Cows give more and better milk when they are exposed to music. It’s true. It is thought that the music calms them, they relax, and outcomes improve. Happy cows produce better product.
It stands to reason people work better when they are happy too.
As I look back at my elementary school years, my favorite teachers were the teachers who made learning fun. I can still name the teachers--and many of the things they taught me. They made me want to go to school, and inspired me to reach for knowledge.
My first boss, at Ponderosa when I was sixteen--his name was Stephen Cable--spoiled me for the workplace. He is, to this day, the best boss I ever had. As I have encountered “lesser” bosses along the way, I have tried to analyze what made Cable so great.
First of all, like my teachers, he made work fun. It wasn’t just me. The entire work crew at that Ponderosa loved Stephen Cable. There wasn’t a person there who wouldn’t work overtime, or fill in on another position, or do just anything he asked.
It went beyond fun though. He made us feel we were a part of something important, and that our contribution mattered. He respected us, and included us, and didn’t ask us to do anything he wouldn’t do himself.
I remember him pitching in to bus tables on busy nights--and I remember him helping me bus on a slow afternoon, using the time to “pick my brain” about how we could make things run more smoothly.
Cable didn't last long as manager. After he took our store from the bottom to the top in sales for the region, he was promoted to vice president.
Like I said, Cable spoiled me. I moved on to other jobs with great expectation and anticipation--only to find that the majority of my bosses were egocentric power-brokers, interested in taking the credit for the work of their “minions,” and not much interested in doing any of the work.
To be fair, I have also had some good bosses, and I have worked for them faithfully, and learned from them too, but Stephen Cable still shines forth as the best.
I have some good friends who have lately shared their frustrations with their workplaces--and their bosses. I am, as a writer, self-employed. It has its downsides, but one benefit is that I can choose for whom I work. I choose to work for people who value my talents, who give me the credit due me, who understand that a happy worker is a more productive, and loyal worker.
It’s too bad that so many businesses can’t see beyond the “bottom line” to realize they work with people--and ultimately, for people.
If you were a cow, would you be more inclined to give milk to someone who beat you with a stick, or prodded you in the ribs, or would you give your rich sweet milk to the one who played you Mozart?
Monday, February 18, 2008
Friday, February 01, 2008
The Oldest Profession.
One of my favorite movies is Pretty Woman, starring Julia Roberts and Richard Gere. What’s not to like? The movie is a modern day Cinderella story, set in Hollywood, where “everybody’s got a dream,” and is replete with beautiful clothes, cars, and five-star entertainment--polo, and the San Francisco opera, attended by private jet.
The story begins when a lost tycoon, Edward, stops to ask directions of a streetwalker on Hollywood Boulevard. The streetwalker, Vivian, shows him by driving him there in the fancy sports car he has borrowed from his lawyer and does not know how to drive because, as he tells Vivian, his first car "was a limousine."
Edward hires Vivian to be his escort for the week, and the two fall in love--natch. In fact, just about everyone in the movie--and in the theatre audience--falls for Vivian as she “cleans up” and learns to act like a lady. In a refreshing twist, as Edward climbs the fire escape to rescue his lady from the tower of her barely-scraping-by-lifestyle, she “rescues him right back” from his shallow, meaningless existence.
Pretty Woman is a delightful romantic comedy, but I think there is a deeper discussion taking place in the movie. The love story provides an examination of the nature of prostitution. While Vivian is the obvious prostitute, Edward, and his lawyer, are the less obvious--cloaked in their financial success and upper-class trappings.
A prostitute, according to the Oxford American dictionary, is "a person who misuses their talents or who sacrifices their self-respect for the sake of personal or financial gain." Prostitution, then, involves “put[ting] [oneself or one's talents] to an unworthy or corrupt use or purpose for the sake of personal or financial gain.” To prostitute is to “betray, demean, devalue or cheapen [one’s principles].”
As Vivian learns, Edward has made his untold wealth buying companies in financial trouble, and reselling them in “parts.” He and his lawyer have been partners for years and are not above playing dirty to get what they want. “So you don’t build anything?” Vivian responds, uncomfortable with the nature of his business.
Edward himself confirms the commonality of their businesses. “We are such similar creatures, you and I,” he tells Vivian, “we both screw people for money.”
Vivian reveals a newfound understanding of her own as she refuses Edward’s offer of financial support. “That’s just geography,” she replies, when he argues that it will get her off the streets.
In the end, they both change their ways--Edward agrees to build ships with the guy he’s been trying to ruin, and Vivian leaves the boulevard for Edward’s world.
I find it ironic that society admires one kind of prostitution, and frowns on the other. I am reminded of the Jackson Browne lyric, “It’s who you look like, not who you are.” What a shame. I suspect much honest talent flies under the radar--and much falsity is taken for true gold.
The story begins when a lost tycoon, Edward, stops to ask directions of a streetwalker on Hollywood Boulevard. The streetwalker, Vivian, shows him by driving him there in the fancy sports car he has borrowed from his lawyer and does not know how to drive because, as he tells Vivian, his first car "was a limousine."
Edward hires Vivian to be his escort for the week, and the two fall in love--natch. In fact, just about everyone in the movie--and in the theatre audience--falls for Vivian as she “cleans up” and learns to act like a lady. In a refreshing twist, as Edward climbs the fire escape to rescue his lady from the tower of her barely-scraping-by-lifestyle, she “rescues him right back” from his shallow, meaningless existence.
Pretty Woman is a delightful romantic comedy, but I think there is a deeper discussion taking place in the movie. The love story provides an examination of the nature of prostitution. While Vivian is the obvious prostitute, Edward, and his lawyer, are the less obvious--cloaked in their financial success and upper-class trappings.
A prostitute, according to the Oxford American dictionary, is "a person who misuses their talents or who sacrifices their self-respect for the sake of personal or financial gain." Prostitution, then, involves “put[ting] [oneself or one's talents] to an unworthy or corrupt use or purpose for the sake of personal or financial gain.” To prostitute is to “betray, demean, devalue or cheapen [one’s principles].”
As Vivian learns, Edward has made his untold wealth buying companies in financial trouble, and reselling them in “parts.” He and his lawyer have been partners for years and are not above playing dirty to get what they want. “So you don’t build anything?” Vivian responds, uncomfortable with the nature of his business.
Edward himself confirms the commonality of their businesses. “We are such similar creatures, you and I,” he tells Vivian, “we both screw people for money.”
Vivian reveals a newfound understanding of her own as she refuses Edward’s offer of financial support. “That’s just geography,” she replies, when he argues that it will get her off the streets.
In the end, they both change their ways--Edward agrees to build ships with the guy he’s been trying to ruin, and Vivian leaves the boulevard for Edward’s world.
I find it ironic that society admires one kind of prostitution, and frowns on the other. I am reminded of the Jackson Browne lyric, “It’s who you look like, not who you are.” What a shame. I suspect much honest talent flies under the radar--and much falsity is taken for true gold.
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