Monthly Archive for April, 2010

Widget Builders

Published on April 30, 2010 in Observations. 2 Comments

What defines an easy job? This is a question I have often pondered through the years. Is an easy job one that is low stress? Does an easy job have flexible hours? Is sitting at a desk all day an easy job? Does getting paid to think analytically and make decisions qualify as an easy job? Is a job in manual labor easy? Depending on the individual, the answer will vary, but in my opinion an easy job can be defined by two characteristics. The first characteristic is lack of responsibility. An easy job has no responsibility. A job where you show up every day, do what your boss says, wait for instructions before making a move, and generally do not think is an easy job. You are simply there to collect a pay check, not to take a personal stake in what you are doing. The second characteristic of an easy job is routine. If a job has a certain number of steps or a certain procedure which is always the same, it’s an easy job. Once the routine is mastered, there is no thinking involved. Show up, screw the widget onto the doo-hicky for 8 hours, and go home. Easy.

Widget Building

A challenging job is one which pushes you, stretches you, and makes you step outside your comfort zone. A challenging job keeps you on your toes, always thinking, planning, anticipating, and adjusting. A challenging job can make you a better employee if you choose to allow it to do so. A challenging job does not have routines or low levels of responsibility. A challenging job demands that you produce results with minimal direction or oversight. A challenging job does not hold your hand through every step of everyday. A challenging job is also a job that can leave you feeling like you accomplished something. It engages your mind and keeps your interest.

We have talked about easy jobs and challenging jobs, now let’s talk about bad jobs. A bad job is one that comes with an undue amount of stress. A bad job creates negativity in your life that travels home with you every night. A bad job is one where no one knows what you do, how you do it, or even if you showed up to work that day. A bad job is one where no one notices all the things you have accomplished, but any mistake you make is magnified and cast back at you as a cross to bear. A bad job devours your life, consuming all your waking thoughts and your nightly dreams. A bad job leaves you feeling trapped, hopeless, and panicked. A bad job does more damage than good, and you should leave as soon as possible. Sticking out a bad job rarely ends up as a positive.

Find a job that challenges you, keeps you thinking, piques your interest, and holds your attention. A job that requires you to use your mind will make work more enjoyable. Most of us work the majority of our lives. Why work a job that atrophies your brain, or destroys your life?

More Than I Could Chew

Published on April 28, 2010 in Stories. 7 Comments

Several weeks ago I wrote a post about racing my mountain bike in the pro division of a local race, the Beezley Burn. Growing up, I heard the phrase “Don’t bite off more than you can chew” countless times. I received a firsthand lesson in this phrase over the past weekend.

The race was actually a two day event, with a short half hour sprint race on Saturday, and a 32 mile epic cross-country race on Sunday. Saturday dawned beautiful, although it was a bit on the windy side. The race was at 5PM so I had all day to think about it. As race time drew near I began to wonder about my decision so many weeks earlier to attempt this double header of races. Although I had ridden the full 32 mile distance on the cross country course a few weeks earlier, I did not have as much time to train as I would have liked, and I had been sick the week prior. I just did not feel my best. Nevertheless, here I was about to attempt what I had set out to do.

The short track race started promptly at 5 o’clock, and right away I was in last place. It felt as though I was peddling through molasses. Half of the course had us riding into a powerful headwind and this did not help. I managed to pass one racer, but after that I was only passed, in fact the winner of the race double-lapped me. The course was about a quarter mile loop, so lapping happened quickly. I finished the race, looked around, and rode home hoping I had not expended too much energy. I ate a large dinner of lasagna, bread, and ice cream, potentially my undoing.

Sunday rolled around and I headed to the starting line with around 12 other guys who were racing the 32 miles. Another group lined up behind us, this group was racing 24 miles and starting 2 minutes after we did. I began to wonder if 24 miles was more my style. Too late, the gun sounded and we were off down a gravel road, dust churning into the air and down my throat as I settled into last place. It was hot, and unlike Saturday there was no wind. The race took place on a sagebrush covered hillside with no hiding from the sun.

As the first lap flew by, I kept up a pretty rapid pace. I was by no means keeping up with the leaders, but I was doing alright. Lap number two started out well and passed pretty much as the first one had, up and down dusty, rocky, and treacherous terrain. I gulped down Gatorade and Clif bars attempting to refuel my rapidly diminishing energy stores. As the beginning of lap three rolled around, I felt the first sensations of cramping. No big deal I thought, I’ve ridden through cramps plenty of times. I kept riding, but slowed my pace to try and keep the cramps at bay. Lap three took forever. I had to stop several times when my legs cramped from top to bottom and made peddling impossible. I began to slowly eat all the food I had with me as slow as I could, but keeping something continuously going down my throat. I peddled into lap 4 in this manner and began the last 8 miles of the race. As I neared the section of the course where the hills began in earnest, I ran out of food and Gatorade. Almost simultaneously I was hit with a double leg cramp that knocked me off my bike. As I tried to regain control, I realized that there was just no way I would be able to make it through the last 8 miles. I did not want to be dragged off the course, and so I made the decision to turn around and get back while I still could. I slowly made my way back to the finish area and submitted my DNF, a humiliating experience, but better than being drug out on a stretcher.

As I think back over this experience, the words “Don’t bite off more than you can chew” kept popping into my head. I truly had done just that. I knew several days before the race that I was not feeling my best. I was tired and worn down, and had just been sick. “No excuses” I told myself, “Go out there and power through it”. I learned that some things just can’t be powered through. I will try again next year, train harder, ride faster, and actually finish.

So Far And Yet Even Further

Published on April 21, 2010 in Observations and Uncategorized. 4 Comments

We hear a lot these days about instant communication, up to the second sharing of personal information, and the ability that the internet in general, and social media in particular has to keep us always closely connected with those we want to stay connected with. The question is, are we getting closer, or are we getting more isolated? Gone are the days when you had to be in someone’s physical presence to communicate with them, gone are the days when you had to pick up a rotary dial phone with a 2 foot cord and place a call to their house to speak with them, gone are the days when unless you got out of your house, you would have no human interaction. There are now entire legions of people who rarely leave their homes, but are in constant and instantaneous contact with people all over the globe.

He left his house, but no one else did.

So are we really closer with friends, family, and people in general because of this ability to communicate so easily? Surprisingly, I am going to say no. I would argue that having all this ability to communicate has made us lazy in keeping up our human relationships. It’s just so much easier to send someone a Facebook message than it is to call them. It’s so much easier to text them, than to actually meet with someone face to face. Why go out tonight? I can just stay at home, cruise around Facebook, play a few online games, and IM a few friends who live just down the street but that I have not seen in two weeks.

Our basic need for human interaction is somewhat fulfilled by hitting a few buttons on the keyboard. Is this really ok? I sometimes have the sneaking suspicion that I am growing more distant, and yet I communicate with more people more frequently than I ever have. What’s missing is the face time, the actually time spent in physical proximity to someone else. This is not to say that I am a hermit, it’s just easy to get busy and put off seeing people because you can just send them a text later and that is good enough. Maybe the truth is that it’s not good enough. Maybe all this sharing of information has only made us further apart. Maybe we throw up barriers to physical interaction to compensate for the fact that our lives are an open book online. I don’t have an answer, but I certainly have questions. What do you think?

Fast Food Workers Hate Me

Published on April 16, 2010 in Observations. 26 Comments

I recently took a trip to the nation’s capital, a place known to some as “The District”; a place where they proudly display on their license plates the slogan “Taxation Without Representation”. As is typical for a trip to a far off land, I stayed in a hotel and ate every meal in a myriad of fast food joints, slummy diners, and average restaurants. For 4 straight days I got an up close and personal view of customer service at some of America’s most common name brand chains. When I am at home, I might eat out or go to a coffee shop once a week, not really enough to develop an overall awareness of the quality of service. When dependent for every meal upon a teenager pushing buttons on a cash register, I began to notice the quality of customer service I was receiving. I was struck by how readily apparent it was that most of these people hated their job. Their movements were slowed, attitudes surly, and the quality of product they provided me was sub-par. Even at supposedly higher quality establishments I noticed that the employees just did not seem to care.

Who even uses pay phones anymore?

To me, the poor customer service I witnessed is a huge liability for the owners who are trying to run a business. When the face that your customers see every day is not a pleasant one, it does not do much to make them want to come back. Why would I waste my money on an inferior product served by people who seem to hate me, unless I had to do so out of necessity? My recommendation? Clean house. Send in undercover observers to identify the low quality employees and get rid of them. It seems better to be understaffed, than to be adequately staffed by people who don’t care, and send out negative vibes.

The poor customer service trait was not just held by people working in the food service industry. I witnessed it almost everywhere I went. Is this an east coast thing? Is customer service just inherently poor on the east coast? If someone out there has some input, by all means, let me know.

Lights In The Mirror

Published on April 8, 2010 in Observations. 11 Comments

It has been a hectic day, you’re tired, running late, and on your way to the grocery store up the street to grab a take-and-bake pizza for dinner. You whip out of the driveway and onto the street in front of your house, a section of road you drive 10 times a day. While fiddling with your iPhone, you instinctively accelerate to 15mph over the posted speed limit. You don’t think twice about your speed, you are too busy trying to text your buddy about the get-together this weekend. Suddenly you hear the unmistakable sound of sirens directly behind you, not the piercing up and down crescendo of a passing ambulance, but the short staccato bursts of siren that cops use when they are trying to get someone’s attention. Your stomach sinks as you realize the sirens are meant to get your attention and yours alone. You immediately slow down and pull over to the curb as your neighbors look out their front windows to see what is going on. The friendly cop approaches your vehicle and asks if you know how fast you were going. Sound familiar?

This is the scenario we all dread, driving around the neighborhood and not paying attention to speed at the precise moment a cop happens to be cruising past. It happens to the best of us. Then there are the highway speed traps. As soon as I maneuver my car onto a highway and out of traffic congested areas, my mind shifts to speed traps and the very real fear that there may be cops around the next bend, or on the next overpass, waiting to bust me for going 5mph over. A large part of my youth was spent behind the wheel, much of it above the speed limit. I am no stranger to speed traps or the tickets that inevitably follow. My anticipation and 6th sense for upcoming speed traps has made me a slower driver. This is exactly what the cops want. Speed traps impart the fear of the law into all drivers. You do not know when or where one will crop up until it’s too late.

It’s the ones you never see that are the most disconcerting. While driving on a rural stretch of interstate in my college days, I crested a hill to be faced with a highway patrol officer standing in the road, waving me to the shoulder. Turns out a plane had clocked me going 10 over the limit about 5 minutes earlier. No matter how alert you are, there is no way to watch the sky and the road at the same time. During one of many college road trips with my friends I had the opposite of the prior story occur. It was my turn behind the wheel. We were smoking down Interstate 5 in central California, and I was maintaining a speed around 95mph when out of the corner of my eye I noticed a cop approaching from behind on my right side. He passed us and quickly pulled away into the distance without giving us a second look. He must have been driving 110, no lights, no sirens, just cruising. As this story shows, sometimes things just go your way, but in general it’s better not to speed as other experiences have taught me.

Cops always seem to find ingenious places to hide and setup a speed trap. At the bottom of a long hill, on an overpass behind a road sign, in a ditch around a blind corner, it’s the job of the highway patrol to keep us guessing with one foot covering the brake pedal. There is no reason to be bitter or suspicious about cops and speed traps. Speeding is breaking the law, and catching people breaking the law is what cops get paid to do. Don’t like speed traps? Drive the speed limit.