Back Rub the wrong way

I noticed a job posting today for Stark Investments in Milwaukee, Wisconsin, land of our fellow cheeseheads, and was quite surprised to see the title of the position. Instead of seeing Senior Director of Accounting, or VP of Purchasing, I came across the enviable opening of "Senior BACK OFFICE Manager." Now I'm not sure how popular that title is, or how many people are pounding on their doors, or how to put that title down on a business card without cringing, but somehow can't imagine that to be too flattering. My mind wanders to a social engagement, like a dinner party, and imagine the conversation going towards, "so what do you do?" In between the CFO, VP Engineering, and the like, no doubt the "Back Office Manager" would stand out like a sore thumb. So what does a "B O Manager" do?

Name Change

I saw in the paper today that a guy changed his name to In God We Trust. I think it's great that Mr. Trust is so firm in his beliefs; I just hope he doesn't turn cynical and name a child of his First National Bank And.

Management by Cliche

A few years ago, HP pioneered the concept of MBWA, or management by walking around. The intent was for management to get out of their cozy offices and get to know their people by mingling. Such behaviour was expected to promote teamwork and cohesiveness, thereby improving productivity. Now, I don't know if it succeeded, but at the time HP was growing rapidly, fueled no doubt, by the growth of the technology sector, in general. Was it really due to the concept of MBWA or was MBWA just a by-product of the natural culture which led it to success. Or was it neither and that HP was just at the right place at the right time with the right product that was destined to climb.

This has led to my thought of the recent deterioration of management, or "leadership" as my company like to call it. Instead of any new, profound thought, we are deluged with Colin Powell quotes that are as dated as my HP reference or Fortran. I constantly hear "one size doesn't fit all" or "we don't want to swing the pendulum too far." Whatever happened to real leadership? I believe we have replaced any new leadership thoughts with old and tired cliches, because we have people in leadership roles who are not qualified, and resort to what is familiar. What is troubling is the fact that a large number of the herd actually responds to the rhetoric as if this is exciting! This speaks volumes of the state of the economy and civilization. While we ramble on, our crafty European and Japanese are developing more creative workforces. Oh well, if it ain't broken, don't fix it.

Blondie

Ever notice how certain names immediately convey some imagery? It's kind of like "Hubert's" give you the impression that the gentlemen is somewhat nerdy, but friendly. "Horatio" is doomed to be a milquetoast. Don't even get me started on a "Melvin."

What I find particularly interesting is how every "Sara" or "Sarah" that I have ever met is blonde. Now I didn't necessarily say that Sarah's are attractive, just blonde. Think about Sarah Jessica Parker strutting around New York in her blonde locks. Don't forget Sarah Michelle Gellar sashaying in her Buffy attire. Just thinking of Sara makes me Smile.

Power Lunch

My first opportunity in the real world was as an intern with a big (8, now 4) accounting firm. While on an engagement with a very significant client, I had lunch with the rest of the audit team consisting of a senior and two junior consultants. Since we had to pay for our own meals at this time, we chose to imbibe at Wendy's. I ordered a small meal because I tend to be a slow eater and wanted to leave a good impression with our "boss", the senior auditor, by being attempting to showcase my exemplary conversation skills. Unfortunately, I chose to have a bowl of chili with extra cheese and onions. Although the beans probably would have been sufficient to cause some minor embarrassment, the cheese actually caused me the most problems because of its naturally gooey nature. Imagine for a moment, how difficult it must have been to pull the stringy cheese out of my mouth as it continues to remain intact all the way to the bowl. It even leaves you with that weird "hairy" feeling that you didn't get all of it even after you pull the last remaining strands. Although the senior tried her best to ignore my challenge, I know it made her uncomfortable. What truly saved me in this ordeal, (yes this is a positive story with a great? ending) was the lunch choice of one of my other junior audit colleagues. Instead of selecting another great meal from the menu board, he choice to bring his bag lunch with him.

To which he got immediately reprimanded that bringing his homemade concoction was just plain "unprofessional." Not only that, but she felt, although interns, we were still paid handsomely, and should be able to afford a decent meal, even if at Wendy's. In the event that we would be eating with clients, she would immediately have taken that bag lunch and threw it out or sent the junior auditor crying home. Needless to say, I was utterly shocked that she brought up this perspective with such rigorous passion! My junior friend however continued to munch on his home prepared sandwich and seemed mildly amused, but nonetheless seemed bothered.

From this day forward, the poor sap decided to pay for his meal and never brought up this situation again. I now reflect on this story, as I have many times, and realize somehow the trauma of this situation has remained with me, because I cannot recall any occasion where I brought my own lunch to work. I also realize much too late how absurd the thought was to publicly admonish someone who was trying to save a few dollars on a paltry salary or chose to maintain a certain nutritional diet. Unfortunately, I have to publicly admit that I am now that ugly senior, and have looked unflatteringly at those who do tend to bring their lunches to work at my place of employment. I can be having a lunch meeting, and as soon as I see that lunch bag come out, I'm just ready to scream. Instead, I just cast a slight downward glance as I eat my cafeteria special while shaking my head disapprovingly and referring to my lunch-bag carrying denizen as a "plebeian" who will never advance to the next caste as long as I am able to offer my opinion during promotion periods. In fact, I would even stoop to taking a bite out of the sandwich while the person steps away to wash their hands or gets a soda while leaving the meal in a vulnerable and visible spot. When they return, they become so disgusted that they will typically through the "damn" thing away, while I secretly laugh on the inside as they generally suspect the wrong person would take a germy bite out of their artistically assembled sandwich.

I will continue to do so until I rid the world of these unprofessional bag lunch people!

Barnes & Borders

I stopped in my local mega bookstore recently, and became puzzled as to what they are trying to sell. There in the corner was a small cafe serving small pastries and coffee whilst readers were sipping their warm java as they flipped pages of, no doubt, books that they had taken off the shelf. Now, I can understand that libraries are now cutting into this line of business by offering their own cafe on premises. In fact, our local branch even offers a cup of coffee as well where the strong savory smell permeates through every wing of our library. In that case, I can understand that the books are essentially free, so why not make some extra cash by pushing the liquid caffeine? But the primary source of revenue in a bookstore must be the books, right? So why do they encourage potential buyers to sit around and read their books without having to purchase them. In fact, don't they risk that the book reader may damage one of their publications by spilling their liquid gold on a brand new Stephen King book? Yes, one could argue that then the book store just made a sale, but realize that most in this situation may just quickly close the book and put it back on the shelf awaiting the next unsuspecting buyer? I also think asking people to come in and relax somewhat upsets the entire premise of the retail world. Turnover! Shouldn't customers come in and buy what they need and get the hell out so you can make more profit? Imagine if people lined up at the Infiniti dealer only to come in and sit in the car while drinking coffee without any intentions of buying? Why, not only would that discourage other potential buyers, the dealership would rarely have a car to test drive with all the homeless people squatting in their previously shiny and clean cars!

This insanity must stop! It's just so un-American! Now leave me alone while I head over to my Starbucks so I can use their Wi-FI connection.

Shook me all night long

This early morning, I awoke to a vibrating bed, and it didn't even cost me a quarter. No, I wasn't at a cheap motel, but rudely awaken at 4:30 in the morning in the midst of a real live, crevice making, earth splitting, earthquake! Imagine my surprise to see the walls shaking like Jerry Lee Lewis while trying to get out of bed walking like Jerry Lewis. I originally thought that such occurrences were reserved for those on the west coast. My to my dismay, my world was turning. Now as I brace for the aftershocks, I'm reminded of a time when things were so much simpler, and you could count on things being there when you wake up. Instead, I can't sleep because I keep thinking my toothbrush is bounding to the toilet during the next wave of tremors. What am I going to do!

Wide Bottom Girls

With all due respect to Freddie Mercury and Queen, I do have some empathy for those overweight women out there. However, I do believe that I have run into a couple of those Lane Bryant types who may not necessarily be classified as the nicest people around. Case in point: yesterday as I was leaving the complex of my large midwestern employer, I was walking through the crowd trying to get to my car in the parking garage. There is a narrow hall that can fit approximately 20 people wide going in both directions. This allows probably 3 people walking alongside in each direction. I, along with several others, was trying to keep pace, when suddenly there she was. A large woman who happened to be going at a slower pace. Now, I do not begrudge someone who may not be able to keep up, especially those who may be elderly or potentially have some physical handicap. Rest assured, this was not the case. What was unusual in my circumstance was the velocity of her arm movements. She was rapidly flailing, yes flailing her arms around to such a degree that no one could pass her.

Now, I'm not referring to her arm movements as those of a typical speed walker. Hers was definitely of the obnoxious, "don't even think about passing me, or I'll snip off your scrotom" variety. More to come tomorrow.

The Wright Stuff

Why is one who writes plays not referred to as a playwrite rather than the seemingly misspelled playwright?

And what's with that bizarre phraseology anyway? Was John Lennon a songwright? I don't believe John Grisham is a bookwright. And yet, Ben, Little Joe and Hoss are all Cartwrights.

Can't they all just be authors? Or writers?

Just a thought.

Nathan Kinzel, blogwright

Privilege

I don't mean to sound insensitive, but ever notice how some handicapped individuals may actually have benefits not typically afforded to the general populace? Now, I am not referring to handicapped parking spots, nor bathroom stalls, which I can fully understand and endorse due to their disability. What I'm intrigued about is the ability to do what you and I, John Q. Public, cannot do. For example, just today, I was walking down the hall of my large midwestern employer and walking beside me trying to keep pace was a man walking on crutches. As he walked, he let out some lengthy flatulence, that because of the sheer duration of the sound, I admit that I was somewhat impressed. Now, my first reaction was, "whoa, that can't be what I think it is," so I paused. I kept insisting to myself that it must be the rubber on the bottom of his crutches or perhaps shoes that were rubbing together that unusual sound.

To which, he definitively reminded me that there was no mistake in that he let loose again. No, not only did he repeat his reminder, but cut loose a monumental example of why he IS the man! Afterwards, he looked at me like he was surprised that I would dare question his need to release some gas. As if, I were the one with the unusual problem. I then noticed an older woman walk past who looked at me with a serious, but quizzical stare as if I were the one with the problem as well. No doubt that she heard and noticed what HE did, but now she was staring at me as if I were the issue. So now, my friends, I am at a loss. Perhaps, I should be more sensitive to those less fortunate, and allow them this rite of passage without making them feel so uncomfortable. You could say, I suppose, that I should cut them some slack as they cut the cheese.

Ironic

No, this is not a tribute to Alanis Morrisette, but an observation. Why is it that there are so many bald barbers? Worse yet, why are there so many overweight doctors? You'd think that they, if anyone would understand proper nutrition. I thought it peculiar when I took my son in to the optometrist recently and noticed that all the doctors in the practice wearing glasses. Didn't they eat carrots when they were young? Imagine my surprise to find the local LASIK practitioner is blind as a bat!

Take Me to the Cleaners

I really don't like ironing. Part of my problem is that I'm a slow ironer. A week's worth of clothes will take me an hour. But I (strategically) have enough clothes to last me two weeks. My standard ironing session has therefore now been extended to two hours.

I have finally allowed myself to escape this grueling task by taking my clothes to the cleaners. Aside from the obvious extra expense, I have discovered a minor problem with this idea - there is a non-stop barrage of hangers entering our household.

I've contemplated taking them back to the cleaners for "recycling" but I don't like the thought of my clean clothes hanging on someone else's used hanger. I'm sure I'm not alone in that.

In trying to stem this tidal wave of wire, I have adopted far more stringent quality standards in my hanger assessment. At the first sign of bending, those wire hangers are gone. The slightest crease in a cardboard pants-hanger renders it obsolete. This isn't enough.

Hangers get sent off to school with my college bound son. My youngest son does his best to rotate the stock by yanking his clothes from the closet with barely a thought that there is some object that suspends his shirts underneath that shelf. Still, they don't stop coming.

Vacant hanging space in my closet is filled with idle hangers. The college son's empty closet is empty no more as even more hangers have filled that space. There's no more room in the laundry room. Or the youngest son's closet. Or the pantry. Or the refrigerator. We've even resorted to giving hangers to Goodwill. Please make it stop! With these cleaning bills, I can no longer afford a bigger house.

Bathroom Etiquette

Here's a topic that I have yet to find Emily Post address. What do you do when you happen to be having a conversation with a colleague, and he begins to walk into the restroom? Do you continue the dialogue as if nothing's change even though you are surrounded by plumbing? I found myself in this predicament today. First, I must say that the conversation began innocently enough. I was attending an offsite meeting, and decided to make a mad dash to the building complex because it happened to be lightly raining. As I came closer to the building, I noticed the colleague in question up ahead, and as he saw me approaching, he stopped, despite the rain, and waited for me to catch up. Because of this courtesy, I believed that I had an obligation to continue the conversation since he earnestly struck up the dialogue. During the middle part of our talk, and without warning, he entered the bathroom. He ran into the stall, and rather than stand there dumbfounded, I decided to use the urinal. After a few moments of awkward silence, he continued the conversation as if nothing was different.

Besides the occasional groans and grunts coming from the stall, nothing else was unusual and he was able to discuss the complexity of calculating the company's latest quarterly results. During this awkward spell, he let loose what could only be described as an incredible cleansing of the bowels. Not only was there the tell tale sound of water splashing and volcanoes erupting, he was still able to resume the dialogue as if nothing was happening. At this point, I am trying to wash my hands and hoping no one else were to enter to hear us keep this conversation going while he was in all his glory.

Now, my real dilemma at this juncture is how do I leave? Should I stay and be subjected to this and possibly be accused of being the perpetrator as I walk away with his stench on my clothes? Or do I leave and possibly risk that he is offended that I left him in mid-conversation? After all, he was willing to stand in the rain and wait for me earlier? Or worse yet, what if I leave and don't say anything, and he assumes that I am still there continuing the conversation with a ghost? What if someone enters to hear him talking to no one?

Bowling 101

I joined a company bowling league last fall. This is not my company's league, mind you, so over and above the fact that I'm a member, this is clearly a league with minimal restrictions on membership. Just the same, these people are serious about their bowling; makes one wonder what I'm doing there.

My first lesson on day one - bowling is done at a "house". And there are apparently vast differences between these houses because one of my teammates told me later on that at "this house" he only needs to bring two [bowling] balls. Yes, only two. This person owns four bowling balls and drags them (literally) every week to our house of bowling. With roughly 70 pounds of equipment, bowling bags can now be purchased with wheels and can also be stacked one upon another.

And if you purchase a new bowling ball, this equipment should be phased in slowly. Sort of a courtship period, if you will. It takes some time to develop a relationship with a new ball so one should proceed cautiously - perhaps using only for practice for the first few weeks.

Let me tell you, there is quite a level of sophistication for a league comprised of teams such as the "Big Johnsons" and "Minds in Da Gutter".

Bunny Job Hopping

Yes, it is that great time of the year when we scurry around looking for those golden eggs. No, I'm not referring to Easter, but an employment search. This led me to the weird thought that why are references ever requested anymore? In this age of litigation, you'd think that there are other ways to corroborate character, like credit checks, background checks, and checks in the mail. Anyway, I digress. Is it really feasible to ask for references when we know that the candidate will attempt to provide a biased sample of people to speak with. Ok, so it is somewhat disguised as Grandma puts the handkerchief over the phone to pretend to be Sally the CFO from IBM.

This is Nuts

Felix Pie of the Chicago Cubs is suffering from "testicular torsion" (or in layman's terms, a twisted testicle) that will require some minor surgery. This is apparently a rather expensive procedure because I hear that Elliot Spitzer paid over $4,000 to have this done back in February.

Breakfast of Champions

100% fruit juice. Whole grain cereal. God, I'm sick of eating healthy (well, let's ignore that cheeseburger I had for lunch today).

Seriously though, is there a better juice than Hawaiian Punch? I'm telling you, if you simply mix sugar, water and red food coloring together you get one tasty beverage. Fresh squeezed orange juice has nothing on a nice Hawaiian Punch.

And then there's Cap'n Crunch. Sort of like eating crunchy candy for breakfast. And it really stands up to milk! For that matter, it really stands up to my gums too. However, once they scab over and form calluses there is not a better cereal on the planet.

Mock Apple Pie

I suppose this does sound more appetizing than "Ritz Cracker Pie" but somehow I don't see the need for a fake apple pie. Research tells me that there was some kind of apple shortage back in the 30's so America's insatiable appetite for apple pie apparently had to be addressed somehow back then. But has anyone under the age of 70 ever not seen apples at the grocery store?

How does someone come up with this idea, anyway? "I wish I had a slice of apple pie right now - but maybe cracker pie would be just as good?" I think I might be more apt to make a fake strawberry pie with a bag of Starburst candies. I guess I'm just not a forward thinker (except for the "microwave" refrigerator idea a few weeks ago).

Then again, I really have no room to talk because I could go for a bowl of Apple Jacks right now.

Shake it up

In this day of rampant professionalism, I have to admit that I am uncomfortable with extending my hand to shake hands. Although I'd like to say that germs may be a factor in this consideration, and have had my share of standing by the restroom sink washing my hands while coworkers will "do their business" only to walk out with palms dripping with invisible bacteria, I do feel strange as people I do know well attempt to shake hands under the guise of professionalism. Obviously, I return the firm shake with a haughty "how do you do" or "good to see you again" to make it even more insincere. Am I wrong that I prefer to keep my distance with my colleagues or do I have to continue to play this unusual game of dilbert-esque interaction?

I would not socialize with these individuals, nor would I spend more time than necessary, so why must I be subjected to shaking the hands of someone and act like I really enjoy spending more than a prefessional minute with them. Excuse me while I wash my hands.

Sweeping Changes at My Place of Employment!

As an employee of an engineering firm, it's not unusual to occasionally find a few employees poring over a large drawing. This afternoon I noticed our Quality Manager gazing at a drawing with one of our machinists - not an unusual sight. What struck me was the janitor peering over this drawing at the same time. I'm not sure what input he could possibly have or, for that matter, what vital information he may have been acquiring from the conversation. I can only guess that there were special janitorial needs for this particular project; must have been an especially messy part that required an extra pass or two with the sweeper.