My office area at work is currently being remodeled. The powers that be decided to convert our offices into an open concept style workspace. Currently the layout of our office has separate offices with doors and walls and the like. Once the remodeling is done there will be no more walls, doors or more importantly, the opportunity to surf the internet or talk on the phone for hours on end in privacy. To be frank, I think this sucks and not just for the obvious reasons. See, I've just never understood the appeal of the collaborative work environment. If I need something from someone I can yell across the hall at them to get it and conversely, if they need something from me I can avoid them by shutting my door and turning the ringer on my phone off. It's a system that has served me quite well thus far and I just don't see the reason to mess with success.
When my boss was explaining to us the rationale behind the decision that would change all of our lives forever, he explained that it would hopefully lead to more open communication, less duplication of efforts and prevent people from working in silos. After his impassioned plea, I thought to myself "That's the best you've got? Open communication, less duplication and silo reduction?" Please what' so great about open communication? You want open communication? How about this for open communication: "Hey boss, you're the world's worst micro-manager and I mark the days on my calendar until your retirement. Oh and Susie those pants make you look fat." And while we're at it, "Bob is it possible for you to bring a lunch to work sometime that doesn't smell like a rotten carcass? And if you insist on eating rotten carcass for lunch could you not leave it in the refrigerator for three months until it decomposes?" Well, I guess I see the appeal of open communication now.
However, I'm still not sure about the downside of a little duplication of efforts in the workplace. Just because me and the guy next door are working on the same thing because we don't talk to each other isn't such a bad thing is it? It's pretty much a sure bet that one of us will get it done right? Chances are it will be me since the guy next door is pretty busy eating rotten carcass. Either way though, it gets done and there aren't a lot of sure things in life so I don't think that's anything to scoff at.
What I really took issue with though was this talk about silo reduction. I for one am sick and tired of people talking smack about the silo. I'd like you to try telling your farmer friend that he shouldn't be working in or around a silo. I can pretty much guaran-gosh darn-tee you that they might have a few choice words for you. Near as I can tell, silos serve a pretty important purpose not only to farmers but also to silo manufacturers so I just think people should learn a little bit more about our friend the silo before suggesting they should be abandoned completely.
Last but not least, I want to talk about walls. A lot of people seem to have a real fixation on tearing down walls. I guess I'm just of a different school of thought on this issue. Personally, I've always been a big fan of walls, both literally and figuratively. Sure, walls can keep people out but is that so bad? What's so wrong with having a little bit of personal space and some discretion over who can invade it? I certainly don't enjoy smelling dead carcass all day long. I guess I'm not really talking about the walls in my office anymore.
Thursday, April 17, 2008
Saturday, March 29, 2008
Home for the Holidays
I was at my parent's over Easter weekend spending quality time with my family and celebrating the resurrection of our Lord. I like Easter and all but I was thinking that people go on and on about how Christmas has become sooo commercial and everybody's forgotten the real meaning but as far as I can tell Easter's the religious holiday that's totally gone off the rails. I was killing time on Easter Sunday while the rest of my family was at church and as I sat there in my easter bunny costume eating copious amounts of chocolate I became completely outraged at where things have headed.
However, my main problem with Easter is figuring out how to properly navigate the rocky waters of my mother's preparations for Easter dinner. You see, my mother runs her kitchen a lot like a communist work camp except with less fun and interaction. There are only two rules in my mother's kitchen: Rule #1: My mother is always right. Rule #2: When in doubt, refer to Rule #1. These rules have become increasingly problematic for me over the years since I like to cook and every once in a while I actually have an idea that might be slightly different then my mom's and, well, this ain't no democracy. So as my mother was leaving for church on Easter Sunday she gave me strict (the only kind she knows) orders as to what I was supposed to do while she was gone. I was to make the sweet potato casserole, put the stuffing in the oven at 12:00 and turn the potatoes on at 12:30. Timing was critical as any slight variation from the timeline would put the entire Easter dinner and potentially the resurrection in jeopardy. As she was giving me these instructions I noticed that there was also a pot of turkey bones and innerds that were simmering in water on the stove and so I asked what I was supposed to do with that and she told me to do nothing. Great that's my specialty. Definitely can't screw that up...or so I thought.
So like the dutiful daughter that I am (at all major holidays) I went about my business of toasting pecans, mashing sweet potatoes, putting stuffing in the oven and was pretty much on schedule when "go time" arrived. I always get about a two minute warning of when my parents will be coming in the door because they an electric garage door opener which they will activate from their car just before they pull in the driveway. It's a pretty noticeable sound and since its installation back in the mid to late eighties it has served a purpose similar to the air raid warning sirens used during the world wars. Over the year's, my siblings and I have relied heavily on this warning system to provide us with a couple of minutes to either hide or end whatever completely unproductive activities or inactivities we had been heavily engaged in since my parent's departure. It is so ingrained in me that to this day when I'm at my parent's house and I hear that noise, no matter what I'm doing at that moment, I am overcome with the undeniable urge to stop it immediately and begin vacuuming the floor or washing dishes because those are pretty much the only acceptable activities for my mom to "discover" us doing.
My parents arrived home at the expected time and I felt like I had thing pretty much under control. When my mom arrives home I can usually get a read on her mood within 10-20 seconds just based on body language. The initial assessment as she walked in the door did not look good. My mom made her way to the kitchen to survey the carnage (ie. my handiwork) and the barrage of questions began. "Is the stuffing in the oven? Did you finish making the sweet potatoes? Why didn't you add more water to this pot? It's almost dry!" I thought to myself, "Do you mean the pot with two inches of liquid in it that you specifically told me to do nothing with? Sorry, my bad."
As is the trend with these big family dinners everything came together in the end despite my best efforts to help/totally screw things up. I know that they say that nothing worth having come without a struggle but I just didn't think that meant dinner on Easter Sunday. Ah well, it's nothing that can't be solved with some more chocolate and quality time in my easter bunny costume.
However, my main problem with Easter is figuring out how to properly navigate the rocky waters of my mother's preparations for Easter dinner. You see, my mother runs her kitchen a lot like a communist work camp except with less fun and interaction. There are only two rules in my mother's kitchen: Rule #1: My mother is always right. Rule #2: When in doubt, refer to Rule #1. These rules have become increasingly problematic for me over the years since I like to cook and every once in a while I actually have an idea that might be slightly different then my mom's and, well, this ain't no democracy. So as my mother was leaving for church on Easter Sunday she gave me strict (the only kind she knows) orders as to what I was supposed to do while she was gone. I was to make the sweet potato casserole, put the stuffing in the oven at 12:00 and turn the potatoes on at 12:30. Timing was critical as any slight variation from the timeline would put the entire Easter dinner and potentially the resurrection in jeopardy. As she was giving me these instructions I noticed that there was also a pot of turkey bones and innerds that were simmering in water on the stove and so I asked what I was supposed to do with that and she told me to do nothing. Great that's my specialty. Definitely can't screw that up...or so I thought.
So like the dutiful daughter that I am (at all major holidays) I went about my business of toasting pecans, mashing sweet potatoes, putting stuffing in the oven and was pretty much on schedule when "go time" arrived. I always get about a two minute warning of when my parents will be coming in the door because they an electric garage door opener which they will activate from their car just before they pull in the driveway. It's a pretty noticeable sound and since its installation back in the mid to late eighties it has served a purpose similar to the air raid warning sirens used during the world wars. Over the year's, my siblings and I have relied heavily on this warning system to provide us with a couple of minutes to either hide or end whatever completely unproductive activities or inactivities we had been heavily engaged in since my parent's departure. It is so ingrained in me that to this day when I'm at my parent's house and I hear that noise, no matter what I'm doing at that moment, I am overcome with the undeniable urge to stop it immediately and begin vacuuming the floor or washing dishes because those are pretty much the only acceptable activities for my mom to "discover" us doing.
My parents arrived home at the expected time and I felt like I had thing pretty much under control. When my mom arrives home I can usually get a read on her mood within 10-20 seconds just based on body language. The initial assessment as she walked in the door did not look good. My mom made her way to the kitchen to survey the carnage (ie. my handiwork) and the barrage of questions began. "Is the stuffing in the oven? Did you finish making the sweet potatoes? Why didn't you add more water to this pot? It's almost dry!" I thought to myself, "Do you mean the pot with two inches of liquid in it that you specifically told me to do nothing with? Sorry, my bad."
As is the trend with these big family dinners everything came together in the end despite my best efforts to help/totally screw things up. I know that they say that nothing worth having come without a struggle but I just didn't think that meant dinner on Easter Sunday. Ah well, it's nothing that can't be solved with some more chocolate and quality time in my easter bunny costume.
Monday, March 24, 2008
Where Everybody Knows Your Name
I've sort of accepted the fact that I'm not one of those people that leaves a real lasting impression on people when I meet them for the first time. Based on my own unscientific observation, there are two basic ways to ensure leaving an impression. The first is to have something striking about your physical appearance which could be in the form of an extremely unsightly deformity or more preferably stunning good looks. The other way is to have a magnetic personality. Unfortunately I don't have a magnetic personality or stunning good looks and I haven't been lucky enough to be severely mangled in a tragic windmill accident so I just do the best I can with the oodles and oodles of inner beauty I've been blessed with. Thanks again mom. Neither time nor a malfunctioning windmill can take that away from me.
There's a market near where I work and at this market there is a frozen yogurt stand. I am a big fan of frozen yogurt, specifically the type where you pick the fruit and they mix it with the bars of yogurt. It's heaven in a cup...or cone if you prefer. So anyway, I frequent this yogurt stand about once a week. Nine times out of ten I get the same thing which is a strawberry banana yogurt. So today I wandered over there at lunch for my usual fix and I got to the counter and the owner (who's the only one who ever serves me) greeted me and we exchanged our usual pleasantries and then he said "What can I get you?" I saddled up a little closer to the counter, gave him a knowing glance and said, "I'll have the usual". I know it was brazen and it was bold and maybe my mind was clouded with memories of Cheers reruns but I've always wanted to do that and I figured we had established the kind of rapport and history (ie. 8-10 months of me frequenting his business and ordering the same thing every time) that it was time for us to take our relationship to the next level. Not unlike most of my attempts to take relationships to the next level this one went over like a pancake which is to say it fell flat. He responded to my request with a blank and slightly frightened look followed by an awkward pause and then he said "Um, I'm sorry, I don't know what that is."
Although slightly disappointed, I wasn't really surprised that he didn't know what "the usual" was and he did seem genuinely disappointed not to be able to play along. I was reflecting on the events afterwards and thinking that there had to be a way to kick "Operation: I'll Have The Usual" into high gear...without a windmill. My first idea was to show up at the frozen yogurt stand in a slinky low cut number. That would probably guarantee me some level of notoriety. Although frightening the guy (and any small children present) may not be my best option. Plus, he might get the wrong idea and "the usual" could end up being something other than a strawberry banana yogurt. I guess a little bit of anonymity isn't so bad when I think of it that way.
There's a market near where I work and at this market there is a frozen yogurt stand. I am a big fan of frozen yogurt, specifically the type where you pick the fruit and they mix it with the bars of yogurt. It's heaven in a cup...or cone if you prefer. So anyway, I frequent this yogurt stand about once a week. Nine times out of ten I get the same thing which is a strawberry banana yogurt. So today I wandered over there at lunch for my usual fix and I got to the counter and the owner (who's the only one who ever serves me) greeted me and we exchanged our usual pleasantries and then he said "What can I get you?" I saddled up a little closer to the counter, gave him a knowing glance and said, "I'll have the usual". I know it was brazen and it was bold and maybe my mind was clouded with memories of Cheers reruns but I've always wanted to do that and I figured we had established the kind of rapport and history (ie. 8-10 months of me frequenting his business and ordering the same thing every time) that it was time for us to take our relationship to the next level. Not unlike most of my attempts to take relationships to the next level this one went over like a pancake which is to say it fell flat. He responded to my request with a blank and slightly frightened look followed by an awkward pause and then he said "Um, I'm sorry, I don't know what that is."
Although slightly disappointed, I wasn't really surprised that he didn't know what "the usual" was and he did seem genuinely disappointed not to be able to play along. I was reflecting on the events afterwards and thinking that there had to be a way to kick "Operation: I'll Have The Usual" into high gear...without a windmill. My first idea was to show up at the frozen yogurt stand in a slinky low cut number. That would probably guarantee me some level of notoriety. Although frightening the guy (and any small children present) may not be my best option. Plus, he might get the wrong idea and "the usual" could end up being something other than a strawberry banana yogurt. I guess a little bit of anonymity isn't so bad when I think of it that way.
Thursday, March 06, 2008
The Winter of My Discontent
Dear Old Man Winter:
First let me say that I'm a big fan of your work but I'm going to have to ask you to hit the bricks already. Yeah, like today if that's possible. Don't get me wrong, there are days that I really love you. Like that one day back in 1985 when I got a day off from school and I built a snow fort that made the Alamo look like a frigging joke. The problem is, we're going on five months now which means that my patience as well as salt supply is running thin. More to the point, it's March and I just don't take too kindly to enduring numbingly frigid temperatures and Doppler 9000 winter storm warnings around the clock. You've outstayed your welcome and I for one am saying enough is enough.
What do I plan to do about this you ask? Please, isn't it obvious? "Ask, believe, receive.....ask, believe, receive...ask, believe, receive." Yeah that's right, I'm going to send you back to the cold and desolate hole you crawled out of using the sheer force of my will via the principles of "The Secret". Shhhh, don't tell anyone. Trust me buddy, you're no match for the law of attraction. How do I know? Well, just the other day I asked, believed and received for a totally unproductive day at work and wouldn't you know it that's exactly what materialized. And I'm not talking about your run of the mill lack of productivity, we're talking record breaking levels of being unproductive. In fact, the principles of the Secret are so powerful that it's going on about 7 days straight. That may have something to do with the fact that I haven't yet asked, believed or received for a return to productivity but that's neither here nor there right now.
Listen, I'm gonna level with you. This whole thing just boiled to the surface yesterday. See, I drove about an hour and a half out of town to go to a concert on Tuesday night. A concert that I had been looking forward to for months. So despite the Doppler 9000 predictions of a big winter storm, I hit the open road with the unwavering optimism that has become my trademark. The drive there was fine, the concert amazing but things kind of got dicey from there. While at the concert, approximately two feet of snow fell and as we left the concert the skies opened up and began raining down ice pellets to the point where we could barely walk down the street without getting chunks of ice lodged in our faces. Let's just say it wasn't your best work. Obviously the road conditions were treacherous to say the least. With the sound of my mother's voice in my head, I decided to stay overnight with a friend to avoid risking life and limb. The conditions were so bad that I probably should have phoned into work the next day and said "See ya tomorrow suckers.....if you're lucky!" (which FYI is my traditional greeting when informing my boss I won't be in for the day). The problem was that there was too much going on at work that day for me to phone in and I knew I had to be there. Ordinarily I'm a big fan of phoning it in when it comes to work but I'm a lot better at doing it in the figurative sense as opposed to the literal one. I guess I have my parents to blame for that. Not for the fact that I phone it in on occasion at work but for the fact that I rarely miss work. They instilled in us the importance of showing up to school or work no matter the possible (and often likely) risks we posed to ourselves and those around us. Like that time in the second grade when I was up for the perfect attendance award so they sent me to school with the chicken pox and I ended up infecting half of the school. Yeah, I wasn't so popular after that...but come to think of it I wasn't so popular before that either...but I digress. You might have seen the movie that was based loosely on my experience? It starred Morgan Freeman and was called "Outbreak". Listen, all's I'm saying is that if two feet of snow, a plague like downpour of ice pellets and a two hour drive that takes five can't get a sister a day off from work then it just seems a bit pointless to me.
Here's the deal - I'm not unreasonable so I'd like to think we can come to some sort of an agreement before things get out of hand. Here are your options: If you get me a day off work within the next week I'll call the whole thing off. If not, you leave me no choice but to open up a can of "The Secret" on you and you do that at your peril.
First let me say that I'm a big fan of your work but I'm going to have to ask you to hit the bricks already. Yeah, like today if that's possible. Don't get me wrong, there are days that I really love you. Like that one day back in 1985 when I got a day off from school and I built a snow fort that made the Alamo look like a frigging joke. The problem is, we're going on five months now which means that my patience as well as salt supply is running thin. More to the point, it's March and I just don't take too kindly to enduring numbingly frigid temperatures and Doppler 9000 winter storm warnings around the clock. You've outstayed your welcome and I for one am saying enough is enough.
What do I plan to do about this you ask? Please, isn't it obvious? "Ask, believe, receive.....ask, believe, receive...ask, believe, receive." Yeah that's right, I'm going to send you back to the cold and desolate hole you crawled out of using the sheer force of my will via the principles of "The Secret". Shhhh, don't tell anyone. Trust me buddy, you're no match for the law of attraction. How do I know? Well, just the other day I asked, believed and received for a totally unproductive day at work and wouldn't you know it that's exactly what materialized. And I'm not talking about your run of the mill lack of productivity, we're talking record breaking levels of being unproductive. In fact, the principles of the Secret are so powerful that it's going on about 7 days straight. That may have something to do with the fact that I haven't yet asked, believed or received for a return to productivity but that's neither here nor there right now.
Listen, I'm gonna level with you. This whole thing just boiled to the surface yesterday. See, I drove about an hour and a half out of town to go to a concert on Tuesday night. A concert that I had been looking forward to for months. So despite the Doppler 9000 predictions of a big winter storm, I hit the open road with the unwavering optimism that has become my trademark. The drive there was fine, the concert amazing but things kind of got dicey from there. While at the concert, approximately two feet of snow fell and as we left the concert the skies opened up and began raining down ice pellets to the point where we could barely walk down the street without getting chunks of ice lodged in our faces. Let's just say it wasn't your best work. Obviously the road conditions were treacherous to say the least. With the sound of my mother's voice in my head, I decided to stay overnight with a friend to avoid risking life and limb. The conditions were so bad that I probably should have phoned into work the next day and said "See ya tomorrow suckers.....if you're lucky!" (which FYI is my traditional greeting when informing my boss I won't be in for the day). The problem was that there was too much going on at work that day for me to phone in and I knew I had to be there. Ordinarily I'm a big fan of phoning it in when it comes to work but I'm a lot better at doing it in the figurative sense as opposed to the literal one. I guess I have my parents to blame for that. Not for the fact that I phone it in on occasion at work but for the fact that I rarely miss work. They instilled in us the importance of showing up to school or work no matter the possible (and often likely) risks we posed to ourselves and those around us. Like that time in the second grade when I was up for the perfect attendance award so they sent me to school with the chicken pox and I ended up infecting half of the school. Yeah, I wasn't so popular after that...but come to think of it I wasn't so popular before that either...but I digress. You might have seen the movie that was based loosely on my experience? It starred Morgan Freeman and was called "Outbreak". Listen, all's I'm saying is that if two feet of snow, a plague like downpour of ice pellets and a two hour drive that takes five can't get a sister a day off from work then it just seems a bit pointless to me.
Here's the deal - I'm not unreasonable so I'd like to think we can come to some sort of an agreement before things get out of hand. Here are your options: If you get me a day off work within the next week I'll call the whole thing off. If not, you leave me no choice but to open up a can of "The Secret" on you and you do that at your peril.
Tuesday, February 19, 2008
The Diving Bell And The Butterfly
I saw a really great movie over the weekend called "The Diving Bell and the Butterfly". It's a true story about the editor of Elle magazine in France who suffered a stroke and only his brain and left eye escaped damage. The movie is based on his memoir which he wrote while in this paralyzed condition. I don't want to give anything away so I'll just say that it was one of the best movies I've seen in a long while and definitely worth seeing if you haven't already. It's in French so if you don't speak French it will be subtitled which shouldn't be a problem if you're literate.
If you're interested you can click here to check out the movie's website and see a trailer.
If you're interested you can click here to check out the movie's website and see a trailer.
We're Serious About Success
Sometimes I wish I had attended DeVry. Okay, I'm not entirely serious but some days I do wish that I worked at a company that employed at least a few DeVry graduates because I've heard that they're supposed to be pretty serious about success and we could use at least one person like that in our organization.
I had a meltdown of almost epic proportions today which I can only assume is mainly due to the serious lack of Devry alumni employed at my workplace. So here's the deal: About six months ago a new web based "tool" was implemented globally within our company. The purpose of this "tool" was to centralize a number of databases and functions that each region or country utilized and have one common system that everyone used. In theory this was a great idea since most companies had done this type of thing years ago. Unfortunately, like many other great "theoretical" ideas, it wasn't quite as great an idea when put into actual practice. When I got my first glance at this new program, I was reminded of the program I had created as the final project for the computer programming class I took during my second hear of high school. To be clear, I sucked big time at programming but this program was my Sistine Chapel. I mean this thing could like add up numbers and change colours and stuff. Trust me it was pretty impressive stuff which should give you an idea of how impressed I was with by this new program.
When they first unveiled this beast to our department, I commented to one of my coworkers that "I had no idea they had contracted this project out to a group of DeVry students for a school project." This was (not surprisingly) an ill advised comment as it turned out that his son had attended Devry back in its heyday. I obviously felt pretty bad about the situation for a couple of reasons. First, I just felt really bad that his son had actually attended DeVry and on top of that I felt bad for myself that I had somehow managed to find the father of the only person to actually attend Devry and had then proceeded to make the disparaging comment about the institute of higher learning. I found out that his son hadn't actually graduated from DeVry so I tried to explain that I actually had more respect for DeVry dropouts as opposed to graduates since at least the dropouts came to their senses at some point. Surprisingly this did little to appease my compadre.
Oh and in case you're thinking to yourself "I had no idea DeVry had a heyday?" Well you my friend are mistaken because it most definitely did. In case you missed out, it occured during the mid to late eighties when DeVry sensed that there was an untapped market of uneducated couch potatoes who were longing to be seriously successful. Sensing this need, they flooded television airwaves during shows like "Magnum P.I." with overproduced commericals that took aim at capturing the hearts and...um...wallets I guess of this demographic. In case you don't remember their commercials I've included one below.
So back to the reason for my breakdown: Last week in our daily departmental meeting, "Pong 2008" (as I like to refer to it) locked up and I couldn't get anything to work so I went to hit the refresh button which usually does the trick but instead of hitting the refresh button I ended up hitting what turned out to actually be the "DELETE THE ENTIRE DATABASE" button that was not labelled as such. Initially I didn't panic because I thought "What yahoo would design a program that would allow some peon like me to singlehandedly delete the entire department's database?" Then I remembered that the company had cancelled that DeVry recruiting drive back in the fall so it was anybody's guess which Coconut College alumnus had been charged with button labelling on this project.
After I realized that this wasn't a problem I could fix, I got on the blower with our onsite contact for these types of issues who put me in touch with our national contact who then informed me that the issue had to be addressed by someone at our global headquarters in Belgium since they managed the application. Ah, finally it all made sense. It was the Belgians who were to blame! Don't get me wrong, I'm a big fan of Belgians as long as they're simply responsible for making delicious beer and chocolate. However, putting them in charge of the company's supercomputers just didn't seem like the best way to play to their strengths. The kicker was that the guy who had told me to get in touch with Belgium also suggested that I should probably wait until the next day to call Belgium since they had probably left for the day. I looked at my watch which read 7:15AM and thought to myself "isn't it like 3:15PM in Belgium?" I realize that North Americans aren't exactly known for their aggressive pursuit of work-life balance but is it too much to ask for our Belgian friends to put in a full six hour work day? Answer: Yes . Then I realized that because of this guy's incompetence I'd have to come in at 6AM and put in a 12 hour work day just to get in touch with him during his five hour work day. Needless to say I wasn't impressed.
I did eventually manage to get in touch with my Belgian contact at some point between him throwing back cold ones and eating hot fudge sundaes. The problem was that even after getting in touch with him it ended up taking three days to get the thing restored again. I know it doesn't seem like a big deal but we basically rely on this thing for a number of our daily activities so it was quite inconvenient for everyone in the department. No one was more put out by the whole thing than me since I had to explain that I was the one who had singlehandedly deleted everything which wasn't so fun after about the tenth time. I finally lost it when I explained what had happened to one of my co-workers and he asked "Well how are we going to have our meetings without it?" To which I responded "I don't know Jim? Maybe we'll have to do like the pioneers did and use our brains for a change instead of relying on these supercomputers that the Belgians control." Obviously, grace under fire is not one of my giftings.
Anyway, I guess "all's well that ends well" right? Yeah that doesn't really apply here but I'm really working on not letting things like this get to me. And by "things like this" I mean people's total and utter incompetence. I was thinking that if I were to start my own insitution of higher learning I think my slogan would be "We're Mildly Serious About Mediocrity" . Sure it's not bold but at least I wouldn't be overselling anyone.
I had a meltdown of almost epic proportions today which I can only assume is mainly due to the serious lack of Devry alumni employed at my workplace. So here's the deal: About six months ago a new web based "tool" was implemented globally within our company. The purpose of this "tool" was to centralize a number of databases and functions that each region or country utilized and have one common system that everyone used. In theory this was a great idea since most companies had done this type of thing years ago. Unfortunately, like many other great "theoretical" ideas, it wasn't quite as great an idea when put into actual practice. When I got my first glance at this new program, I was reminded of the program I had created as the final project for the computer programming class I took during my second hear of high school. To be clear, I sucked big time at programming but this program was my Sistine Chapel. I mean this thing could like add up numbers and change colours and stuff. Trust me it was pretty impressive stuff which should give you an idea of how impressed I was with by this new program.
When they first unveiled this beast to our department, I commented to one of my coworkers that "I had no idea they had contracted this project out to a group of DeVry students for a school project." This was (not surprisingly) an ill advised comment as it turned out that his son had attended Devry back in its heyday. I obviously felt pretty bad about the situation for a couple of reasons. First, I just felt really bad that his son had actually attended DeVry and on top of that I felt bad for myself that I had somehow managed to find the father of the only person to actually attend Devry and had then proceeded to make the disparaging comment about the institute of higher learning. I found out that his son hadn't actually graduated from DeVry so I tried to explain that I actually had more respect for DeVry dropouts as opposed to graduates since at least the dropouts came to their senses at some point. Surprisingly this did little to appease my compadre.
Oh and in case you're thinking to yourself "I had no idea DeVry had a heyday?" Well you my friend are mistaken because it most definitely did. In case you missed out, it occured during the mid to late eighties when DeVry sensed that there was an untapped market of uneducated couch potatoes who were longing to be seriously successful. Sensing this need, they flooded television airwaves during shows like "Magnum P.I." with overproduced commericals that took aim at capturing the hearts and...um...wallets I guess of this demographic. In case you don't remember their commercials I've included one below.
So back to the reason for my breakdown: Last week in our daily departmental meeting, "Pong 2008" (as I like to refer to it) locked up and I couldn't get anything to work so I went to hit the refresh button which usually does the trick but instead of hitting the refresh button I ended up hitting what turned out to actually be the "DELETE THE ENTIRE DATABASE" button that was not labelled as such. Initially I didn't panic because I thought "What yahoo would design a program that would allow some peon like me to singlehandedly delete the entire department's database?" Then I remembered that the company had cancelled that DeVry recruiting drive back in the fall so it was anybody's guess which Coconut College alumnus had been charged with button labelling on this project.
After I realized that this wasn't a problem I could fix, I got on the blower with our onsite contact for these types of issues who put me in touch with our national contact who then informed me that the issue had to be addressed by someone at our global headquarters in Belgium since they managed the application. Ah, finally it all made sense. It was the Belgians who were to blame! Don't get me wrong, I'm a big fan of Belgians as long as they're simply responsible for making delicious beer and chocolate. However, putting them in charge of the company's supercomputers just didn't seem like the best way to play to their strengths. The kicker was that the guy who had told me to get in touch with Belgium also suggested that I should probably wait until the next day to call Belgium since they had probably left for the day. I looked at my watch which read 7:15AM and thought to myself "isn't it like 3:15PM in Belgium?" I realize that North Americans aren't exactly known for their aggressive pursuit of work-life balance but is it too much to ask for our Belgian friends to put in a full six hour work day? Answer: Yes . Then I realized that because of this guy's incompetence I'd have to come in at 6AM and put in a 12 hour work day just to get in touch with him during his five hour work day. Needless to say I wasn't impressed.
I did eventually manage to get in touch with my Belgian contact at some point between him throwing back cold ones and eating hot fudge sundaes. The problem was that even after getting in touch with him it ended up taking three days to get the thing restored again. I know it doesn't seem like a big deal but we basically rely on this thing for a number of our daily activities so it was quite inconvenient for everyone in the department. No one was more put out by the whole thing than me since I had to explain that I was the one who had singlehandedly deleted everything which wasn't so fun after about the tenth time. I finally lost it when I explained what had happened to one of my co-workers and he asked "Well how are we going to have our meetings without it?" To which I responded "I don't know Jim? Maybe we'll have to do like the pioneers did and use our brains for a change instead of relying on these supercomputers that the Belgians control." Obviously, grace under fire is not one of my giftings.
Anyway, I guess "all's well that ends well" right? Yeah that doesn't really apply here but I'm really working on not letting things like this get to me. And by "things like this" I mean people's total and utter incompetence. I was thinking that if I were to start my own insitution of higher learning I think my slogan would be "We're Mildly Serious About Mediocrity" . Sure it's not bold but at least I wouldn't be overselling anyone.
Wednesday, January 30, 2008
Who Moved My Gruyère?
Have you ever read the book "Who Moved My Cheese?" Yeah don't bother. I remember someone telling me years ago to read it. Definitely a half an hour I'd love to get back. The thing is, I'm a real cheese lover and I was under the impression that it was a suspense thriller about somebody actually trying to locate their missing cheese. Turns out it's some sort of a parable about how to deal with change in your life. Needless to say it was pretty disappointing. I really felt the author failed to scratch the surface with his analysis of the central query. I thought the question begging to be asked was "What kind of cheese was it exactly that was moved?" Because if we're talking about something along the lines of Velveeta then it's really not even worth asking the question. Now if we're talking about mascarpone or a nice aged cheddar then please get to the bottom of this immediately. I will say however that the one good thing about this book is that it's a testament to the fact that just about anybody out there could be a best selling author.
Speaking of cheese and deep meaning.... I tend to spend a lot of time in deep contemplative reflection about life's big questions. Like just a little while ago I had an extensive discussion with my sister about what our favourite cheeses were. Yeah, these are the questions that keep me up at night. For a lot of people this would seem like a frivolous question but the great thing about my sister is that she'll actually engage in a thoughtful discussion about them. The discussion got off to a rocky start when my sister stated that mozzarella was her cheese of choice. I think blindsided would be the best way to describe my feelings at the time. Are you kidding me? Mozzarella?? B-O-R-I-N-G! I strongly believe that Gruyère is unequivocally THE greatest cheese ever. Hands frigging down! It's just so versatile. Not only can you eat a block of it on its own (tasty but not recommended) but you can throw it in macaroni & cheese, on a salad, in a quiche or use it to make the world's greatest grilled cheese sandwich. Plus, it's named after a beautiful little town in Switzerland. Seriously, what's not to love about this cheese?
Anyway, she insisted that mozzarella was her choice which initially I didn't understand. I think the main reason I didn't share her opinion was because she has a lot more access to top quality fresh mozzarella than I do. If there's one thing I've learned about mozzarella it's that not all mozzarella cheeses are created equal. First of all, the dried up crap you buy in most north American supermarkets is a distant third cousin, twice removed from "real" mozzarella. So in that context I sort of had a bit more appreciation for her choice. Plus, the whole point I guess of these types of discussions is to open your mind to the possibilities outside of your own frame of reference. Oh and it's also important to make sure people know that under no circumstances is it okay to move your cheese. In fact, it's best to just not move things people are planning on eating. At least that was the sobering lesson I took away from the book "Who Moved My Hummus?: The Origins of the Israeli-Palestinian Conflict". Trust me, it's some scary stuff.
Speaking of cheese and deep meaning.... I tend to spend a lot of time in deep contemplative reflection about life's big questions. Like just a little while ago I had an extensive discussion with my sister about what our favourite cheeses were. Yeah, these are the questions that keep me up at night. For a lot of people this would seem like a frivolous question but the great thing about my sister is that she'll actually engage in a thoughtful discussion about them. The discussion got off to a rocky start when my sister stated that mozzarella was her cheese of choice. I think blindsided would be the best way to describe my feelings at the time. Are you kidding me? Mozzarella?? B-O-R-I-N-G! I strongly believe that Gruyère is unequivocally THE greatest cheese ever. Hands frigging down! It's just so versatile. Not only can you eat a block of it on its own (tasty but not recommended) but you can throw it in macaroni & cheese, on a salad, in a quiche or use it to make the world's greatest grilled cheese sandwich. Plus, it's named after a beautiful little town in Switzerland. Seriously, what's not to love about this cheese?
Anyway, she insisted that mozzarella was her choice which initially I didn't understand. I think the main reason I didn't share her opinion was because she has a lot more access to top quality fresh mozzarella than I do. If there's one thing I've learned about mozzarella it's that not all mozzarella cheeses are created equal. First of all, the dried up crap you buy in most north American supermarkets is a distant third cousin, twice removed from "real" mozzarella. So in that context I sort of had a bit more appreciation for her choice. Plus, the whole point I guess of these types of discussions is to open your mind to the possibilities outside of your own frame of reference. Oh and it's also important to make sure people know that under no circumstances is it okay to move your cheese. In fact, it's best to just not move things people are planning on eating. At least that was the sobering lesson I took away from the book "Who Moved My Hummus?: The Origins of the Israeli-Palestinian Conflict". Trust me, it's some scary stuff.
Friday, January 18, 2008
He's Cuckoo & Not for Cocoa Puffs
Have you seen that video of Tom Cruise talking about scientology that's been circulating around the interwebs? I actually didn't really have much desire to see it since I was already pretty sure he was crazy and I didn't need anymore proof. Well yesterday I saw a spoof of the original that was pretty funny. They basically interject clips of Will Smith into the original and make it look like Tom is trying to convert Will to scientology. You can see the video below.
After I saw the spoof, I was kind of curious to see the original. I've never really understood scientology but I just figured it was because I'm not really a science fiction fan. The thing is, I don't like to mock or judge people based on their religious beliefs. Well technically, I actually don't mind doing that but I just try not to do it in a public forum. The thing is, there are a lot of kooky "religions" out there but it just seems like scientology really takes the cake. After watching Tom wax eloquent, my intial thoughts were confirmed. Here are a few of my favourite excerpts followed by what I was thinking in my head when he said them:
A "scientologist has the ability to create new and better realities and improve conditions"
How's about you just start by making new and better movies. You haven't had a decent movie in like three years.
"Being a scientologist, when you drive by an accident it's not like anyone else. You drive past and you know you have to do something about it because you're the only one who can help"
Unless you have the jaws of life in your car, I'm not so sure you're the only person I'd want on the scene if I'm mangled in a car wreck. That's just me though.
"We are the authorities on the mind. We can bring peace and unite cultures."
Tom, I don't want to bring up what I can only imagine is a sensitive subject but if you can actually bring peace and unity how comes you got deevorced? At the very least, you must have read Nicole's mind and seen it coming right? And not to put too fine a point on this but if you are able to bring peace and unity, why don't you g'head and put those invaluable skills to work. There's a little place called the middle east that could probably use a hand if you've got the market cornered on peacemaking.
After I saw the spoof, I was kind of curious to see the original. I've never really understood scientology but I just figured it was because I'm not really a science fiction fan. The thing is, I don't like to mock or judge people based on their religious beliefs. Well technically, I actually don't mind doing that but I just try not to do it in a public forum. The thing is, there are a lot of kooky "religions" out there but it just seems like scientology really takes the cake. After watching Tom wax eloquent, my intial thoughts were confirmed. Here are a few of my favourite excerpts followed by what I was thinking in my head when he said them:
A "scientologist has the ability to create new and better realities and improve conditions"
How's about you just start by making new and better movies. You haven't had a decent movie in like three years.
"Being a scientologist, when you drive by an accident it's not like anyone else. You drive past and you know you have to do something about it because you're the only one who can help"
Unless you have the jaws of life in your car, I'm not so sure you're the only person I'd want on the scene if I'm mangled in a car wreck. That's just me though.
"We are the authorities on the mind. We can bring peace and unite cultures."
Tom, I don't want to bring up what I can only imagine is a sensitive subject but if you can actually bring peace and unity how comes you got deevorced? At the very least, you must have read Nicole's mind and seen it coming right? And not to put too fine a point on this but if you are able to bring peace and unity, why don't you g'head and put those invaluable skills to work. There's a little place called the middle east that could probably use a hand if you've got the market cornered on peacemaking.
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