Buying Borrowed Time

In the world of business and with the prophetic voice of Janet Jackson, "What have you done for me lately?" rings true. A body of work is remembered after the smoke has cleared from a career. But when the same career is active and in motion, the last thing accomplished is the first item in leadership's mind. If the last accomplishment grows more distant in the rear view mirror, the "do you have a minute?" talk closely follows. Lucky for me, my latest accomplishment bought me some borrowed time.

Excuse me, sir. When is my clock up?

My co-workers and I incubated a demo release for days. Okay, weeks. Okay, months. It has been incubating for so long I thought it would hatch on its own with ill regard for us. Leadership grew weary of our internal meetings. They needed external results. Something to hang their own hats on. Finally the product was ready, the waiting was over, the expectations were high, and the room for error was minimal. Pressure cooker. Deliver the product or receive a pink slip.

Sit back, relax your crack. I got this.

The demo went well. It went great. It went spectacular. If interested in the details, please send me an email request directly. I recommend reading through these details if you suffer from insomnia. By the second paragraph, the delta waves will flow in stage 3 NREM. Point is, the success of the demo bought me and my co-workers time. Our latest accomplishment is on the horizon. It will be a few days before it even transitions to the rear view mirror. I am living on borrowed time and loving the view.

You will read the first few lines--then POOF! Out like a light.

Hitting one out of the park is a nice feeling. A temporary comfort zone. The hard work, the late nights. All in an effort to identify and connect with the sweet spot. An effortless swing as the deliverable ascends beyond expectations and into the fanatic clutch of the client. I tell myself to enjoy the present. Remember this time. Take a deep breath. The ascension leads to the opposite. What goes up must come down. The euphoria gone and replaced by the anticipated deliverables pounding on the front door with a due date.

While leadership rides the wake of my recent efforts, I am taking off early on Friday. What have I done for them lately? A lot. Once the lollipops and rainbows wear off I will head into work early on Monday to avoid any "do you have a minute?" talks. Tomorrow, all I have is time. Monday, I don't have a minute. I don't even have a second. I am busy working on making someone else look good three months from now.

Conference Room Forecast: Cold with a Chance of Hot

Temperatures begin in a deep freeze. It is cold enough to trigger hypothermia in a thick blooded Eskimo. Without notice, degrees will skyrocket to the point of dehydrating a camel. Welcome to the most uninhabitable area on earth, welcome to our conference room.


Could I trouble you for a cup of hot cocoa from the pantry?

The extreme variation in temperature involves two variables. In nature, these variables would be meteorologically based and somewhat intuitive to the novice weatherman. An advancing mass of cold air in a low pressure system or an advancing mass of warm air in a high pressure system. In our conference room, the variables in constant battle are an Epson projector and an air conditioning unit. Cold as shit with a 100% chance of hot.


Heading in now for the 3 o'clock status meeting.

The projector is a must have. It is fixed to the ceiling and has been used for countless presentations. The hookup is easy and the picture is clear. What is unique about our projector is that it projects not only images, but also the heat of a thousand suns. In a bind, the Epson aka "Bernie" could double as a heating unit for a small townhouse. The ceiling location maximizes available countertop space. It also keeps clients from receiving third degree burns and unwanted visits to the emergency room. Due to the relentless heat, the commercial real estate manager received numerous complaints about life on Mercury. She responded with building engineers to fix the problem. The answer: a portable air conditioning unit.

Much thought was given to the AC hookup. The engineers vigorously reviewed the building blueprint and entertained all options. They promptly threw out all the options, gutted a corner ceiling tile, and connected the portable unit to flexible aluminum ducting that is force fed to the ceiling. This shiny, NASA-esque product now juts out like a spacesuit for a giant penis. No matter where you sit, it is always within peripheral vision. Rocking to the beat of the air flowing through it. Inconspicuous.

Okay, so the portable unit is somewhat noticeable. But it does the job well. In fact, too well. I am convinced the duct feeds directly to Yakutsk, Russia. Air is pumping out hard, check. Air is cold, check. Temperature more appropriate for an Arctic Musk Ox, check. This is where it gets interesting. Not only are there two weather patterns in a room the size of a suburban kitchen, there is also the noise.

I'm sorry, can you repeat that? There is some background noise.

The projector makes a high-pitched tinny sound. If our company ever introduced a "bring your dog to work day", all the canines would howl their way out of the conference room and directly into their respective owners' car. The AC unit is the opposite. A low, consistent, guttural sound, Robert Mitchum serenading on a megaphone. Battling both weather and sound while giving a presentation is a challenge. A presenter can even the odds by moving throughout the room and commanding the floor. Too hot, move towards the door. Too cold, move towards the back of the room. All the while, adjusting the volume of one's voice to the appropriate level for attendees depending on positioning in the room. For the attendees, it is more difficult when stationary.

Stay cool Corporate Joe. I know you can hear me.

Choosing a place at the table is important. The worst seat in the house is smack dab in the middle. Counter-intuitive. In the middle is where a person would want to sit. Best of both worlds. Blasting the AC with the top down on a hot, sunny day. Nice image. Except in this case, it is the extreme of both worlds. Smelling burning flesh on one side of the body while battling frost bite on the other. But hell, I was late to the meeting. I deserve this seat. Then it hits me, this can be the same location for the exit interviews next week. A great way to accelerate a painful process. There is always a silver lining. Even in this uninhabitable place.

Truth Serum Font

It has to be frustrating to be a leader. To motivate and inspire employees who, at most times, are frustrated and uninspired themselves. Waiting to go home. Waiting for a paycheck. Waiting to die. Reading a satirical blog with limited hits. I always wondered what the inner-monologue would sound like between constructing a memo in an executive’s mind and actually typing it as an email. Forfeiting harsh criticism in favor of a diplomatic manner takes a daunting amount of self restraint. There is a chasm as wide as the Grand Canyon between what the top of the food chain wants to write and how it should be written. How would it read if the gap could be closed with executive level truth serum font? Well, let's take a look.

I love writing a good letter to my bank employees.

To Whom It Doesn’t Matter,
We constantly engage with our workforce for new ideas. This includes you. It is only through the thousands of unsolicited emails, hundreds of times being accosted in the hallways and one-on-one exit interviews across this great country that we have been able to realize how much you incessantly complain. I wanted to use this opportunity to share the collective feedback received from our bitch and moan portal (i.e., my inbox.)

You gave us spirited responses in high numbers with great insight. Thank you! This will help us learn who we should get rid of. The items below were the most prominent suggestions. We prioritized this feedback and wanted to share it with you along with our thoughts.

• An on-site gym at our corporate headquarters - We heard from you loud and clear on this one. I think Mike D. stated it best when he whines, “I need a shot of creativity at lunchtime and a corporate gym could be a great place to reenergize my body and brain cells for the afternoon grind.” That’s a great idea, Mike! Let’s magically find a non-existent 2,000 square foot space in our building so you and all the other entitled millennials can get the creative juices flowing. Maybe we can also hire personal on-site chefs to feed you on the elliptical. You know what else reenergizes? 5-hour energy. It’s less than three dollars a pop. Swig that down after your spinach salad with flax seed and shut the fuck up. You work in the Accounting Department, Mike. You need creativity as much as a musician needs to know the meaning of EBITA. Instead of working out, let’s just focus on getting actual work done at this point. Based on the last performance review, you are lucky to even have a job.

This gym is going to be awesome.

• Bring casual Fridays back! - Another great piece of feedback which has nothing to do with profitability, competing in the market space, or identifying our core customer base. Paula R. bitched about it best, “Casual Fridays are a freebie and a great recruiting tool for new hires.” Could not agree more. It is a great recruiting tool if you want to single out people who have an affinity for denim and bad fashion. Last time I remember, Casual Fridays slowly crept into other days of the week. Hoochie-Mama Thursdays. Don’t give a shit Tuesdays. Fuck-it Mondays. Provide the workforce an inch and they take a mile. If I hear this request one more time I am enforcing Winged Tip Wednesdays and Double Starched Fridays. Have your Mommy adjust your Double Windsor knot in the morning and get to work.

Is it Thursday yet?

• Implement a Project Management Database – Something work related, a Christmas miracle. Thank you Dave H. for being the only one to introduce a relevant business item. He writes, “I have been diligently constructing a management database to capture costs of each geo-coded project, the purpose of the project, number of employees involved, and market area. This will help identify gaps and overlaps in each sector of our business as well as tap into future opportunities.” Wow, impressive. Funny thing though, I don’t remember asking for this--you know why? Because it is already being implemented. Tag that as an “overlap” in your stupid, obsolete database. Here’s an idea for when you have an idea, share it with others first. Now you have wasted time on the company dime. Good news is you get out early today to pick up your kids from school. Bad news is, you’re fired.

I cleaned out my desk like you asked. What did you want to see me about?

I hope you found this open dialogue helpful. It is always nice to cut through the red tape and hear what is on your mind. I like waking up at 4:30AM to get this shit out of the way so I can begin my real job of keeping the lights on in this place.

One Week, Six Pages

I have been wrangled into the middle of the storm. We have one week and six pages. The challenge: write a proposal section pregnant with promise that is confined to limited real estate. All while senior personnel use their competing voices and priorities to dictate inclusion and exclusion criteria. It's an official shit show. After this stint, I am adding, "wordsmithing peacemaker" to my resume.

Doubt thou the stars are fire, Doubt the...
Oh fuck it, I always sucked at proposals.

It started with an outline [It always starts with an outline.] Find the story before telling it. Define the flow and narrative. So many opinions, so little time. Punch them in the mouth with their key challenge on the opener, it will help them to understand we know their problem. Start out with our experience, it will help them know we can do the job. Begin with the "how", it will help them realize we have a process to solve their issue. No one is on the same page. At this point, no one is even in the same library and I have yet to write a single word.

You and me? Yeah, we're writing this together.
Whether you like it or not.

I would have written less but I did not have enough time. God bless you Mark Twain, now I understand. With brute force mentality, I power through the first draft and fasten my seatbelt for the next meeting. Without surprise, the latest version is torn from limb-to-limb by the angry mob of editors. "Weak intro", "It doesn't speak to the statement of work", "Too long", "I hate you."

There's the author. Get him!

We play 52 pickup with the table of contents. Another outline, another write-up. It might be saved as "V.2" but when considering everyone's input, "V.26" is more apropos. A frenzied email string reveals all the current holes. Everyone implores that a meeting is vital to the success of this piece. A meeting is scheduled with numerous personnel from multiple skill sets for balanced input. One person shows up. One person gives feedback. With this one voice I find the next rewrite much easier to tackle. Except everyone who was unable to attend the meeting now has a delayed opinion.

Entertaining drastic edits while in the actual process of writing is impossible. It's like participating in an episode of Jeopardy! with an air horn blasting in your ear. That is it, going offline. My whereabouts moved from "Do Not Disturb" to "Try and Find Me". Off the grid of connectivity. Alone with my thoughts. Churn and burn those thoughts into words.

Has anyone seen Corporate Joe?

Next draft, next meeting. The imminent deadline staring back at us. Hints of consensus. A narrative is beginning to take shape. Still pushing. A few sticky points for inclusion. Almost there. Rewrite. Review. Rewrite. Review. Done! Except it is nine pages. Three pages over the limit. Time to be a heartless surgeon.

The editing room floor is riddled with half-baked ideas and run-on sentences. Too detailed, gone. Too broad of a stroke, see-ya. Great sentence with no substance, bye-bye. I am drunk with power. The tables have turned. This indentured servant now owns the estate. Each stroke of my red pen more empowering. Who are we kidding with Figure 1.2.5-7a.i!?! My kid draws better process flows with his Crayolas. Table 3, puh-leaze. That 7 point Arial font makes it look like a nest of indecipherable ink. Here is some advice, have a point.

This shit has got to go.

Final review. The smoke has cleared and the crying has stopped. The group accepts my aggressive, inevitable, and necessary edits. Then we hear back from the solicitor. They would like us to explore this section more and we can expand. I have to hand back the keys to the castle. Hero to Zero. It was fun to be in charge for a bit. Now I have to shut-up and listen all over again.

Open Office, Closed Mind

The open office space concept has kicked it with the crossover. The design has transcended its Silicon Valley roots and reached into more traditional institutions. The latest adopter[victim] is Citigroup. In its new Manhattan office, not even the CEO will have a door. The supposed benefits are touted as work related. The sentinel effect: a boss can keep his eyes on the workforce. Productivity and favorable outcomes increase when one is being watched. Busy-ness: a bustling workplace that makes each employee feel like they are a part of something bigger than themselves. Increased collaboration among co-workers. Egalitarianism: a removed hierarchy that flattens out any org chart. We are all in charge. Oh, and money. Saving money to be specific. Loads of it.

Trust me kid, Bluestar is going to love this new floor plan.

Companies are saving coin, some in the millions, with unassigned and open seating arrangements. If everything is equal, fighting for an office is no longer an option. No need to configure space when a grid will do. Same design, limited materials, and a uniform layout for everyone. Companies can adapt to explosive growth without having to pay significant expansion costs related to rent and utility bills. Packing in the masses trumps breathing room. If future quarters look promising, rent out another floor and create another grid. Most employees do not like the open office and the amount of reasons why are astounding. I live with it when I visit the office. Based on experience, open floor plans should be as dead as the Dodo bird.

Love the layout. When can we build the real thing?

The supposed benefits are greatly out-of-sync with the reality. For the sentinel effect, I cannot work when I am being watched. I am an introvert by nature. The big brother setup induces anxiety, not productivity. When I arrive, when I leave, how many Flaming Moe's I drank. All are being monitored. Solution: when the boss might be looking, look busy. There are several techniques I recommend with optimal results. While reading through a random deliverable, bite the end of a pencil and then tap it on the egalitarian table top. Open an excel spreadsheet with numerous macros and formulas that perform calculations in endless loops. Swivel your head from hard copy deliverable to the screen of macros. Bite and tap the pencil at well-timed intervals. Nothing is getting done and something is happening at the same time. The environment creates a setup to look busy rather than to be busy. Productivity appearance up, productivity numbers down.

Drop off the guns, pick up my brother at the hospital,
stir the sauce, don't call from the house, get arrested by the Feds.

Get together! Shoot some ideas around! The workplace is buzzing with activities! None of these are true--at all. When privacy is physically taken away, personal walls can be created through other means. A forced community feel is battled with Beats, Bose, Skull Candy and shooting range earmuffs. There is a staggering reduction in eye contact. Phone conversations are now conducted through hushed toned headsets. All of these are non-verbal cues indicating people will fight for every ounce of their privacy in a public space. The only buzz generated is from the fluorescent lighting. The outcome is counter-intuitive. Human interaction replaced by silence. The noise level of our office rivals that of a sign language convention.

Please, whatever you do, don't talk to me.

I work. My company pays me well. If the open concept saves the company money, I'm down with it. My problem is hiding the motive of savings under the guise of a company's emotional well-being. Please do not spread shit on my sandwich and tell me it is apple butter. I know what you are selling. Tell me the truth. I will respect you even if I disagree.

Corporate Joe in open space land? No thanks--"cubicle land" is better. Both in title and in practice.

Holiday Newsletter

Happy Holidays to everyone. It is difficult to summarize the past 12 months in only a few paragraphs. So much has happened and 2016 is already knocking on the door. Lots to share. In this letter, instead of complaining about work, I am here to celebrate it.

I am counting my blessings this holiday season in lieu of bitterness. One of the wonderful perks to my employment is my bi-weekly drive to the Baltimore office. My car comes home clean every time I head up north because the chance of rain is 100% when I am at the wheel. As if God himself wrangled all the water from habitable planets in the universe and decided to unleash them in a 12-hour period. 

It looks like it's clearing up.

The precipitation has a nice affect on the 70 mile commute. Instead of dealing with the pesky accelerator I was able to view brake lights, fire trucks, police sirens, and the occasional car fire on the shoulder of the road. With the heavy traffic, I could enjoy these vistas for twice as long as necessary: 3 hours, one way, to be exact. On one occasion, the thoroughness at which my window was smashed was impressive. More so since it happened during business hours in the company parking lot. Driving home with the wind and rain actually in my car gave me an appreciation for storm chasers. What I am trying to say is....thank you, Baltimore.

It looks like it's picking up, I'm going to head home now.

It is difficult to refrain from bragging in these letters. A big part of me wants to toot my own horn. A small part tells me to be humble. Well, here goes--when I am not in Baltimore, I work from home. As a matter of fact, I work from home a lot. Some would say, "too much." Others would say, "Is he still around?" Video conferencing makes me feel more connected to my co-workers. Once they see me onscreen, they make me realize I should be more connected with my razor. 

Can we speed it up on the agenda, please.

Days in isolation and I begin morphing into Will Forte's stunt double for, "The Last Man on Earth." Except a stunt double would actually be in shape. Working from home also involves eating, lots of it. I check the refrigerator approximately every five minutes to see if the contents have changed. My weaknesses are pickles, olives, cottage cheese, mozzarella cheese, muenster cheese, cheddar cheese, cheesy cheese. Okay, so I like cheese. They all say, "How does he stay so thin?" Here is my secret: at the end of the day, I go on a 20 foot walk to the mailbox. It helps burn off the cheese. I also have voices in my head that say, "How does he stay so thin?" Enough of the bragging.

Hmm, I wonder if there is any cheese left?

December is a time of reflection. We will not remember anything past the first five words of "Auld Lang Syne" but we will remember those who touched our lives this past year. Yes, a company has to make profit. But that profitability is directly tied to the work of the employees. The people who show up every day to give the best version of themselves. Those are the people I will remember. And if you took all of my co-workers from this past year and laid them end to end in a straight line, you are a fucking weirdo. You don't do that people.

Carpe Diem, Tomorrow

I have a write-up due. Technically, it WAS due but since I have not started, it is still due. A white paper to be exact: a report that provides insight to an existing or developing business issue with proposed solutions. The purpose is to whet the appetite of the forward thinking client and line the pockets of the firm proposing the solution. A win-win concept, but only if it is actually written.

I know it's breakfast time, but lunch would be good right now.

This white paper will take one day of research and two days of writing. I already have an outline. Within the past several weeks I have completed three other white papers. The difference is those were due based on a hard deadline. If it is important to leadership, it is important to me. My job is to make their job easier. The opposite also holds true. The incomplete white paper was assigned from a specific leader who follows up with light requests, "How is it going?", "Talk me through your progress.", "Why are you drunk?" Without a deadline, the report burrows itself to the bottom of my inbox.

I'm sure that deliverable is right under our feet.

Some of the hardest workers have the biggest lazy streaks. They are self aware enough to keep themselves busy. Without work, self-destructive habits subtly occupy everyday life: excessive eating, sleeping late, or hard core underground Slovakian porn. The scariest thing for a hard worker is white space on a calendar. The emptiness creates temptation to embrace their lazy streak. I waver between the two worlds of busy and lazy. Both depend on my emotional state and current work leader. Sometimes it is churning through assignment after assignment with no end in sight. Eventually, there is a glacial shift towards inactivity. This latest assignment without a deadline is classical conditioning towards laziness. Like pavlov's dog, I begin to look for a new show to binge-watch on Netflix.

The devil finds work for my idle hands in the form of a remote control.  Left to my own devices, I become a couch potato. Ten pounds and 30 Dorito Bags later, I recognize my ass has been parked on the sofa for a month. My work capacity and physique constantly swaying back and forth between a "before" and "really before" picture.

You've got your health...insurance.

When given a deadline, my shiftless pavlovian dog can morph into a border collie. With job, have purpose. My business mind operates at a high level when an ambitious deadline is at hand. It also makes me aware of my self imposed decision resulting in second-tier status. The realization is I never serve as my own catalyst. Great business minds find work and capitalize on it whereas I capitalize on the work given to me. A fine line with a big difference in pay grade. The worst part of all, I am okay with this.

What you want to be a leader for anyhow?

I like the feast and famine of work and relaxation. Besides, for years I have been hearing 'The Wire' is a must see. And those Doritos aren't going to eat themselves.

Auld Lang-ziety

I have been consistently employed for the past 30 years.  I started as a bus boy at the Denny’s on Route 1 in Alexandria, VA. The 5:30PM to 11:30PM shift for five days a week. Six hours of straight work came with a free meal. The short order cook named Marcus (who smoked copious amounts of weed) would always have "Moons Over My Hammy" waiting for me at the end of my shift. I made sure he never ran out of plates when the restaurant was slammed with hungry drunks. I worked there 30 hours a week and he was the only one who regularly called me by my first name. To most, I was the invisible bus boy. Marcus would hit the bell with his spatula and call my name when my food was ready. It was the first time I ever felt appreciated for my sweat equity. The paychecks were small but the feeling was large and the food was free.

Good work, CJ. You can have some of my medicinal brownies next.

That was the summer of 1985. Many career changes have happened since. But as of right now, for the first time in my life, I'm scared to find a new job.

Job-hunting at the age of 45 is intimidating.The challenge is not related to finding a job, it is about the stress of finding the right job. Once mid-life hits, the stakes are high. I don't want to buy a Corvette and get a divorce, I want a new career.


What's the big deal? It's just a car.

Due diligence is imperative to ensure the next move lands on bedrock instead of quicksand. Looking back, it was a slow progression to arrive here.

• Ages 15 to 22. All I wanted was extra change. Spending money for clothes and gas for the car. My horizon was the next two weeks. During these years I was a bus boy, I waxed and buffed floors, and worked in food service at Mount Vernon Hospital. I even cut grass on Fort Belvoir military base with workers on furlough from Lorton prison. After each summer ended, I always had the luxury of walking away.
• Mid-20's. A college degree now. Interviews. Salary instead of hourly. But youth is wasted on the young. Despite landing a great job I saved up a few paychecks and eventually quit. No plan. Just knew that I was not interested anymore.
• Late 20’s. A career starts to form whether voluntary or not. I learned what I was good at and what I liked and that sometimes the two were mutually exclusive. I also learned two career limiting actions 1) my excessive enjoyment of happy hours and 2) saying, "that's not my job."

So I booze a little. Shoot me.

• Early 30’s. Life settles in--fast. Marriage. Kids. Mortgage. Voluntarily locked in. The career becomes a centerpiece. How good am I at what I do? No more half-assed work products in hopes that senior management would correct my mistakes. Own it. Working beyond my job description.
• Late 30’s. Moving up with enough tenure to manage large scale projects and groups. People are actually listening to what I have to say. My input is no longer patronized, it is necessary. Skipping happy hours in lieu of work.
• Early 40’s. Instead of swiveling my head in a conference room looking for someone with an answer it turns out everyone is looking for an answer from me. Did someone call me a "thought leader". Ugh.
• Mid 40’s. TBD.

Just one thing, CJ. Go out and find it you jackass.

It is difficult to conjure other careers after being employed at one place for so long. My 'anything is possible' attitude has been downgraded to 'these are my limited options.' Mistakes are allowed in youth, I made plenty of them. Now? Not so much. Retirement is no longer a word, it is a reality. What was once abstract is now concrete. I have to squeeze all the risk I can out of my job search. There is another Marcus waiting for me, he is ready to ring the bell once the job is done right. Moons Over My Hammy sounds pretty good right about now.

Turkey Work Weak

For those poor souls employed in retail and awaiting their fate on Black Friday, please skip this article and God Speed. Next year, go on strike.

 

Thanksgiving poses a conundrum for the majority of employers with white collar personnel: the 3-day work week. On paper, three days looks like enough to make a dent in the inbox. In reality, things end before they start. What can be pushed off until Thursday or Friday in a normal work week is either dealt with on the spot or transitioned to the next Monday. The former is ambitious, the latter more likely.

Dude, that shit can wait until Monday.

Many people decide to take the entire week off for Thanksgiving. Flying out of town to see relatives or waiting for relatives to fly in. Shopping, alcohol, turkey, football, octogenarians asking, “What did she say?” and alcohol. For the record, I love Thanksgiving. Rushed after Halloween and eclipsed by Christmas, it’s the middle child holiday. Often discounted, but upon arrival, you realize how much fun it is when you pay attention to it.

Christmas! Christmas! Christmas!

Okay, maybe it’s not worth a week off. Many co-workers feel the same. It’s a 50/50 split on vacation. Half are in the office and the other half on vacation. Work energy begets work energy. When colleagues are not around to add energy, my get up and go is replaced by sit down and eat. This behavior is enabled by the out-of-towners. The less work I push their way, the more I will be appreciated upon their return. The lower the workload, the easier it is for everyone to transition back to a 5-day grind. Wednesday, one meeting: 30-minutes in the AM. Then the schedule is wide open for me to hammer my inbox before the holiday kicks in. I could document an updated process, tighten up some standard operating procedures, and review the latest analytical output that needs further research. All of these sit and wait for my action. I am the catalyst. Potential energy waiting to turn kinetic.

Don't even get me started.

If a tree falls in the woods and no one is around to hear it, does it make a sound? Better yet, if an employee sits at his desk and no one is around to see it, does he complete any assigned work items? No, no he doesn’t. Enjoy your Thanksgiving.

Tech-Shabby

Technology advances at a blistering pace that appears unsustainable. At the same time, it constantly eclipses itself with new releases to reset another bar of achievement. The following items are less than a decade old with mainstream usage: Xbox 360 (2005), the iPhone (2007), Facebook (explosive growth in 2006), Hulu (2007), and Netflix streaming (2008). The same holds true for computers. Within the short span of five years my laptop morphed into a relic. The IT Service Department made the call. They notified me of the imminent license expiration of my Dell. Not a list I want to be on. It was time to let go and embrace the future.

You don't even want to know who else is on the list with you.

I set the appointment for noon and arrived at the IT desk with my antique. It was heavy, had five years worth of data on it and it broke my heart to let go. Not for sentimental reasons. Rather due to the reluctance of embracing new technology. Some people are early adopters, I am a laggard clasper. The weight of my laptop, the familiarity of the keys and the intuitive navigation I had organized on my desktop--gone with one upgrade. All replaced with something sleeker, lighter and more advanced. I viewed the whole transaction with a Philip K. Dick level of suspicion.

Would you relax and hand it over. It's just a laptop. Trust me!

The HelpDesk viewed my computer with the same amount of suspicion I had dropping it off. I could see the nonplussed look on the technician's face as if to say, "How did you get away with having something this old?" I ignored the look and asked about the turn-around time. The benchmark is three hours. Worst case, four. Off to lunch.

After several beers and a nap in the quiet room I checked back at 3PM. The IT Desk reviewed the progress to indicate the transfer was halfway through. My shiny new toy was sitting in the corner, being charged with life and information while my old computer was being sucked dry and made obsolete. One generation feeding the next. I couldn't bear to watch. I'll pick it up Monday.

These computers are made from computers. You've got to tell them.

Monday morning, new computer! I cannot even figure out how to login. I grudgingly ask a millennial who hits the screen and points to the login area. Touch screen? Witchcraft! I felt like an uncool 80's parent asking their child to change the time on the VCR. Touch screen is just the beginning. Next is remapping my brain with the cosmetics and layout. Nothing looks as it did before and everything is in a new place. A double whammy that causes my Monday morning productivity to plummet. I call it a loss and head home early on Metro. Goodbye for now technology. You're a dynamic, fluctuating twist of wires, memory and data. I'll catch up tomorrow. For tonight, my geriatric blues are staging a "Golden Girls" DVD marathon. 

Technology went and got itself in a big damn hurry.

New Blood Has Me Boiling

I had a meeting this week with a new co-worker labeled a "Rising Star" by leadership. A real "go-getter." The future "Golden Child" of the project. It makes me want to "throw up." Sorry, quotes were stuck. It makes me want to throw up. Unwittingly, leadership has now infused this individual with equal parts purpose and self-importance. I enjoy listening to tenured personnel with singular insight and expertise. However, a plebe trying to kick knowledge without a foundation is revolting. It is the equivalent of shooting a cannon out of a canoe. If you try big things without a strong base and proper footing, everything falls apart--fast.

A lot of people are telling me I'm pretty important.

Prior to the meeting, I assembled materials on the subject matter to bring the rising star up to speed. It included a summarized version of all the documentation I had accrued over the years. The session was geared towards me talking and the go-getter listening. It worked well, for the first five minutes. He stopped the conversation. Which I made clear was okay. Any questions along the way, please interrupt. Except there was no question, it was advice. My facial expression indicated I was not asking for counsel.

You disloyal, fool-ass, bitch-made punk.

To be clear, this is a process I am handing over for production at a lower level. Specifically, my co-worker's level. This item is based on a work product with a solid track record. It is proven, sustainable, and durable. It is quickly put under the gun by someone not proven, testing their sustainability, and we will see how durable they are once responsibility is assumed. 

You are currently at a set of steak knives, don't make it worse.

To be blunt, the "advice" stunk. It is easy to ask big questions in order to sound smart. It is fun to respond to those same questions to reveal the stupidity of it. This is not a back and forth brainstorming session. It is not open dialogue. It is listening to what I have to say and asking questions as we go.

Leadership followed up with me after the meeting. "Isn't he great!", "We are so excited to have him on the team.", "He is our special snowflake that we will simultaneously enable and coddle." Okay, so I made that last one up. But it is not too far from reality. My frustrations were at the brim. I did what any well-seasoned veteran would do, I lied, "Yes, you were right, he is great." Let the newbie figure out the hard way that work comes first. Do the work accurately and efficiently to gain the trust of your team. After that, knowledge naturally follows. 

For now, he will be shoveling buckets of water out of his canoe. 

I knew I should have listened.

iPhony Plan

Within my company, managers are highly encouraged to have a company iPhone. Not a requirement, but definitely a strong suggestion. A suggestion that I ignore. When cornered, my answer is “Freedom Ain’t Free, Brother” followed by a shotgun blast in the air while enjoying a fresh dip of Copenhagen. Yes, the phone and data usage are paid for. But that payment comes with a cost. The ability to check your email. The ability to know whether or not you are checking your email. The ability to know whether or not you are checking porn. Or for those who are really ambitious, actually making your own porn film. It is all on the phone. Connectivity and traceability.

So you're saying we have to delete some footage from our phones?

Most employees submit due to the financial and portable convenience. Financially, the activity is covered. It is a significant savings per month to many of the ascending managers looking to minimize their expenses while maximizing their 401K’s. Portability is more con than pro to me. The definition of convenience is tricky. The great news is that it enables an employee to check email from wherever they are. The bad news is that it enables an employee to check email from wherever they are. A slippery slope that I refuse to engage in.

Call me anytime, pal. Money never sleeps and neither do I.

Convenience is the item that closes the deal. A portable electronic device is now at a manager’s disposal. Email is the driver. Check for new email. Read new email. Send new email. An open door for communication that never closes. Forget the door, it has been removed from the hinges and run through a wood-chipper. It is an open tunnel that keeps an employee a few keystrokes away from making a co-worker connection. No thank you.

Can we close this communication portal?
It's creating a draft on my personal life.

Never turning off work inadvertently co-mingles initiatives that can cause a person to short circuit. Making fish sticks and tater tots for the kids while trying to actively increase the latest profit margins is unattainable. It surpasses ‘not easy’ and flirts with impossible. The American business culture is fascinated with multi-tasking. It is a mythical standard many aspire to and fail. The promotion of an iPhone with access to the company server solidifies this myth.

Doing one thing excellent with singular focus is better than doing multiple things at once with ordinary results. Chipotle does burritos. A few select meats, combined with some veggies, beans and rice. Then end it with edible and attractive accoutrements. In the end, you have a great lunch. Golden Corral does everything. A multitude of fruits covered in a film of pesticide. Then combine it with a cornucopia of meats and cheeses that turns a colon into a pipe jammed with wet newspaper. Then end it with a chocolate fountain to run all your insecurities through. On the surface, it appears everything is to be had and in the end nothing is achieved. The buffet is swimming in a sea of below average.

Everyone back away from the buffet!
I have something we all can eat.

So shove it with the free phone plan. I may not check my email all the time, I may not be accessible in the wee hours of the morning. But when you see me online, I am accountable, I am a force to be reckoned with. And when I am offline, well, I am making my porn film on my personal iPhone.

Visionary Evasion

Innovation is the pipeline to new work. Visionaries use innovation to transcend day-to-day business operations. It allows them to capture a glimpse of what can be done if we dare to imagine. Visionaries push beyond an inbox. They harness their brainpower and pioneer into new intellectual territories of their respective fields. However, when it comes to real work, visionaries are useless as a screen door on a submarine. They evade the day-to-day work because they don’t understand it in the first place. A visionary double downs on this lack of everyday knowledge by requesting a brainstorming session.

It's a little clunky for a prototype. But give me 30 years and I think I have something.

A visionary’s “vision” often originates from an amalgamation of their subordinates’ ideas. Being a leader has its benefits. One of the benefits is co-opting a respective team’s intelligentsia and packaging it as their own. “Everyone get together and brainstorm.” is a euphemism for, “Let me cherry-pick the best ideas and put my name on it.” Meanwhile, in business land, deliverables are piling up and deadlines are fast approaching.

You are full of ideas today. Tell me more.

Those doing actual work are the lifeblood of the project. The contract survives on their activity. Current performance is a strong indicator of future wins. The client depends on the deliverables promised. Visionaries piggy back off this sweat equity to take a leap of business faith into the future. It is necessary. It is the nature of business. Innovate or perish. But sometimes it is relied on so heavily that the current engine running on the ground floor is dismissed for a blueprint in the executive’s office.

Not trying to be a wet blanket but these plans seem like an awful idea.

The visionary pulls a Chauncey Gardiner by presenting the malleable blueprint. An unformed blueprint hijacked from the collective brainpower of lower level employees. With style and panache, the visionary completes a tight wire act. The laconic delivery is misinterpreted as wisdom when in fact is used for disguising an impostor. The client is both charmed and convinced of the idea. It goes off without a hitch.  It should make my blood boil, but it takes guts for the visionary to put themselves out there. It also holds the promise of future work. Day to day work. My work. Meh, job security.


Business is a state of mind.