No Names No Pack Drill
I never really mentioned the exceptional turnout on Saturday night. It was fun and E@L was greatly happy to see everybody there, and as MM pointed out, we hit a record of 5 (five, count 'em) people! Me, MM, Indy, VPS and Valkyrie (the vampire/night-owl who needed lunch at 1 am!)
We caught up with my old mate Bruce later on at the taxi-queue after we left Hideout with Val, and he and Indy ventured on to the 4FoW. Read all about it. You probably already have.
Been reading a lot of VPS's blog (annoying her with comments, no doubt, but not stalking!) and have decided that she has an exceptionally fine writing style and deserves a huge readership. That might cheer her up, at least! Morose (word of the week), young-girl-moody, pissed at just about everything, in a sort of goth style, if I can say that in a nice way. Reminds me of someone - when I think of I'll let you know. OK, yes I am a fan of Leonard Cohen and Staind and Nick Cave and other moody music, etc... Not only but sometimes. (p.s. She just needs to develop the habit of putting a space (old DTP'er moi, I put two) after each full stop for enhanced readability.)
E@L himself has been feeling a bit blogged out, deblogerated, exblogausted, unblogspired, and otherwise intellectually unenblogaged.
What with the unheard of reception of his last few posts (comment-wise, not necessarily a viral-blog-hits-rate explosion) E@L is also feeling a tad too much responsibility for maybe prompting others get all depressed and or depressing and or aggressive! Some other readers are obviously and luckily impervious and breezed right through the week on wings of luscious frivolity.
But being responsible for other's actions and opinions is not, you might be surprised, one of E@L's goals in life. He'd rather argue with you for hours over multiple cups of wine and glasses of Melbourne-style lattè, and finally agree to disagree at the end than have you capitulate and accept his half-arsed, half-understood, half researched, half-reasoned opinions. That way the
argument debate conversation could continue another time. (He'd only rarely capitulate himself, except through exhaustion.)
This state of mind had a long history. He remembers, back when he was supremely pissed off with his choice of career, showing someone around on Careers Night. Radiography, skittering around like a blue-arsed fly to the mercurial whims of some crazy personality-free-zone Radiologist [has anyone seen Green Room - the crazy Dr there is a Radiologist and obviously modeled on people from E@L's training hospital] as you poise injured and ill people into painful and awkward postions, pouring weird high atomic number fluids up their arses and urethras, making them drink vile chalk drinks, etc... All at the manic directions of said grumpy Radiologist who hated the human race in general and E@L in particular.
So, Careers Night, there was one guy from E@L's old school who wanted to be shown around. He was really keen on this radiography caper, knew it was easy to get into (it was then - E@L had practically failed HSC), knew the pay was reasonable, and felt like it would contribute to the greater sum of human happiness, blah blah. So E@L gave him the take on the whole schemmozle. It was hell. You were treated as an idiot by the Radiologists. You got no respect from the other hospital staff. The pay was awful until you qualified. There was no career structure. OK you'd have a job for life - whoever heard of anyone getting sacked from a public hospital? - but it was a life of servitude and under-appreciation. Watching his face dissolve from eager anticipation slowly into fearful dread was a revelation to E@L, in retrospect. He had read all about this job, was all fired up, really decided this was the career for him, was super-interested. As E@L talked him down, deflating his balloon with a hundred pricks, it was like watching the Hindenberg sink into its hydrogen fueled tower of flames. Oh the humanity draining from this guys eyes. He left, and took up accountancy and is now keeping the books for a small pet-shop in Toronto and going to a strip joint called Exotica every night...
E@L felt terrible next day. He feels terrible now.
E@L also did not enjoy making decisions about the trainees under him. (OK by this time he had become caught up in the thrills and spills of Ultrasound and left dull old Radiography for the dead technology it... might never be actually. Who should pass, who should fail? None shall pass, says the Black Night. Pass All Fail All, says Giles Goatboy. Who shall be the next student to fail to succeed? It's up to you E@L, to destroy or makes these wide-eyed kids' lives... Plus there was the administration side. How should we structure the department, rearrange the bookings, schedule the patients? What do with this urgent patient? Should the first year student REALLY be doing that high risk pregnancy?
AAaaaarrggghhhh!! Decisions, responsibilities. Influence. Not E@L's cup of tea, so after 6 of stress years he left.
Frying pan > Fire. But that's another story.
Because of course, words have a power. Otherwise, why speak? Spoken words. The verbal expiration can provoke cerebral inspiration. The wind through Nepalese prayer flags takes those thoughts as if they were continually being spoken. Written words in thought bubbles floating to the gods, changing man's destiny.
So many writers have stopped writing because of this uncalled for responsibility - read this book
E@L also suffers from "perfectionism" he has discovered in a rare moment of correct self-analysis. He has self-diagnosed himself with this trait - failure-to-start for fear-of-failure at the end. If it's not going to be perfect, why bother? Thoughts of that nature paralyze E@L's actions in many aspects of his life. Relationships for one. Writing - SERIOUS writing, not this blog crap - for another.
On a date, God forbid E@L should ever have a date, he channels the defeatism of Woody Allen in Play it Again Sam. Allen used Groucho Marx's old self-loathing anti-semitic joke - "I wouldn't want to belong to any club that would have ME for a member!" - to great effect in this classic movie. E@L thinks like that all time, he can't help himself; he blocks up, thinking about things that way too far down the track... It's just not healthy. Procrastination, theif of success. More on this issue another time.
E@L has a mate who has been elevated to a minor management position in his company. He is having trouble. He didn't really want this position, it just happened. Only five people under him and he has to get them to do what he wants, get them to do things his way, or so he thinks. Because he has had no training in supervision and/or people management of course. How to deal with other people's goals, work styles and techniques? It's such a small team, it should just be common sense, right? But fuck no, it's a nightmare, because other people think differently, work differently, work for different reasons and motivational drives, see things differently, have different personalities. One set of instructions does not do for all.
"But I just want the fucking numbers on time, so I can do MY job!"
Hey, news flash - they don't give a fuck about YOUR job. If YOU get sacked, they'll just have someone else yelling at them.
"So I am screaming down the phone, 'just do what I tell you'. " He is forced to yell at them when nothing seems to be happening on time.
He is frustrated because he was not really trained or even prepared to be in a position of control over other people, so he didn't know what to do other than try to get them to do things the way he did them. He is a salesman, not a boss. Obviously.
But that is how companies grow. Pushing people up before they are ready, prepared or even willing. Up to their level of frustration, incompetence and reluctance. The old myth of management - that it exists. And that is how companies fail as well.
The truth seems to be that some people can handle this "advancement" naturally. They thrive on getting people to work for them. And sacking them if they don't! The cunts!
And we joked, some people, no names no pack-drill, are like Patrick Hernandez from the 70's: "Born, born, born -- born to be a cunt."
Brought to you by E@L Management Consultancy Inc.
Our Motto: All Your Answers Over Only a Few Beers.
p.s. more light bloggin ahead. In India for the weekend.
OTHER MONKEYS SAID
That Bruce is a stand up guy for leading me with such authoritive knowledge into what can only be described as a Temple of Doom. If you see him give him my thanks.
melbourne lattes rock. :)
I know exactly what your friend is going through, acting like a cunt and trying to get away with it. It's taken years for me to get the hang of it but now I am happy to share my expertise with you and invite you E@L, to join my FOUR MILLION FINGERS campaign. It's time.
I shall henceforth put a space after my full stops. See? *grin*
Bruce is great guy, true.
A Pellegrinis latte, oh so true.
Time for the finger, true.
VPS, thank you.
Temple of Doom? Sounds familiar!
Shall think of you as I partake a latte tomorrow. That's if I don't drown in my mucous overnight!! Played at the Barley Corn Hotel last (Sat.) night. Three full sets, well received by the punters we brought with us (who weren't getting a drink unless they cheered) but at the end I had no voice (I know not one to begin with) and a strange pain in the left side of my chest on deep inspiration (the breathing sort, I've given up the other type).
Hope India was........India.
There is a simple rule for team leaders, managers, supervisors etcetera.
I f your staff don't take you out for a drink, sack them.
Oh and Petrick Hernadnez rocks. Well he did 20 yearsy ago! Now I am not sure if it is nostalgia or crap.