Some times I wonder why I seem to be so out-of-sync with my culture.
The news programs on the day after thanksgiving were predictably focused on the coverage of "black Friday" which refers to the bump that retail merchants expect to get from the hordes of shoppers who cannot wait one more day to start their xmas shopping.
This year there were the usual stories about people who waited outside in the cold just to be first in line to buy an Xbox at Wal-Mart. This is when I question why someone would do that? Then I think of all the 'sheeple' you see on the evening so-called news who are perfectly willling to stand in line to get tickets to a baseball game or to watch the parrot guy sing Margaritaville for the ten-thousanth time. Well, I guess I am glad for them. After all I do believe in capitalism and the victims doen't seem to mind.
The problem for me is I am line-phobic. Those who know me will tell you that I am patient with most aspects of life. But, I hate standing in lines. My wife is just the opposite. Most people who grew up in the shadow of NYC were acclimated to lines for everything. Deli, Bus, Toilet, Gas Station, Laundry, Soup - everything. NYC people see a line and rush to get into it before you; then, they ask what the line is for. You could not get me to wait in line for Guaranteed Eternal Salvation.
One exception that I can think of: If the entire financial system collapses and the liquor stores close because money is worthless, I would stand in line to trade all my Excellence Awards and plaques for a single cup of Dewars.
I was cleaning out my "office" in the basement the other day, and was impressed by the collection of Plaques and "Certificates of Accomplishement" I had received over the years.
Most of these were meaningless "attaboy" incentives that some mouthbreathing manager thought would motivate me to work harder.
Then there were the training certificates. Talk about impressive. I had evidence that I have attended Training in Project Management, Presentation Skills, Developing Superior Negotiation Techniques, Documenting Business Rules, and Re-engineering Business Processes. I have another folder attesting to my attendance at 5 different PeopleSoft classes, several for software companies that I had long forgotten. Then there were several certificates for "seminars" that I had attended in Data Warehousing, Business Intelligence, Visual Display of Information, and similar topics. I also had stuff from Vendor User Group meetings that had been held in places like Atlanta, Orlando, SanFranciso, and (pre-deluvian) New Orleans.
It occured to me that the companies that I worked for had paid the bill for each of these "learning" venues. A quick estimate of the total cost of all this education is probably between $30-40K. In retrospect I conclude that most of this expense was a waste. Not that I failed to have a good time traveling to these fun places and getting paid attending class as opposed to working - I did find this use of my time totally worthwhile. No, the waste was for the companies that I worked for who were paying the bills. Most of the stuff we learned at these seminars and classes was ignored by our management. I recall one senior manager greeting a group of newly promoted managers as we returned from Management Training100. He said, "OK you had a nice week enjoying the Ocean view and eating gourmet food. Now forget everything they told you and let's get back to work."
I tossed all the meaningless certificates and awards in the trash, the same way you chuck yesterday's newspaper. I wonder why I saved them all this time.
11/25/2005
11/22/2005
Bungle takes a Holiday
Life at work goes on and on. I am getting seriously burned -out working on one particular report, which has been in "User Testing" for eight weeks.
It was done when I went on vacation in September but somehow it got redesigned while I was away. Gremlins and scope creep have oozed out of thje woodwork. The PM decided to change programmers just as we were getting to the end of things.
Now if you have ever dealt with code jockeys you know that there is no more cardinal sin of stupidity than to change horses in strong current. Programmers hate any code that they are forced to maintain - especially if it was written by another. Much like writers editing someone else's dreadful prose.
It is not consoling that we have discovered at least three seious bugs in the way Oracle writes to their audit tables, and we have shone a spotlight on the malfeasence of the custom design team in creating a virtual plate of spaghetti for a database.
The PM is still micromanaging the whole affair and doing everyone's job. He is working pretty hard, but the rest of us are letting him do it, wondering when or if he will figure out how to manage people who know more than he does. It may take months, but for us - it's easy money for now.
Actually, phase 2 is not going so bad. Big difference, writing specs for a system that you know a little about, and with users who have had a few months of real experience under their belts.
I have come to the point where I actually enjoy the weekly status meetings, despite the fact that they do not accomplish anything. I keep thinking how it ties the PM up and he cannot faithfully do our all of our jobs for us while he is earnestly managing that powerpoint project document. (I never can figure out what percentage complete I am with any task until it has been done and not undone by management for at least a week.)
Have a great Holiday and thank your lucky stars if you are free of micro management.
It was done when I went on vacation in September but somehow it got redesigned while I was away. Gremlins and scope creep have oozed out of thje woodwork. The PM decided to change programmers just as we were getting to the end of things.
Now if you have ever dealt with code jockeys you know that there is no more cardinal sin of stupidity than to change horses in strong current. Programmers hate any code that they are forced to maintain - especially if it was written by another. Much like writers editing someone else's dreadful prose.
It is not consoling that we have discovered at least three seious bugs in the way Oracle writes to their audit tables, and we have shone a spotlight on the malfeasence of the custom design team in creating a virtual plate of spaghetti for a database.
The PM is still micromanaging the whole affair and doing everyone's job. He is working pretty hard, but the rest of us are letting him do it, wondering when or if he will figure out how to manage people who know more than he does. It may take months, but for us - it's easy money for now.
Actually, phase 2 is not going so bad. Big difference, writing specs for a system that you know a little about, and with users who have had a few months of real experience under their belts.
I have come to the point where I actually enjoy the weekly status meetings, despite the fact that they do not accomplish anything. I keep thinking how it ties the PM up and he cannot faithfully do our all of our jobs for us while he is earnestly managing that powerpoint project document. (I never can figure out what percentage complete I am with any task until it has been done and not undone by management for at least a week.)
Have a great Holiday and thank your lucky stars if you are free of micro management.
11/14/2005
Mid November thots
It was cold in Massachusetts last night. The last of the annuals in the garden, stems drooping and blackened by the killer frost, seem to accept their fate. We are all waiting for the inevitable snow.
As I stopped to remember the pungent smell of the marigolds and tomato vines, and recalled the harvest of beauty and fruit, suddenly, the air was filled with leaves, drifting from the elms and oaks along the back fence. Spiraling and spinning like a squall softly to the ground in the still morning air. There was not a breath of wind to knock them from their branches, and I wondered what had made them take flight. But no Crows or foraging squirrels were to be seen.
The air seemed filled with them. Crimson and gold leaves, which had held fast to the branches through the storms and winds of three seasons, now become airborne for that brief final moment before returning to the earth.
I guess it was plain old fashioned gravity pulling them from the branch tips to spiral to the ground. But, did they finally let go, or did the tree decide to let them go? Not that it mattered now. Dust to dust.
We are a lot like those leaves, hanging on to our lives and loves through rain and shine. Then one day we just let go, and then we know the answer.
As I stopped to remember the pungent smell of the marigolds and tomato vines, and recalled the harvest of beauty and fruit, suddenly, the air was filled with leaves, drifting from the elms and oaks along the back fence. Spiraling and spinning like a squall softly to the ground in the still morning air. There was not a breath of wind to knock them from their branches, and I wondered what had made them take flight. But no Crows or foraging squirrels were to be seen.
The air seemed filled with them. Crimson and gold leaves, which had held fast to the branches through the storms and winds of three seasons, now become airborne for that brief final moment before returning to the earth.
I guess it was plain old fashioned gravity pulling them from the branch tips to spiral to the ground. But, did they finally let go, or did the tree decide to let them go? Not that it mattered now. Dust to dust.
We are a lot like those leaves, hanging on to our lives and loves through rain and shine. Then one day we just let go, and then we know the answer.
11/06/2005
The Secret to Success
People keep asking me "What kind of work do you do."
Even my lovely wife and kids cannot really explain what I do for a living.
Sometimes I wish I had an easily understood job title. Cop, Firefighter, Dog Catcher - everyone knows what these people are doing. But if you tell them that you are a systems analyst, and chances are, they will nod and paste a phony smile on their face while their vacant eyes tell you everything about how little they know about systems or analysis. You might as well tell them that you are a phrenologyst or a tonsorial artist.
So here is my job description in a nutshell:
I go into the office nearly every weekday around 9:30 or so depending on weather, traffic, hangover, and mood. I go to my "cube" and turn on the thingybob. The technical term for it is Kumputa. I sit in front of the Kumputa for about half the day, writing up notes from meetings and discussions. The other half of the day is spent having discussions with people and going to meetings.
You might well ask: "What are you doing that is worth a fiddlers fart?"
Aha, it is with that type of query that you reveal your true naivetie. Let me clue you in on a big secret: Success at work is not about what you do.
Go ahead and try to refute that statement. You can't. Name anyone who you think is successful and I can show you a thousand unsuccessful people who are as-good-or-better at the same kind of work.
What made the difference was not what they did, but what people in power think they did.
And what, dear readers, makes the difference beween what you really did and what they think you did? (Audience yells: "Status Reports!" ) You are right!
The main difference between me and the smarter, more technically savvy, younger, thinner and better-looking (but lower paid) analysts on my team is one thing: I write better.
Being a great writer is a gift which I take no personal credit for. Just as others were born better-looking and smarter, I was just lucky to have been born with an uncanny ability to make molehills of modest accomplishment seem like lofty mountains of unparalleled excellence.
When other (less gifted) analysts write the notes from their meeting with Mr Bigshot, they hurredly jot: "Met with Mr. Big. Discussed new Billing system requirements." Now, seeing this on one of your minions' weekly status report might simply induce a yawn, if you noticed it at all.
But consider how a Writer documents one of the most important summit meetings ever held in this hemisphere: "In a 90 minute meeting with "Doug" Bigshot, the single most important criteria for success in this project is measuring Billing process turnaround time. With these metrics business managers can measure their progress in improving processes and making them more responsive to their customers."
See? Not only did I use a lot of (possibly meaningless) jargon and buzzwords, faithfully recorded from the horses mouth, but I also gave my boss some new phrases to add to his (or her) status report. This is the nugget of how to be successful. You quote the words of the Bigshot and treat then as if he was the authority on best practices in your field. Kachink.
So there you have it: The Answer.
Now, what was the question again?
Even my lovely wife and kids cannot really explain what I do for a living.
Sometimes I wish I had an easily understood job title. Cop, Firefighter, Dog Catcher - everyone knows what these people are doing. But if you tell them that you are a systems analyst, and chances are, they will nod and paste a phony smile on their face while their vacant eyes tell you everything about how little they know about systems or analysis. You might as well tell them that you are a phrenologyst or a tonsorial artist.
So here is my job description in a nutshell:
I go into the office nearly every weekday around 9:30 or so depending on weather, traffic, hangover, and mood. I go to my "cube" and turn on the thingybob. The technical term for it is Kumputa. I sit in front of the Kumputa for about half the day, writing up notes from meetings and discussions. The other half of the day is spent having discussions with people and going to meetings.
You might well ask: "What are you doing that is worth a fiddlers fart?"
Aha, it is with that type of query that you reveal your true naivetie. Let me clue you in on a big secret: Success at work is not about what you do.
Go ahead and try to refute that statement. You can't. Name anyone who you think is successful and I can show you a thousand unsuccessful people who are as-good-or-better at the same kind of work.
What made the difference was not what they did, but what people in power think they did.
And what, dear readers, makes the difference beween what you really did and what they think you did? (Audience yells: "Status Reports!" ) You are right!
The main difference between me and the smarter, more technically savvy, younger, thinner and better-looking (but lower paid) analysts on my team is one thing: I write better.
Being a great writer is a gift which I take no personal credit for. Just as others were born better-looking and smarter, I was just lucky to have been born with an uncanny ability to make molehills of modest accomplishment seem like lofty mountains of unparalleled excellence.
When other (less gifted) analysts write the notes from their meeting with Mr Bigshot, they hurredly jot: "Met with Mr. Big. Discussed new Billing system requirements." Now, seeing this on one of your minions' weekly status report might simply induce a yawn, if you noticed it at all.
But consider how a Writer documents one of the most important summit meetings ever held in this hemisphere: "In a 90 minute meeting with "Doug" Bigshot, the single most important criteria for success in this project is measuring Billing process turnaround time. With these metrics business managers can measure their progress in improving processes and making them more responsive to their customers."
See? Not only did I use a lot of (possibly meaningless) jargon and buzzwords, faithfully recorded from the horses mouth, but I also gave my boss some new phrases to add to his (or her) status report. This is the nugget of how to be successful. You quote the words of the Bigshot and treat then as if he was the authority on best practices in your field. Kachink.
So there you have it: The Answer.
Now, what was the question again?
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