The Artificiality of Attaboys

 

You can bitch and whine about America all you want (gods only know that I do!), but ultimately there is one thing that the land of the free and home of the brave has that other countries don’t – Capitalism. Let’s face it folks, each and every one of us has a selfish streak. Whether it be the desire to amass wealth, or to accumulate stuff, or even to redeem ourselves and save our souls through charity work; we are all fueled by some form of what amounts to personal gain. That drive is what makes us get out of bed each morning, put on our slacks, shorts, jeans, skirts or tranny-hose and work our booties in a 9 to 5 (or whatever) mindset.

 

When faced with the tasks set before us in our various workplaces, there is that almighty question that keeps coming up day after day after day, “Why do I put up with this $%*%? Oh yah… cuz I’m getting’ paid.” Incentive, typically in the form of dollar bills, is what makes us carry heavy things, face insurmountable tasks, tolerate people that we’d rather bitschslapp into next week, etc. But is money the only form of incentive? Well, not always. Sometimes, the workplace gets creative in encouraging people to work harder and do more. “But Guppyman!” you may all be thinking, “what the heck could be more important than the almighty dollar?” Well, I could see the logic in a workplace offering, say, a paid day off. The company doesn’t lose any money, technically, and you may very well enjoy being paid to lounge out by the pool for a day. OK, I’m down with that concept! To me, this one makes sense.

 

Some workplaces come up with all kinds of things to incentivize their employees. Benefits of working in some places range from things like movie or entertainment tickets, to discounts on foods, to stuff. And ya know, I’m absolutely good with all these things. To me, these are real benefits. But then occasionally, we see workplaces come up with “attaboys” that do little more than to patronize. Take, for instance, the “employee of the month” concept. Ever walk into a fast-food place and see the photo of a smiling employee on a poster? I can’t help but roll my eyes in a moment of “kill me now”. Now don’t get me wrong – if becoming “employee of the month” results in a paid day off or something cool, then great. But if working extra extra extra hard results only in being named Burger Chef’s “employee of the month” that just doesn’t cut the mustard.

 

In corporate America, I am constantly amazed by the petty things that are done in an attempt to make some feel better or more important than others. In my office, for instance, there is a seniority pecking order. Senior managers get nice window offices, while the admin staff are relegated to cubicles. Now don’t get me wrong – I really like my office. I have a gorgeous view of the misty-covered mountains in the distance. But ultimately, the office is just a place where you work. We all have desks. We all have computers. And with my ipod on, I’m in my own little world anyway. The physical location is somewhat arbitrary. Amazingly, I have seen people just pitch a fit because one cubicle is just a few inches bigger than another, or a corner office has a slightly better view than another person’s, leading to all kinds of unnecessary office tension. “Mommy! Jonnie’s piece of cake is bigger than mine!!!! WAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAH!”

 

Then we have parking spaces. The parking garage next to my building has one floor out of five with reserved parking spots. Key managers in my building who have scored some unusual and unnamed brownie-points can be assigned a reserved parking space. OOOH!!!!! A private-personalized-parking-place!!!! How chic! How spiff! How… Um… WTF? IT’S A PARKING GARAGE FOR CRYIN’ OUT LOUD! Who cares?!!! The fact is, there are plenty of spaces for all. And try as I might, I just cannot even begin to fathom the value in an assigned-spot in a garage with plenty of spaces. Know where I want to park? As close to the exit as possible so that I don’t get stuck behind exiting traffic. And conveniently for me, the spots closest to the exit are the general-parking spots.

 

What really got me goin’ recently is our staff sign-out board. Our floor has a magnetic board with our names. Any time any of us is not in our office, we are supposed to sign ourselves out to identify where we are. And in complete respect to this almighty symbol of corporate-organization-at-its-finest (smell that sarcasm?) I created the magnets that say “Starbucks”. That way, when the bombs hit and they sift through the rubble, they will know that I am not buried beneath the all-important-files-of-contracts-gone-by because I went across the street to get my cuppa-me. Anyway, the sign-out board lists all of our names in alphabetical order. Makes sense, right? Well… only sorta. You see, there are the majority of us on the bottom. But then, there are the “reporting managers”. Those are the people who have staff. They are all up top. Why? Um… uh… um… ya know, I have never understood exactly why. Most recently, a particular manager at my exact same level and exact same designation switched roles and was put as a supervisor. And on the sign-out board, his name moved upward. WTF? Seriously? Because the nature of his job makes it so that he needs to sign-out differently? Wait… no. Because the nature of his job makes it so that people need to be able to look up to see his name more? Wait… no. Our Division Manager at every staff meeting makes a big point about how important it is for us all to use the sign-out board so that if someone is looking for us, we can be found. Ironically, the first time she did that was approximately a week or two after she had her name taken off the sign-out board. In fact, she is the only person on our floor not on the sign-out board. Clearly at her level, she is far too important to need to be tied down. And after all, it isn’t like we’d ever need to track down the Division Manager in case of an emergency, right???? ARGH!

 

Petty People Politics make me nuts! Call me old-fashioned, but I’d really like to think that the true measure of a person is the quality of his or her work. So yes, some of the status symbols of success just kill me. I’ll gladly take a free movie ticket or a paid-day off, thank you. Or when in doubt, say it with cash. Call me crazy, but providing me something to try and lord over my co-workers just doesn’t impress me.

 

A Challenge for History Geeks!

Hey y'all,


I'm sure you are all familiar with the Bulwer Lytton contest.  You know, the competition to write the worst opening line to a novel?  Well what if we did something similar, but with an anachronistic spin on it? 

Here's your challenge.  Write an opening sentence to a historical novel that makes history geeks just shudder when they read it.  I'll go first.

"As Elizabeth the Queen looked out the window to span the vast fields of her beloved homeland, she could not help but heave a sigh of relief as her ladies in waiting unzipped her constraining bodice."