Take the Donut (How to Be a Good Hang)

Sometimes the smallest experiences can lead to significant realizations. Here’s a story of one realization that has to do with film music, friendship, and a box of donuts.

Some time ago, I went with some of my university music students to meet Ron Jones. It was an extremely snowy and icy day in Winter, and we almost didn’t make it over the pass in our fleet van.

But this was not an opportunity to be missed. Ron is an accomplished film and TV composer. He worked in Hollywood for decades as the lead composer for shows like Duck Tales, Star Trek: The Next Generation, Family Guy, and many more.

Ron had generously agreed to give us a tour of his studio and a private seminar on careers in the film industry. We learned all about his composition process, saw his studio in action, learned about networking and the realities of the film music industry.

But my biggest takeaway from that day was not about music. It was about friendship and hospitality.

It was about how to be a good hang.

When we arrived to Ron’s studio, he gave us a quick tour. First thing, he showed us to a table with a full spread of fruit, orange juice, and a big box of donuts. “My wife picked these up this morning,” Ron said. “Who wants one?”

We all politely declined, not wanting to put him out. He was already donating his time, after all, and no one wanted to be a bother. Surely, some other musicians or engineers would need them later in the day.

After a quick tour, and seeing the amazing Studio A room—imagine recording a full orchestra in the studio attached to your house!—we settled in for our seminar. He started talking about how music school only partly gets you ready for a career in the music industry.

“And the first course I’d add to the music school curriculum,” he said, “is Friendship 101.”

Ron started talking about how important it was to be a person who is pleasant to be around. In Hollywood, everyone’s talented.

Talented people who are also jerks don’t get called back.

If you want to build a career, Ron said, don’t just have the chops. Learn to be a good friend.

Ron kept talking, but it was at this point that I started to feel uneasy. I reflected on the situation. Ron was donating his time to us—half a day on a Saturday. He was giving us a masterclass, free of charge. He was hosting us in his home.

Then it hit me. The donuts.

Those donuts were for us.

By declining to eat the donuts, we weren’t being hospitable.

In fact, we were unwittingly robbing Ron of the ability to be hospitable to us. And we were robbing his wife as well, who took time out of her own Saturday morning to go out and get donuts. Donuts for us!

By trying to not be a bother, we were harming our nascent relationship with Ron. We weren’t acting like good friends. We were failing Friendship 101.

So I got up, right then, in the middle of his talk. I walked out of the room, straight to the breakfast spread, grabbed a jug of orange juice, some cups, and that box of donuts.

I brought them back into the room and passed the box around—almost every student had one.

I’m sure I’m imagining it, but in my memory’s eye, Ron smiled.

I’ve carried the lesson with me ever since: friendship is about receiving as well as giving. If you meet a colleague or a mentor and they offer you a donut, take it. The donut could be some advice, a book suggestion, a contact you should reach out to.

By declining their offer, you’re actually declining to engage in a relationship with them.

Ron came to us a year or so later to give us another masterclass via video conference. I’ve kept in touch with him since we visited.

We had a great rest of the day, that snowy day in Winter. But I hope he didn’t have any other guests coming to his studio later in the day. Because if he did, there were no donuts to offer them.

We ate them all.