Humor in Our Workplace

I stand accused and convicted without the necessity of a trial, judge, or a jury of my peers. What is a peer anyway?

ACCORDING TO WEBSTER’S DICTIONARY:

A person of the same age, status, or ability as another specified person.

Well, allowing for the fact it is almost impossible for a person of reasonable stature to conduct themselves in today’s world without having been or being judged, it goes in the direction of explaining why da harv is critical of being judged as often as he is being judged by those who sit in mutual judgment.

Note: Only those able to understand the above paragraph are likely to be extolled as a possible peer (of mine.) I say possible because unless you’re privy and present at the time of this scribe’s efforts, there is no legitimate proof I’m the one actually doing the writing. But in the event I am the person writing this white paper, here are some of the things I might be saying…

To quote a famous Valley Girl: “It is so proven, shut up. Laughing is good for you. I mean things are really funny if you look at them the right way, don’t they?”

No Laughing Matter

Not tattoos. Tattoos are serious. I personally don’t judge people who have things drawn on their bodies. I don’t judge what I don’t understand. Usually.

I was in an art gallery recently and took notice of some of my fellow men and women who were frequenting the venue at the same time. All of us were admiring – not judging – what was on the walls and floors of the gallery. I believe they called the place a museum. (Have you ever noticed how few, if any, of the Masters depicted their subject models with other than what God had bestowed them at birth?)

Of course, there are some abstract Masters who enjoy duplicating man’s appearance by placing arms, legs, noses and whatever else they can find in weird places on the human and not so human anatomy. While I know these Masters are certainly being serious in their artistic pursuits, they can easily be misunderstood by many of us. This is not a laughing matter.

What stimulated me thinking about all this was a recent voice casting we were doing for a big time health care provider.

I had to laugh…

As usual, the casting begins in our office. Our staff takes in the order (request) from an advertising agency producer, which includes all the particulars they happen to be looking for: age range, gender, attitude, and etcetera. The calls go out to talent that we feel meets the stated requirements of the sponsor. Appointments are set for the actors or actresses to come in and audition for me at our Burbank studio.

For this particular commercial, we were looking for an adult women in her 30s or 40s to show a degree of sincerity while conversationally selling the virtues of health insurance to a small town audience. This, is what I refer to as – pure white bread.

So often on these auditions, it amuses me the way that the people who show up for the auditions visually appear the way they’re supposed to sound. In other words, imagine calling in a gangster type and low and behold, the guys who show up all look like they could have appeared on “The Sopranos.”

I think you get the idea.

I was about halfway through the audition and was in the process of bringing in the next actress to read. I called out her name as I entered the reception area and got a little more than I had bargained for. Up until that moment, each and every actress had been cut from a similar cloth – as I had mentioned – pure white bread.

Comes now the tattooed and body-pierced lady. Maybe the reason for me being taken aback by the lady’s appearance was because our world of creative fervor bends towards the more conservative demeanor of life on our generally “Hollyweird” Reservation.

In any event, without ceremony I ushered her into my Studio A and as I adjusted the microphone (as is the normal case during this particular procedure of talent coordination) I found myself face to face – no more than two feet from her – and uncontrollably staring, transfixed by the sight of the diamond studs she had in her upper and lower lips. I was almost speechless – almost, but not quite.

“Don’t those things in your lips get in the way of voice over?” I asked.

She seemed a little surprised by my question and responded by informing me they had been in her lips for a prolonged period of time and that they didn’t impair her speech.

As a supposed true professional, I am almost embarrassed to admit the sight of this mouth that to me resembled a stop sign without lights. I honestly lost my concentration. We began the audition and I heard right away she was correct. The lady’s diction was not the least bit affected by her self-induced maiming. 

Truth be told, the problem was all mine to deal with.

A State Of Affairs

As reported to me by an erstwhile member of our congress of these United States of America:

“As the one and only Harvey Kalmenson (self-elected official), I do hereby stand alone and completely informed by the same elected official, placed in office by me, I hereby so direct his (my) function to continue on, and with one singular goal as my employee:

To serve my needs as his f--k-ing boss.”

Folks, somewhere along the way this donkey, along with his colleagues, lost track of what the sacred vows within our constitution so clearly instructs them to do on behalf of the American people.

***

“Yesterday’s Story”

What a shame to have to fire a whole group of folks at the same time, but that’s exactly what the man did.

Five employees discharged at the same time.

They (the employees) had all previously agreed to get to work on time.

No wiggle room allowed.

The particulars of said agreement had been meticulously explained to each of the individuals.

• Their work was important in order for the factory to run smoothly.
• Their station provided the set up work for the next station, and so on down the factory line.
• In order to keep the factory on time and running profitably, each group had to perform as a team.
• These five people (the group in contention) paid the owner-driver of a car to provide their transportation to and from work.
• They had been late to work on two previous days.
• This was their third day of tardiness, the day that “broke the camel’s back.”

“Three strikes and you’re out” were the words of the day. The next day, they (the five employees) were gone without ceremony; they had been replaced by five new workers. Cruel?

If you think asking an employee to live up to an agreed upon standard is an unfair request, my conclusion is you’re probably a lousy employee yourself. In fact, the bottom line is rather simple: reward your strong employees – get rid of the draggers. (A dragger is anyone who keeps the implementation of anything deemed necessary for success from moving forward).

        

It leads me into a state of wonderment. A series of “what if’s” enters my thoughts... Recklessly? Perhaps not. Perhaps, my thoughts are not reckless at all. 

About all those running for office:

• What if our elected officials are asked to sign a letter of intention, prior to being elected?
• It would be a rather easy task to perform.
• Each time they make a promise, it is recorded (this is already being done without cost by every aspect of our media) and then printed on a “Report Card of Promises Made.” 
• Every elected member of any legislative government body will henceforth function as an independent contractor of and for the electorate. 
• All elected officials will have their report cards reviewed by an independent body every six months. (Any of the major accounting firms would be more than happy to take the job of tallying the results; sort of like those who add up the votes for any of the big time awards shows (i.e. the Oscars or the Emmys).
• Failure to adhere to the report cards the elected officials signed and agreed to prior to being elected, would automatically terminate the limited contract between them and us.

Our bottom line is a simple one – if you can’t perform your job as promised, then get the hell out of our way.

Let’s face it. We live in our world as professionals. Why can’t our elected officials adhere to the same rules and regulations we have to live with? Let our congressmen, women, and our president try auditioning for the job, and then not being able to perform once they step onto the boards in front of a live audience. Mr. Stage Manager, post the closing notice. We can’t sell any more tickets. The press has reported our version of “Shakespeare Doth Sucketh.” 

***

        

"Alternative Casting"

Comes now to our play, the one and only world-renowned Actress A. Problem is, she brings some baggage with her. As the producer of the play, as well as the director, I break out in a cold sweat when I read and hear a variety of tales concerning Ms. A’s past. I mean like yesterday, when she showed up late for rehearsals.

As I sat there reading a newspaper, attempting to kill some time as we waited for her, I noticed on the front page a story about how our congress just passed some new legislation late in the evening, on a Friday night before they had a chance to study what they were voting for.

Meanwhile back at our theater, we began turning out the lights for the evening just as Ms. A abruptly entered the building. Without discussion, she offered how late it was and that she hadn’t had time to study the script, but she was a trooper and totally prepared to move ahead with a cold reading. Good-bye forever – I wished her well as I left without further ado.

NOTE: Actress A was never seen again. The play went on and her replacement soared.

***

• I’d like to replace congress members if they show up late or if they miss voting.
• I’d like to replace the senate if they are unable to present a budget. NO WIGGLE ROOM ALLOWED.
• I’d like congress to be required to keep and publish a weekly log of what they have done for that week.
• I’d like congress to pay for their individual medical insurance.
• As independent contractors, Congress would be free to take vacations whenever they choose to do so providing they submit requests for said vacation at least three months in advance.
• Each member of Congress would be required to present their personal financial statement for public review on an annual basis before a new congressional term begins.
• All elected officials would be required to submit full disclosure documents, secured by a private independent investigating service. Any possible elected official must submit these documents with full and total transparency prior to campaigning for public office. 

I Accepted the Job

I accepted the job figuring that I would just be passing through and before long, I’d be back working as a Production Stage Manager. I guess it’s a safe assertion that I considered being out of work far more of an insult than the meager 200 dollars a week that the corrupt asshole was willing to pay. (To this day, I can’t believe I was willing to work for such a paltry sum.)

For those fortunate enough to never have come in contact with anything within the creative world I live with, you’ll never understand how a man with reasonably good intelligence would ever choose to do so.

I’ve been with grown men as they pitifully sobbed giving into their uncontrolled emotions. I’ve heard people scream aloud in desperation over their chosen plight – people who dream and pray for success as the only bend in life that they could possibly accept or find tolerable.

While the world we live in continually picks up speed, the destiny-driven actors remain mired in centuries old sameness. Everything we live with continues to change; everything with the exception of those who pursue the world of the creative art form.

“Do you have any advice for me to give to my young son (or daughter)?”

I’m asked this regularly. Of course I do. Do all you can to discourage them from a vocation involving a subjective art form all the time knowing your efforts will be all to no avail. Once hooked, the condition is life-long and often life threatening. The trouble is the good ones make it look so damn easy.

***        

Once upon a time, as a far younger man on a particularly sunny day, I found myself whistling as I entered the headquarters of ABC Television. I was on my way to meet the Head of whatever they called the guy who did the hiring of stage managers for the network. Forgive me for not recalling the exact circumstances, but it was so long ago and much of the unpleasantness escapes me. In any event, a key network executive whose child had been directed in a play by yours truly, was introducing me in the best way possible.

(No names will follow – not the kid’s, the executive’s, not the head hiring guy’s – just mine.)

It was a heavy-duty interview set up. The first thing the hiring guy tells me is how well qualified I was for the job. I only had to wait a moment or two for the “but” to come and, as expected, it did. I knew then that I wouldn’t be whistling on my way home. (Not whistling on one’s way home had unfortunately become a commonplace event.)

I had had my share of turned downs, but this one was unique. The guy says he’s going to talk to me off the record and if I repeat it to anyone, he will deny having the conversation with me. He proceeds to tell me I am far more qualified than most of the people he has working, but a hiring quota guides him.

Long story short time – I was the wrong gender and had the wrong ethnicity or lack there of. I was told in most certain terms, the next ABC Stage Manager he would be hiring would be a woman. I don’t know if that was the actual scenario taking place, but it didn’t matter much to me.

This whole case history popped into my mind the other day when an actor told me I couldn’t possibly get what it feels like to be discriminated against. I guess if a person stays with this game long enough, they’ll experience just about anything. At the time, the word “discrimination” never occurred to me. It was more like one of the bad breaks that comes with the illogical territory encompassing my chosen life’s predicament.

Three Famous Statements Derived From The Ancient Documents Of The World Renowned Bullshit Brigade:

1.         “It wasn’t in the cards.”

2.         “What will be will be.” 

3.         “It all happens for a reason.”

                            

Translations:

1.         Depends on who’s dealing.

2.         (Should read: Or not will it be, maybe?)

3.         Stupidity! (Overdose)

A little known fact of life that was nothing but self-evident…

In the earliest days of acting, known as the Pre-Equity Waiver Era, actors were permitted to work without being paid for their performances. They were usually given enough food to sustain them through the final curtain call, at which time most of them were carted off to a special Demented Actors Storage Facility. It was at this facility where they were free to breed and pass on the doctrines of being in the right place at the right time.

Today, because of the benefits derived from the newly formed “Actors Equity,” those same actors are only permitted to work for free if the theater (house) has less than 99 seats. Of course, now the production company usually requires the actors to supply their own sustainment –eating – usually no drinking allowed.

In general, I am glad to report how many of those who don’t have the talent to become working actors are able to secure worthwhile employment – dependent on their formal education – as waiters, waitresses, and certainly the most dominant selection for most of them, the practice of law.

In today’s world, we find a similarity between actors and attorneys; both professions have well exceeded through faulty breeding, the availability of work to be garnered. In other words… there aren’t enough jobs to go around.

In the U.S.A., there is one lawyer for every 265 Americans. (Is it any wonder so many of them are looking for work in other fields?)

Note: It’s just about impossible to figure out how many actors there are, so my conclusion has to be that the statistics (at least) rival those of the legal profession.

1.         “It wasn’t in the cards.”

2.         “What will be will be.” 

3.         “It all happens for a reason.”

Odds are it “isn’t in the cards,” because there are too many players in the game; besides, there aren’t enough cards in the deck to begin with.

Yet, (thankfully) the breeding continues.

Comparisons Made - To What Avail?

The destructiveness in a small town Connecticut school is beyond the realm of mere insanity. And yet as we grieve, enduring the seemingly insurmountable realizations of life’s turmoils, what remains is the unseemly task of carrying on and moving forward with what we have left – vocations and avocations without real substantive meaning. But giving up and in to the magnitude of what our grief demands, a complete stoppage of our normal joys, is not the direction we choose as the necessary prescription if we are to recover.

I have no celebratory bells or whistles nor statements derived from the pens of the geniuses I’ve been privileged to read. Nothing said then or today offers any relief by the word form it takes. Sharing the disbelief of that day’s voided solace has brought the common man, the clergy, and the exceptional person along with the average everyday dolt together.

That night I drank far more than my normal potion. As usual, no grape would provide a softening element of relief. Like many, I cried at the sights and sounds being reported over and over again. Sitting there starring blankly at a television monitor as the station repeatedly displayed a continuous loop of the human devastation. Then the next day, and the next came without relief – the sight of caskets, too small to be caskets. Caskets should never be for six-year-old children; it was never God’s intent, at least that’s what I’ve been told.

And words come forth from the Talking Heads directed to anyone within listening distance. These people bear no fault; they are just messengers sharing as equals the realizations of the transformations caused by the unmitigated heinousness that will remain with us all forever.

They will never hear:

“Give me what you got…

“Don’t leave anything on the field…

“Come out of the locker room ready to play.”

“How happy can you get?

“How happy can you be?”

They ask and you choose to ignore. While listening to an individual who no wise person would want in their lives yet there he is, destiny’s gift to the world around him – as shallow as a pond could be while still being allowing some ounces of water to accumulate.   

“Do you have anything left?”

Comes now the momentary hesitation…

“Ok then,” he says with his hand extended waiting for the handing over of the ball.

“But Coach, you didn’t give me time to answer.”

“I didn’t have to. You were on empty; it was written all over you.”

“The Littlest Actors”

The man is an actor.

The actor is a man.

He’s a child; so is she?

What difference does it make?

It makes a great deal of difference.

Pardon me.

Excuse me.

Remove yourself. You’re in my way.

What difference does it make?

All the difference in the world.

To whom?

To me there will always be a difference.

He doesn’t really care.

He cares a great deal.

It’s obvious, isn’t it?

Not to me.

She doesn’t understand.

She understands everything.

Is all we attempt to do a game?

Is there a manager who decides?

Do we have anything left?

For those who have never played,

To take from us what is not theirs to take?

Those children are too young to play

But yet they have played.

Who awarded the right for a child’s removal, no matter the game?

Don’t take me from the game, dear Coach.

I have so much left in my tank, albeit such a tiny holder.

Ask my Mother about how much I can play.

She won’t be able to understand.

She doesn’t understand.

She understands everything.

The bewildered Father, friends, teachers, and the brethren along with all the rest -- their littlest actors gone.

At rise, the pleasantness of the moment is upon our cast of players.

All are at the ready to perform.

Then, without notice the darkest of curtains descends.

No applause, no gratitudes; our audience remains forever unfulfilled.

All is gone except for the memories.

At rise, what could have been will never be.

“The ball has been taken from them.”

HK