“We’re the middle children of history, man. No purpose or place. We have no Great War. No Great Depression. Our Great War’s a spiritual war.” – Fight Club
I love Demotivators. You should buy a calendar a year from them. Or more, if you have more than one year each year.
Men must have a purpose. If they don’t have one, they’ll either find one, or die.
During the vast majority of my career I’ve been a supervisor of between one (which is the minimum you can be a supervisor of, unless you have multiple personalities) and 200 people (they worked for the eight or so people working for me, so I was like a great-grand boss).
I’ve seen all sorts of weird things – an employee on day one had his company laptop stolen out of his hotel room in New Jersey and then got punched in the face at his apartment building the next day and showed up to work with two horrible black eyes (this story is true). I worried he would be an awful employee – bad luck often seems to follow some people around, but he turned out just to be unlucky that week – the rest of his career has been pretty good.
I’ve seen employees quit for no real good reason, I’ve seen them quit for very good reasons. I’ve (unfortunately) been in the position of forcing an employee out (i.e., letting them know that the hammer is coming down so they’d better find something soon) and I’ve had to fire people. Firing is the roughest, but it also helps the employee find a place that they can be that will help them – most of the times, they’re just not a fit for the job. One employee developed diabetes and ulcers while working for me. The job wasn’t high pressure, but the employee just wasn’t cut out for it. Or, maybe I’m an amazing jerk. Nah, it must be he wasn’t cut out for it.
Sometimes the happiest occasion is when an employee retires.
Not that I want them to retire, especially if they’re good at what they do and fun to be around. But after 45 or 50 years, it’s nice for them to be able to spend the next few months before they die doing whatever they want to. I kid! But how many people retire and then die within a few months? Far too many, and I think I know why.
I was fortunate enough to be a supervisor to two employees that retired on the same day, Kermit and Fozzie. Kermit and Fozzie had worked together for decades. They had vacationed together. They lunched together. I think they even shared shoes and toenail clippers. It was only fitting that they retire on the same day.
Fozzie was ready to retire. Really ready to retire. He had plans. He had a big RV, plans for fishing and grandkids. He had bought a house about 100 miles away and sold the one near to town. He’d calculated his retirement down to the penny – and figured out how to maximize every benefit he could think of. And he was done.
About six minutes after we cut the retirement cake, he was gone. The last time I heard from him was as he walked out the door at his retirement party, essentially telling us if we ran into any problems and needed his help, he’d be available approximately never. His last act was to place a huge poster on his office door specifically mocking in a humorous way about a dozen employees that he found fault with. (Thankfully I wasn’t on the poster.)
Fozzie was done.
In truth, he was probably done two or three years earlier, but he had waited for Kermit.
Kermit had a house that he had bought that was closer to 200 miles away. But Kermit didn’t have plans. He rarely saw his grandkids, and his hobby, his passion was really work.
Both Kermit and Fozzie had a great amount of technical knowledge – and I promised either of them that they could get an hourly consulting contract to assist teaching the 24 year old kids that were replacing them. Fozzie told me in rather distinct medical terminology exactly where I could put that contract. Again, nothing personal. Fozzie was done.
Kermit? Three months later Kermit was in the office at least 20 hours a week. I rarely tasked him with anything specific – I mainly had him help and teach the younger employees (which I think he loved). I’m not in that position anymore with that company, but Kermit is still coming in every week.
Why does Kermit keep coming in?
It’s his purpose. If he wasn’t at work, he wouldn’t have a purpose. That’s not an indictment of Kermit – he’s a heck of a guy. He simply understands (or maybe feels) that he has the ability to keep going and to keep adding value in the workplace. And he’s got nothing in his life outside of work that makes him that happy.
Kermit would do it for free if he wasn’t being paid. I actually think there are some months he didn’t bill the company – and I recall having to nag him about turning a bill in at all.
I’m certain that if Kermit wasn’t coming in? He’d die. It’s who he is.
Men must have a purpose. If they don’t have one, they’ll either find one, or die.
What’s your purpose?
