I know what you're thinking: Here comes another rant about the TV Media's irrepressible campaign to exploit the fears of viewers to make them stay-tuned and watch more commercial messages.
But you are wrong. I have no interest in lampooning those silly "live updates" with some pitiful newsy standing outside in the driving blizzard to report on the blowing snow, the wind-chill factor, the dangerous driving conditions. Nor am I going to jab the tiresome weather guys and gals for "teasing" us with the promise of dire weather warnings that we will only learn if we stay-tuned to the upcoming segment.
No. These may be pertinent examples of the disturbing trend of weather-tainment, but they are not the topic I wish to address today. Let me remind you that the theme of this journal is the nature of work and the meaning it has on our lives.
More importantly, this has been the record of one man's quest to find the self-actualized life. A search for fulfilling, meaningful work and an ideal workplace. (Unlike the Hellholes where he has toiled for most of his questful life).
I know exactly what you are thinking: "Give up. Utopia is for dreamers. Besides no one wants to employ an aging, stubborn, insubordinate, fat guy with no sense of urgency. (Did we mention unorganized?)"
Well, then fine. You have your opinion. I have this! (Holds-up a potentially winning megamillions lottery ticket. Fade to scene of snowplows on highway.)
Cold Enough For You?
We had a big winter storm yesterday. Twenty-something inches in my driveway. It was the best kind of snow to clear away. Fine, dry and light. The Snowthrower went through it like butter. Not really a big deal. And let's face it, shoveling snow is the purest form of work you can do.
Annually, I host a get-together for the guys to watch both league championship football games. Typically, they are the most interesting games to watch, since they pit the best teams from each league.
By 3pm the local streets were clear enough for George and Bill (fearless fans who laugh in the face of travel warnings) to come here to watch the league playoff games, drink beer and eat grilled meat. Rick and my brother cancelled, since neither of them had shoveled-out their driveways yet; they were still waiting for someone else to do the work (imagine passing-up the opportunity to occupy one'self in such satisfying labor.) My brother who is not a true believer claims that God put the snow there and he was not going to mess with the work of the Creator. Besides, the governor had declared a state of emergency. The roads were a mess. Despite such wimpery in the audience, the Patriots vanquished the Steelers handily.
Today, Mit Romney was on TV. State workers were being asked to stay home today, since there was nowhere for them to park with all the snow. Now, I know a few state workers, and I'll bet my lottery winnings that not one of them insisted on going-in on public transportation. One friend was supposed to start her new job as a state employee. She was told to stay home and take a paid day off. (That's what I call a great beginning. A harbinger of Utopia? Time will tell.)
We are going to the Superbowl Baby!
The superbowl is to a professional football player the ultimate success. As searchers of peak work experiences, we should all rejoice in the good fortune of these football employees - especially the third string back-ups who don't really have to do anything. They get a free trip to Florida in February. They get a nice ring, that can be auctioned off for big bucks someday, if necessary. And they get a huge bonus - even if they lose. That's pretty good work, if you can get it.
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