colleagues and our clients. Over the years, my father reminded me that everyone is facing challenges, and the importance of putting yourself in someone else’s shoes when you interact with them.

Many people assume I am in my position today because I had a privileged childhood. And yes, I have had a privileged life, but my definition of privilege may differ from others. While I didn’t have many material things growing up, I feel privileged because of the love and time my father gave me. On this Father’s Day, I take heart in knowing his fatherly advice is with me every single day . . . a lifetime warranty you could say.