I had noticed something about a particular political race that I didn´t think the real pundits had caught onto yet. I was planning to point it out in a blog post, a letter to the editor, and/or even a syndicated article. But before I got a chance, my thunder was stolen. The next morning, my local newspaper published a front-page story detailing the situation. I was heartbroken. But, of course, this wasn´t the first time such a thing had happened to me.
Early in my life, those incidents were almost always my own fault. As a child, teenager, and young adult, I never knew when to keep my mouth shut. I would carelessly tip people off to things, allowing them to steal my thunder over and over again.
For example, I can recall an incident from childhood in which I got one-upped as a result of dropping too many hints. My parents had been playing this newspaper bingo game. It was a promotion co-sponsored by the paper and local merchants in which the merchants would hand out bingo cards (one per visit) and the paper would print "hidden" numbers within the text of various ads. Finding all the numbers in any given week for any given card would result in a cash prize of up to $50 (that was a lot of money back then). Well, I happened to see the last number needed for one of my parents´ cards in Friday´s paper (it was printed only on weekdays). But instead of telling them immediately and getting credit for my knowledge, I hinted around about it to one of my brothers in a teasing fashion. Of course, I ultimately gave him enough information so he could locate the number, inform my parents, and get all the accolades for it. By that time, it wouldn´t have done any good to announce to them that I knew it first.
I also remember a sports trivia game I played against some of my coworkers early in my career as a computer programmer. We formatted it like a game show, with the "emcee" asking the questions out loud. Three of my coworkers and I would then respond by shouting out the answers. By all rights, I should have won, as my knowledge of sports trivia far exceeded that of the other players. And had the responses been recorded by "secret ballot," I would have won. But I lost because one of my opponents skillfully used the format to his advantage. In fact, he played me like a fine tuned piano. For the majority of questions, I would confidently voice my responses before anyone else. Well, this guy, knowing how confident I was about them, would then yell out the same answer. Now, in those cases when he knew the answers and I didn´t, he would wait for me to throw out an obvious wild guess before providing his correct answer. Bottom line -- he profited from all of my knowledge while I got no benefit from his.
Nowadays, I take great care to avoid spilling my guts about things I should keep to myself. I even try to avoid thinking too hard about certain subjects around people for fear that they might somehow read my mind or at least glean something from my body language. But no matter how hard I might try, I know I´ll occasionally suffer the heartbreak of stolen thunder.
Early in my life, those incidents were almost always my own fault. As a child, teenager, and young adult, I never knew when to keep my mouth shut. I would carelessly tip people off to things, allowing them to steal my thunder over and over again.
For example, I can recall an incident from childhood in which I got one-upped as a result of dropping too many hints. My parents had been playing this newspaper bingo game. It was a promotion co-sponsored by the paper and local merchants in which the merchants would hand out bingo cards (one per visit) and the paper would print "hidden" numbers within the text of various ads. Finding all the numbers in any given week for any given card would result in a cash prize of up to $50 (that was a lot of money back then). Well, I happened to see the last number needed for one of my parents´ cards in Friday´s paper (it was printed only on weekdays). But instead of telling them immediately and getting credit for my knowledge, I hinted around about it to one of my brothers in a teasing fashion. Of course, I ultimately gave him enough information so he could locate the number, inform my parents, and get all the accolades for it. By that time, it wouldn´t have done any good to announce to them that I knew it first.
I also remember a sports trivia game I played against some of my coworkers early in my career as a computer programmer. We formatted it like a game show, with the "emcee" asking the questions out loud. Three of my coworkers and I would then respond by shouting out the answers. By all rights, I should have won, as my knowledge of sports trivia far exceeded that of the other players. And had the responses been recorded by "secret ballot," I would have won. But I lost because one of my opponents skillfully used the format to his advantage. In fact, he played me like a fine tuned piano. For the majority of questions, I would confidently voice my responses before anyone else. Well, this guy, knowing how confident I was about them, would then yell out the same answer. Now, in those cases when he knew the answers and I didn´t, he would wait for me to throw out an obvious wild guess before providing his correct answer. Bottom line -- he profited from all of my knowledge while I got no benefit from his.
Nowadays, I take great care to avoid spilling my guts about things I should keep to myself. I even try to avoid thinking too hard about certain subjects around people for fear that they might somehow read my mind or at least glean something from my body language. But no matter how hard I might try, I know I´ll occasionally suffer the heartbreak of stolen thunder.
