A New Definition

You don't really expect to encounter deep philosophical thoughts at the office on a regular workday, do you? Most conversations are about sports, demented managers, and the standard commiseration about "Why am I working here when I should be on my way to Hollywood to become the next Ben Affleck?" But every now and then, you hear something that helps you interpret the events in your life with a more cosmic perspective.

(Sorry to digress, but thinking of Ben Affleck always makes me think of this.)

I was cameraman for an "All Hands" meeting the other day. For those of you who are not shackled to the corporate whipping post, an All Hands meeting is where a Department's Big Cheese Boss stands up to talk about the state of the organization, and everyone in the group is expected to attend. Not a problem when the group is local...but when subordinate cheeses are spread out all over the country, it's tough to get them all to attend in person. That's where the modern miracle of webcasting comes in: We videotape the speeches and broadcast them out over the Internet, so the individual worker bees can log on and have the meeting playing in the background while they finish playing Solitaire or updating their Facebook page, or whatever it is they get paid for.

Anyway, as cameraman, my responsibility consists of pointing the lens in the general direction of the speaker, and taking instructions from my technical director through the headset. Most of the instructions I receive are things like "After the meeting's over, remind me to get the phone number of that hot chick in the third row" or "Next break, see if you can snag me a Dr. Pepper from the snack area, OK?" But occasionally, he'll say something like "Zoom in a little bit" or "Tilt down so the glare off the dude's head isn't quite so distracting." So the job is not all that challenging, and most of these meetings are not exactly packed with fast-moving action.

So, since my primary duties occupy a minimal number of brain cells, I can perform the required functions while using most of my awareness for other activities. Usually, I think about what else I have to do during the day, like planning what to say to the clerk at the Post Office when I go in to complain that I followed the instructions precisely on the automated postal machine, but my envelope still came back with postage due, etc.

[Seriously, what's up with that? Whenever Amazon needs additional copies of my book, I stick them in a standard manila mailing envelope, slap on the required $2.38 postage, and drop them in the box. There's never been a problem in the past. But this time, I couldn't remember the exact postage amount, so I used the machine. One of the choices was "Large Envelope or Parcel?" Well, the envelope wasn't that large -- it only held one book -- but I define a "parcel" as something that's either cardboard (ie, a "box") or wrapped in that brown paper with a string tied around it...so I went with "Large Envelope". Turns out, though, that the geniuses at the USPS consider it to be a parcel if it is (as the clerk I finally spoke to explained) "not too bendy". Seriously. Despite the fact that your packing medium came out of a box that was clearly labeled "Envelopes", if you put something inside it that isn't completely flat and foldable, it transforms into a "Parcel". Please make a note of it.]

Besides contemplation of my day's duties, I am also able to actually listen to what the speakers have to say. I tune out most of the dronage, since it's usually about how many days they've gone without an accident, or about how many pages of CDRLs they've submitted to the customer. Sometimes, though, they talk about the actual rockets or data received from Mars or something, and then it gets interesting.

I also pay attention if they mention food. And the guy with the shiny head mentioned that he knew this was an important meeting when he walked in the room and saw the Big Cookies. He explained that in all his years with the company, the food was always an indicator of meeting magnitude. If they had a basket of fruit, it was probably a complete waste of time. If they had pastries with those disgusting pseudo-jelly blobs in the center, it was going to be boring (even if they also had juice). But if you saw a plate of the Big Cookies -- you know, the ones that are so rich they bend like a Dali watch when you pick them up -- well, then you're attending something important.

He noted that this meeting was a Big Cookie Event. I like that, and I think I'll start to use that term in my own life. My Dad's 90th birthday is coming up: That's a Big Cookie Event. My friend Russ is getting married: Ditto. I'll be sure to let you know how those activities turn out.

Of course, I'll probably also be describing a few Fruit Basket events along the way, but please stay tuned, anyway. In the meantime, I urge you to seek out all the bendy and delicious big cookies you can find in your own life. And have a great day!