A longtime friend visited me at work last week.
He looked good. The conversation flowed. We shared some laughs.
That I expected.
What blew me away, however, was his handshake.
It was straight out of Gentlemen’s Quarterly, firm and dignified.
Guys, listen up.
The measure of a man is not the size of his checking account, the number of babes he’s bagged or the acreage of his estate. It is what happens between that thumb and four fingers.
A good handshake — taut but not crushing — sets the tone and commands respect. It says I come from decent folk who cared about my upbringing.
A limp wrist screams weakness and insolence.
Circumstances often leave the material things out of our reach. Civility costs nothing and is infinitely more valuable.
Next time you’re out and someone extends a hand, get a grip.
The person on the other end will be glad you did.