Tag Archives: priorities

Just the parts you like…

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I’m about to break ranks with Fox News, and you know that gives me a slightly queazy feeling on the inside. Still, I’ve made a habit of calling a spade a spade with everything else that ends up on my mind, so it’s only fair to call out your friends when they’re being asshats too. For the last six months or so, Fox News commentators have been screaming for the administration to cut government spending… except for Defense. And the FAA. And Homeland Security. And Border Patrol. Look, I’m a registered republican and draw a salary from one of the departments that you’re supporting, so I have a vested interested in being a defense sector booster but I know well and good there’s plenty of room to cut if it’s done smartly (i.e. not through an across the board cut as currently provided for by law and certainly not just by lopping off a work day every week for the next six months).

For the last two days, though, where Fox has decided to make a stand is on the subject of White House tours. Seriously? Guided tours of the White House are apparently so vital to the long term health and welfare of the republic that they should be included on the list of items to be fully funded… It’s so important that it ranks right up along with funding the troops still fighting in Afganistan. You have got to be shitting me, Fox.

Oh, you say, it only saves $75,000 a week. It’s a drop in the spending bucket. And you’re right. It’s one drop. A drop that over the six months of this years round of sequestration would save $1.65M of the $24M you say the White House must cut from their budget. That one drop is a pretty good start.

Sorry folks, but the need to cut spending isn’t about what programs you like, or I like, or the sixth grade class from East Pignuckle, Louisiana likes. It’s about reducing spending in accordance with the laws that Congress passes and the president signed into law. If it’s a bad law, it’s only bad because that’s the way some jackwagon staffer on the Hill wrote it.

I’ll be the first to tell you that the way sequestration was written, it’s just about the dumbest piece of legislation I’ve ever personally seen become law of the land. But the national consensus was that we want to reduce spending. Guess what? That means some of the things that people like just aren’t going to get done anymore. You wanted smaller government? Just remember that smaller government looks like fewer tours, fewer soldiers, slower refund processing, and generally less of everything we’ve become accustomed to over the last 60 years. If you don’t like what it looks like now that smaller government is here, push to change the law, don’t just sit around bitching about what you’ve lost. The future is about priorities and if you’re not speaking up for yours, someone else will be happy to let their voice be heard.

Nothing to show…

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Ever have one of those days where sit down at quarter after seven and then suddenly look up and realize it’s half past three? Yeah. The kind of day that feels like it’s over before it ever got started. I hate days like that. I want to know where my time is going instead of just having it lost into the ether. Maybe if I had something to show for it, I wouldn’t be quite so bothered. At a minimum I’d like to be able to at least tick off one or two of the things on the day’s list of things to do. Some days you don’t even get that small pleasure. Today was one of those days. I know I got “stuff” done, but I can’t quite shake the feeling that I’m standing around, looking vaguely confused, and wondering WTF just happened.

Voyeuristic tendencies…

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As a kid in Western Maryland, I was no stranger to a heavy duty snowfall. In the winter of 1996 I seem to vaguely remember a storm dropped around three feet of the stuff that closed schools for a week and let me drive my 4-wheeler all over town for shits and grins. What I don’t remember is any television station shifting to wall-to-wall coverage of frozen precipitation falling from the skies for the duration of the storm. Which leads me to wonder, in my most curmudgeonly way, is that a new thing that they’re doing? We barely had CNN back then when dinosaurs roamed the earth. And honestly, I think widely available cable television had only been ‘down the Crick’ for less than a decade. Maybe they did cover it and I was too busy playing in the snow to notice it, but I have a sneaking suspicion that we just didn’t make such a big deal out of it.

It’s snowing. We know more or less when it’s going to end. When it does, there will be plows and shoveling and life will get back to some semblance of normal in about 24 hours. I’m not sure what else you really need to know when you can look out your window and be at least as well informed as the local weather guy. I guess I’m just missing the part where it’s really a national Big Deal. Unless it’s about driving up ratings by appealing to America’s insatiable voyeuristic tendencies. In that case, I understand completely.

What Annoys Jeff this Week?

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1. If you’re going to run a restaurant equipped with a drive through, I’m going to go ahead and recommend that you not post a sign on the speaker box that says anything like “D-T is closed, please visit the lobby”. Umm… no. I don’t think I will. I wouldn’t have been in the drive through for breakfast if I weren’t already in a hurry to get somewhere else. Let’s face it, if I wanted to get out of the truck, walk inside, and have a meal, I wouldn’t be looking at fast food options. This is America, by God and if I can’t get food through the window of my truck from you, I’m going to drive my lazy ass next door to Burger King. Next time. Because if I don’t have the time to visit your lobby, I definitely don’t have time to sit in two drive through lines in the same morning. I didn’t want your tasty cheese filled McBreakfast Burrito anyway.

2. I know weather prediction is something akin to turning base metal into gold, but when you spend the better part of a day talking about the impending impact of “an Alberta clipper overlaying the area and bringing 1-2 inches of snow,” it only stands to reason that at some point during the night some actual snow might fall at some point during your forecast window. Here’s a helpful hint from your kindly Uncle Jeff… if you walk outside after sunset, look up, and see starts twinkling in the interstellar distance, it’s bloody well not snowing.

3. Picture it, Friday, 3:51 PM. At what point does it go through your head that “hey, this would be a great time to try to get something done.” Here’s a news flash Poindexter, it isn’t. Everyone’s brain is disengaged and they’ve already got one foot out the door. Sure, no one will say that out loud, but that’s what everyone whose inbox “pings” at 3:51 on a Friday is thinking to themselves when it happens. Actually, what they’re thinking isn’t fit to print in this nice, family oriented part of the internet. Rest assured, though Mr. Wants to Get One Last Thing Done on Friday, everyone thinks you’re an asshat.

A face in the crowd (and better off for it)…

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The best part of just being a face in the crowd is that you get to spend a lot of time watching people in power, whether that be the legitimate power of elected office or the almost completely fictitious power that resides in a fancy sounding title. The most common denominator that I’ve observed so far is simple – the more powerful the individual being observed, the less control they have over their own lives. The ones with real power, the ones who are minor princes of the universe, seem to have their days scripted, their movements controlled, and have barely a spare minute to do so much as scratch their own arse.

It’s hard to believe, but a younger, more ambitious version of me once thought that sounded like an ideal way to spend a career… long flights, clamoring between meetings, and generally being indispensible. With a third of my career in the rear view, I can honestly say that the shine is well off that idea. These days, the last place I want to find myself is at the center of the hive. The older I get, the less inclined I am to let other people dictate my schedule or to cede control over any portion of my life. My one concession is the 40-hours a week that I spend working for wages… and that’s only grudgingly because I like eating and having a roof over my head.

I’m sure it’s a fine way to live and all, but for me, having the maximum amount of personal control over who I interact with, what I do, and when I do it is pretty damned important. On balance, short of being named absolute monarch of a small tropical island, I’m not sure that’s something I’d want to give up – especially not for something as temporal as a spiffy sounding title and not much else.

Liberal leave…

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Vast swaths of the federal government operated with a “liberal leave” policy in place today. Loosely translated, this policy says “Travel conditions may or may not be dangerous this morning so instead of us actually making a decision to be open or closed, we’re going to let every individual go ahead and flip a coin to decide whether they want to work today or not.” I don’t have any particular heartburn with them using this approach on days when the weather is decidedly questionable in the early morning hours.

Rest assured, if at any time I realistically thought my life was endangered by the commute, I’d be the first to throw in the towel and head back to the house. As much as I would have enjoyed a Monday spent hanging around the house drinking coffee, I just wasn’t so in love with the idea that I wanted to use up a day of my own annual leave to make it happen. What I really wanted was for Uncle Sugar to go ahead and give me another day free of charge. Let’s be honest, it’s going to have to be a blizzard of epic proportions before I’m willing to say it’s so bad out there that I want to burn off a day of precious, precious vacation time… and usually that’s when Uncle ends up making the “right” call anyway and letting everyone stay home.

As nice as cooling my heels for an impromptu four-day weekend would have been, I’m too much of a leave hoarder to make it happen today… but don’t think for a second that I didn’t regret that decision when I was sitting at my desk looking at a metric ton of new emails that had been piling up since Thursday afternoon, the flashing “voicemail” light on my phone, and a line of people that had things that needed discussing. In retrospect, maybe I should have been a little more liberal with my leave after all, but that’s just another day of putting off the inevitable.

Photograph…

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In one part of our building there’s a long hall with several dozen historic pictures that appear to be taken sometime between or shortly following the World Wars. I know they’re supposed to instill a sense of pride and speak to an enduring legacy, but that’s not what struck me about them today. Walking past those pictures this morning it suddenly hit me that they all have one thing in common – Those people staring back at us from the other side of archival quality print are all dead, deceased, gone to meet their maker, and singing with the choir invisible.

I’m sure that every one of them did great and wonderful things or were very important in some way, but I’d be willing to stake real money that not one person in a thousand could tell me who they were or what they did. Maybe that’s morbid, but it’s a pretty stark reminder, just when I needed it, that some future hardworking and dedicated employee isn’t going to have a clue who we were or why our picture is hanging on some wall looking back at them. Sure, everything we’re doing every day seems awfully important, but in 100 years, you’ll be a luck one if someone is even using your picture as an office decoration. I’m not so far gone down the path of fatalism that I’m willing to concede that nothing we do day-to-day really matters, but sometimes it’s healthy to let nameless faces from the past remind us not to take it all so damned seriously. Chalk that up to stupid lessons I wish I’d have learned years ago.

Ignorant bliss…

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If you stick around any place long enough, you’re going to see history repeat itself over… and over… and over. After almost a decade of professional service to the United States, I can honestly tell you that there’s not much left that really surprises me or makes me nervous. There is one thing, though, that to this day makes the hairs on the back of my neck stand up and fills me with the ominous feeling that something ridiculous is about to happen. It’s not a warning light that flashes “launch detected” or even the thought of getting handed my walking papers if Congress doesn’t get its act together. Those are realities you just sort of things you learn to live with along the way.

The thing that strikes fear into my very heart is the sound of a phone ringing at 3:55 on a Friday afternoon. Nothing, absolutely nothing, good happens at 3:55 on Friday afternoons. Like a call in the middle of the night, it is never, ever good news. More often than not it’s someone who has made a bad decision somewhere along the line and is flailing desperately in an effort to find someone else to share their misery. Make no mistake, if you’re foolish enough to pick up that ringing phone, you’re going to become the someone in question. And your life is going to get very stupid, very quickly.

Sure, I know everyone is a selfless and dedicated employee who doesn’t mind having the first moments of their weekend spent trying to unravel someone else’s problem, but look, take it from me, the best thing you can do when you hear the phone ring at 3:55 on a Friday afternoon is just hum a happy tune and walk away. By the time you know what the problem really is, whoever you need to talk to in order to get it fixed will have gone home for the weekend anyway. Rest assured, whatever was stupid and broken on Friday afternoon will be waiting for you on Monday morning. It will still be broken and stupid, but at least you’ve bought yourself a full weekend of ignorant bliss.

Mad props…

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I’m going to level with you. I have no earthly idea how you people with a wife/husband and an assortment of kids get through your day. It’s Friday afternoon and I don’t mind telling you that I’m flat out exhausted by the week when it rolls to a close. I’m exhausted from the sheer volume of human interaction that it takes to get through the day. Being an introvert, every one of those interactions requires a tremendous amount of energy to fight my natural instinct towards keeping everything a nice respectable distance. You’re just going to have to take my word for it when I say it’s exhausting in its own right, which brings me back around to the point of this discussion.

I’m almost positive I’ve said this before, but my hat’s off to you guys out there who get home and then turn around and fill the night with soccer practice, dance rehearsal, tutoring, going to the mall, or whatever the case may be. How you keep up with it is quite simply beyond me. If I don’t have those 4-5 hours between work and sleep to block out the world and refocus, I’m told I have the disposition of an angry badger… and that’s not fun for anyone involved. I suppose we all do what whatever we have to based on the situation we’re in, but in this case the only thought I can offer is “better you than me.” Seriously. I have an deep, yet purely academic appreciation for what you do, but I’m so glad it’s not on my agenda that the English language doesn’t have an appropriate way to describe it. Keep up the good work.

Now if you’ll pardon me, it’s time for a glass of wine and a good book so I can marshal my energy for dealing with the world tomorrow morning.

I am the 99%… and I’m ok with that…

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A few months ago the world was making a big stink about the 99% versus the 1%. A quick run of the numbers told me that I was very safely part of the larger group and in no practical danger of ever reaching into the ranks of the smaller. It might shock you to know that I’m actually ok with that. Not as happy as I might be as a Powerball winner, mind you, but mostly content to live the life of a white collar working stiff, even if that means I’m going to have to do my best to stay employed for the next 30-ish years.

Look, no one wants to “work.” I’m fairly sure that all of us have some happy place that in our heads we’d all rather be on a daily basis. It’s no secret that mine is some out of the way beach with a slightly dilapidated tiki hut rum bar on some backwater tropical island. In this particular fantasy land, I don’t do much other than read and write and sample the fruits of the local distillery. Maybe I’d finally get around to learning to dive or be more than a passenger on a boat, but that’s not strictly necessary. OK, so I basically want to be Hemingway minus the unfortunate run in with the business end of a shotgun there at the end. As cool as I think that life would be, I also like eating on a regular basis here in the real world. Since civilization basically collapses when we all decide to stop being productive and follow our dreams instead, I think I’ll stick with a job that actually pays the bills for the time being.

So there’s the rub. I don’t particularly want to work, but I definitely like getting paid. That’s the devil’s bargain we all make when our parents decide that it’s time for them to stop supporting our bad habits and questionable decision-making skills. That’s the price we pay for being a legal adult and more or less controlling our own destiny. I can still see a few life paths that may well lead me to that little bar, on that little beach, on some little slice of heaven in the Caribbean. In the meantime, I’ll do my best to remember that I’ve got a job that isn’t 1/10th as batshit crazy as the last one, because honest to God, that never fails to bring a smile to my face.