we suck young blood

I was reading Tim Duncan's bio on a site, and it inspired me to, along with my overwhelming sense of cynicism on this Friday of joy and gladness (only 5 days of work left! Exciting!) write something brutally true and yet over the top exaggerated. and that would be how my institution eats its young.

Not the visiting young, but the new employees. I don't know if this is the case in the real world with real money dollar jobs, but I have seen a lot of super-swift hire-quit actions go down here. Let me explain how somehow, a renowned institution of 400+ employees has built a management system that contrives to suck the souls out of people.

Scenario 1: The impossible situation
There is one senior manager here (and by here, I mean collecting a fat paycheck) who actually lives in New York and is getting her doctorate. I'm not sure how that works. Who okayed this? I mean, what person in there right mind said, 'ah yes Barbie, we should pay her a lot and make her supervisor of 15 people on site, but pay for her to live far away and come to town whenever she wants'? I guess it could work, if she was a stellar manager/communicator, but here no one is a stellar communicator, and Barbie is worst than most.

A testament to this is the way that she can't keep people working for here for any long period of time. New hires are not hired/interviewed by her, so they are never forewarned of her *&*#*&-ness. Barbie will then roll into the scene at her leisure, and about 50% of the time, after the visit we are looking for a new hire. The swiftest hire-quit process I saw was within 24 hours of Barbie's landing at SFO. I am not sure if this is her record. I feel a little bad. The only ones who make it are just like her. It's an impossible situation for people who do not want to become conniving.

Scenario 2: Failure to drink the kool-aid
This is common, when the person hired has been a little lured in by our "mission" and "vision." Then they get in and take a good scope around and see that those were some really awesome pretty-lies we construct in order to not hate ourselves at the end of the day. Many people cut and run at this point. A few stick around, and some get so caught up in the kool-aid that they ask to franchise the stuff so they can peddle it to other unsuspecting folk.

An example of this can be seen, ironically, in our recruiter. He started in October. His last day is Wednesday. Which is too bad for Earnesto, because it means the person he was counting on to find my replacement will not be there. Which kind of means it will be a long time before there is a replacement. Oops!

Scenario 3: They saw behind the curtain
Last year for Camille's birthday, we, plus Renaldo, went to lunch. This was still when Renaldo was having a death-crush on Camille, and as part of his awkward ritual mating dance he had the Hopes & Dreams talk. Way too early in the wooing, buddy. No wonder you failed. But even at the time it was apparent that of the three of us, I was a #2, and they were going to either be lifers or have a #3 moment sometime soon. hopes and dreams don't make it very long here.

Think about it in these terms: Under the guise of 'creative engines,' the place sucks hopes and dreams up and then uses them to power the institution's Project Negative Value. I envision the movement to be similar to that of the beast in Yeats' poem "The Second Coming," slouching towards the target.

When people see past the eyewash and the kool-aid, what they basically see is the machine room of the Hopes & Dreams giant vacuum, and scales fall from eyes quickly. This is how we lose the most promising talent. They go and say, hey, if there is going to be a wizard behind the curtain, it should be something that grants wishes, or at least looks like Cary Grant, and not something that will eventually see me a dried up old bag with no additional training. And then they leave (usually not until I have told them something embarrassing about myself; they have phenomenal interrogation skills).

i got a dollar (and happy birthday)

In the mail today, someone who wanted our business sent us a dollar. I like to think of it as them sending me a dollar. Either way, I'm keeping it. Want shall I do with my dollar, all crisp and new? Maybe I'll splurge and spend it all at the vending machine. Maybe I'll go to the Dollar Store. Maybe I'll fold it into a ring and propose to the next hot guy I meet.

Or . . .
Maybe I'll use it to start the slush fund to found my crime syndicate
Maybe I'll use it bribe a corrupt official
Maybe I'll keep it as a souvenir of my days here
Maybe use it to give someone a paper cut
Or maybe I'll put it in my purse and use it to tip the next delivery person.

HAPPY BIRTHDAY DAVEY G!!!! YOU"RE MY FAVORITE DAVE EVER!! I hope life and the wife are treating your well in Austin.

Maybe I'll use my dollar to buy awesome blue shoes like the ones that Davey G. used to wear. Yep, maybe that's what I will do.

plotting a karaoke ambush

In my position at this institution, I have been in the position to plan many a going-away "parties." That is put in quotes because sometimes it is a party, sometimes a funeral, sometimes just a going through the motions, and sometimes, like with good-old Battleaxe, it was a chance to kick 'em while they're down/dance on grave. Next up is Marie's farewell: Beer and oysters on the beach. I applaud her simple vision, but can't help but think of the irony that she wants to feed a bunch of people oysters after an oil spill. Neither of the above items really appeals to me, yet I have to plan. It's proving to be a bit sticky, but I will contrive.

But it begs the question: Who will plan my party? Marie will be gone. Earnesto doesn't do details. That is the extent of my lauded department. Conclusion, I will plan my party.

This simultaneously sucks and has it's benefits. Foremost amongst the benefits is that I will allow myself to do whatever is in my imagination. I was talking to the head of HR about it, and she said it sounded pretty awesome. Complete Carte Blanche.

So when I come up with a devilishly good idea(with my creative engines) (and I have) like making it a karaoke party, and asking Earnesto to sing a song for my final request, I will not shoot my idea down. I will say instead, "Self, that sounds like a capital idea, and well within the budget I have established for this party." And Then I will say "Self, thanks for understanding what I am trying to envision." Fabulous. Finally, I get to plot my karaoke ambush.

As for songs that I will ask for Earnesto to sing, I will take written submissions. Although I would love to have it be something like "Total Eclipse of the Heart." Or something by Debbie Harry or Madonna. Or Barry Manilow. There are just so many ways to be cruel on this one.

Welcome to the Twilight Zone

Things have been a little strange around here lately. I have fleetingly been experiencing something that the astute reader might realize is highly unlikely, job satisfaction. So unprecedented is this state that it has momentarily and profoundly shaken my patterns of usual behaviour. But more on that Later, let's just examine why it is so marvelous that I might actually want to go to work this week.

Why it is Crazy

a) I have actually been working on Project Negative Value. It isn't something that usually brings me great levels of joy on a usual basis. Actually, usually discussion of this project makes me want to Sylvia Plath myself (stick my head in the oven, not read The Bell Jar). It still sort of does. But this time I was doing work that I secretly hope will help derail the futility.

b) I have had to go to MEETINGS OF DOOM where there was lots of yelling and pointed questions and when we weren't meeting, we were prepping materials for the next meeting, which would commence as soon as the latest edit was done.

c) I had no time to do a Pirate quiz or virtual yahtzee. Having to work at work usually sucks.

Why I enjoyed it

a) I was able to do analysis. Marie is probably going to catch it from letting me take a break from my regular scheduling duties (from which I was already on enforced hiatus because there are only so many hours you can schedule). But she asked me to do what I have been university trained to do: analyze. And it involved research. My toes are curling at the very thought.

b) I was treated as an expert. I was all of the sudden a trusted source of information, someone who had answers, or if I didn't have them right then, I could get them. My initiatives were treated as insight the would have otherwise been unable to obtain. It doesn't matter that I am not an expert and anyone with half a brain and internet access could have collected the same information, and anyone with a working knowledge of, and a working calculator could have done it.

c) I was praised. Relying on someone and thanking them are two different things entirely, which is something I do not think that Earnesto has yet learned.

d) A little more indicative of my character flaws, I really enjoyed being part of something that throws a spanner into Earnesto's pie-in-the-sky dreaming. As my roommate has frequently said, I really f@#$% his s#$% up.

More on this later

Name that Buzz Word

For purely archival and amusing purposes, I thought I would share with you the notes I took during the All-Staff meeting that took place on Friday. (I admit to exchanging snarky notes with my colleague who is a cynic/internet dater. Are the two things compatible?)

• Oh, program plans: Evolutionary, not revolutionary. Wonder how long it took him to think of that.
• Name some names! Name Names! Dish!
• I bet you serious money that he says "Creative Engines" (he did, twice, along with the new precious derivative, Creative Engineering)
• Labor lending kept through the next budget year, or until we bring in someone else who can come up with a replacement plan. Maybe forever.
• Management Team: Determines institutional priorities, strategy, responsible for budget reconciliation, new policy APPROVAL, and Delegated Ad-Hoc Decision Making (Earnesto loves the phrase Ad-Hoc. I bet he is dying to work in quid pro quo and other handy Latin.)
• He wants to be the Scientific Godfather!
  
• Guideline relationship (this just reminds me of a story I heard when some rock star wanted to sleep with an under aged girl, so he talked her parents into making him her guardian, and legalizing the whole thing, because of course he approved the sex. That's what the guideline relationship equates, in my mind)
• Pan-Institutional
• Audience Oriented

One hour, One makeover of an entire major organization, and one serious waste of time.

That's Hugh to you, part 1

On the final leg of my morning commute, I was seated on the shuttle, which was stopped due to the MUNI bus blocking us in temporarily, when Hugh came pounding on the door like a man being chased by the very hounds of hell. Hugh was referenced in an earlier post about creative engines as the principle perpetuator of the term.

Hugh is not his name, as you might imagine, I try to avoid libel charges in all my hobbies and timekills. But thanks to his tremendously skilled floppy hair, it is the name he will be known on the records of this blog. As a senior staff member, he is someone I interact with on a fairly regular basis. He reminds me of a puppy, one who, when he gets really excited, wets himself. Not that Hugh does. But when in comes to boyish belief structures and faith, he wins the Oscar.

Anyway, to continue the story, Hugh loped onto the bus with his usually irrepressible bounce. He gave me a big goofy smile, and I commented on his ability to make everything a production. Then I retreated behind the sonic wall of my ipod. Not a wonderful story. But what I wanted to comment on was that his hair seems to have regained its previous aggressive flop.

Because there is a difference between Hugh's floppy follicles and those of the average fellow. Hugh's hair seems to be able to convey his overall emotional state. Usually it has a jauntiness to it. However, in March - May his hair flopped feebly, telegraphing his distress at being confronted with the cruel reality that lay behind his pet project at work. The project willed be referred to as Negative Value to maintain confidentiality for work purposes.

As the name indicates, the reality behind Project Negative Value was not a friendly one, and in response to that Hugh's hair deflated into a lifeless rag. He also turned this funny gray/ashen hue that made me wonder if I needed to call in paramedics during some of the Meetings of DOOM.

We are please to report that now, both Hair and Hugh are doing well. (Volumizing Gel?)

And What, pray tell, is a creative Engine?

Men, I understand, in the general way of things are pretty big into engines. I know this is a sweepingly broad statement that fails to account for the men who know nothing about engines and the women who love the things. But perhaps this generality explains the incredibly meteoric rise in the company catchphrase "Creative Engines" and its variant, "Engines of Creativity."

What is a Creative Engine? I had the chance to ask the originator of the phrase, or the perpetuator. Fortunately, or unfortunately, he was drunk at the time, and all he could say was things like 'shops,' 'ideas,' and 'groovy.' Not very illuminating.

My thought is it is a phrase designed to be somehow inspirational and yet still vague enough to allow them to not know what they are doing or commit them to something solid. And I hate the term. It makes us sound life we are all at work driving leopard print big rigs or something, or some crazy train.

I made that point (unwisely) to the co-perpetuator of the term, and oh, he has yet to forgive me. Imagine an executive huffing about how I don't grasp the nuances of the term. He wouldn't share those nuances. That's super-top-secret. That's on a need-to-know basis, and apparently, NO ONE needs to know.

I just wish that I had some pictures of potential creative engines.