My job takes up about 20 hours of my week, so I'm home during the day not infrequently. That being said, I don't watch daytime television. I find daytime programming to be pretty pedestrian, and I figure I watch too much prime time TV as it is, so not watching from morning to evening is not much of a hardship.
Lately, however, I've stumbled upon a late afternoon showing of "All in the Family", that classic 1970s show that deftly dealt with a man, Archie Bunker, facing a changing world--and doing it kicking, screaming, and always political incorrect.
While Archie was the engine of the show, the soul was his wife, Edith. She was an optimistic, loving, simple woman, happy with her lot in life, which was not very much. Archie was the Alpha dog and king of his castle; Edith was the little woman who seemed to know her place. Lucky for the show's fans, Edith had an innate wisdom and kindness that gave us all hope for Archie; when mixed with her uncomplicated view of life and utter honesty, her words always made us think . . . and laugh.
I watch the show while I cook dinner, and I'm always surprised at how much I remember 30 years later. Last week the episode where Archie's insensitivity goes so far as to make Edith ask for an apology came up, and I knew there was a delicious ending coming my way . . . I just couldn't remember what it was.
The apology when it came was in the form of a gift. The small wrapped box Archie gave Edith could have held any treasure, and the prospect was as exciting as it was rare and unexpected.
"Go ahead, Edith; open it."
Edith opens the box, and her eyes grow wide.
"Oh, Archie! A Lady Gillette!"
Archie beams. "Do you like it?"
Thrilled to her very marrow, Edith exclaims,"Who wouldn't!"
I hadn't remembered what the gift was, but once Edith revealed her prize, it all came back, especially those last two lines. Brilliantly written, heartfelt while being funny, it was a bulls eye. Aah, to write like that!
I've got a show in rehearsal now, and it's going well and is pretty funny. Watching shows like "All in the Family" inspire me to keep writing. Thanks, Norman Lear! You done good.
Sunday, January 30, 2011
Friday, January 21, 2011
Appreciation
I interviewed a man recently who told me he'd been working for the same company for 32 years.
"Wow," I said. "I don't talk to many people anymore who have such a long history with one company. Congratulations."
There was silence on the other end of the phone before he responded. I thought we'd been disconnected before I finally heard him speak.
"Do you know: You're the first person who's ever said that to me."
"Really?"
"In 32 years, no one's ever said anything about it. Not my family. Certainly not anyone I work for."
32 years is a long career, and I found his words shocking.
"Don't get me wrong," he quickly added. "I like my job. This is a good company to work for. But even on my 25th anniversary, no one said a thing."
This gentleman was in a supervisory role in a hard scrabble, blue collar business. He'd come up through the ranks from a Laborer position and earned his manager role because he worked hard, had good people skills, and was smart. Much of his work had been outdoors, which when you work in Wisconsin can be half Heaven and half Hell. He went on to tell me that in advocating for the people who worked for him, he'd often told his bosses that they had the power to create strong company loyalty.
"Say something nice to them, I told them. Tell them they do a good job or they make you proud. They will fight for you, die for you, if you do that, and it won't cost you a penny."
"And did it make a difference. Did they listen?"
Without any rancor, he admitted, "Not so I noticed."
I don't know if it was thoughtless, careless, or company policy to not recognize a man with such longevity in a job, but I did know it was wrong. The bigger lesson for me, though, was the man's resolution. After 32 years, he's probably not too far away from retirement, and his calm acceptance of his lot in life will serve him well. Hopefully all the time he put in will bear some rewards and he'll see a decent pension check in the monthly mail. But even more importantly, he seemed unlikely to leave his career behind with anything less than serenity.
To me, that ability to accept one's lot in life without bitterness, to ignore or diminish the slights we all encounter from day to day, that is a gift. The grudges we bear, the anger we feel, these are the norms of most people's lives. How freeing it would be to not go to the dark side when we are injured, to not carry around that baggage.
It was one of my lucky days when I had the good fortune to interview that man. He was one of those "bigger persons" you come across from time to time in life, the one's who teach you a lesson without even trying, and for that I am grateful.
"Wow," I said. "I don't talk to many people anymore who have such a long history with one company. Congratulations."
There was silence on the other end of the phone before he responded. I thought we'd been disconnected before I finally heard him speak.
"Do you know: You're the first person who's ever said that to me."
"Really?"
"In 32 years, no one's ever said anything about it. Not my family. Certainly not anyone I work for."
32 years is a long career, and I found his words shocking.
"Don't get me wrong," he quickly added. "I like my job. This is a good company to work for. But even on my 25th anniversary, no one said a thing."
This gentleman was in a supervisory role in a hard scrabble, blue collar business. He'd come up through the ranks from a Laborer position and earned his manager role because he worked hard, had good people skills, and was smart. Much of his work had been outdoors, which when you work in Wisconsin can be half Heaven and half Hell. He went on to tell me that in advocating for the people who worked for him, he'd often told his bosses that they had the power to create strong company loyalty.
"Say something nice to them, I told them. Tell them they do a good job or they make you proud. They will fight for you, die for you, if you do that, and it won't cost you a penny."
"And did it make a difference. Did they listen?"
Without any rancor, he admitted, "Not so I noticed."
I don't know if it was thoughtless, careless, or company policy to not recognize a man with such longevity in a job, but I did know it was wrong. The bigger lesson for me, though, was the man's resolution. After 32 years, he's probably not too far away from retirement, and his calm acceptance of his lot in life will serve him well. Hopefully all the time he put in will bear some rewards and he'll see a decent pension check in the monthly mail. But even more importantly, he seemed unlikely to leave his career behind with anything less than serenity.
To me, that ability to accept one's lot in life without bitterness, to ignore or diminish the slights we all encounter from day to day, that is a gift. The grudges we bear, the anger we feel, these are the norms of most people's lives. How freeing it would be to not go to the dark side when we are injured, to not carry around that baggage.
It was one of my lucky days when I had the good fortune to interview that man. He was one of those "bigger persons" you come across from time to time in life, the one's who teach you a lesson without even trying, and for that I am grateful.
Subscribe to:
Comments (Atom)