Sunday, February 9, 2014

The Sin of Laziness

I can't relate to lazy people.
We don't speak the same language.
I don't understand you.
I don't want to understand you.
-Kobe Bryant

Being my father's son, I carry with me through this world a number of the same foibles and shortcomings that the old man did.  It is most assuredly not a circumstance unique to the Kenny men and while it is not my place to suggest that either of my brothers tote any of the same baggage with them, out there in the distance I think I can detect the motion associated with each nodding his head ever so slightly as they read these words. 

Being the old man's offspring however there are certain things that are part of the day-to-day that I do not consider either foibles OR shortcomings.  Quite the opposite.  I consider part of the paternal care package I carry with me on my day-to-day to be filled with critically important stuff. 

My parents raised six children.  None of us is perfect.  None of us is lazy.  The great intolerable sin in our household growing up was laziness.  Not relaxation mind you.  Laziness.  There is a none-too-subtle distinction between the two.  As a kid who spent a number of summers up at Harvey's Lake, it was perfectly acceptable to spend eight hours on a sunny summer's day swimming or rafting or otherwise jerking around in the water.  It was relaxation to be sure but it was still as somewhat active pursuit.  Synapses fired.  The mind was engaged as well as the body. 

It was never acceptable however to be unwilling to work when work needed to be completed.  Laziness was simply not tolerated.  Dad used to tell people who worked for him that each was expected to be at work - and working - on time.  Lateness was permitted only if the person who was late was in fact dead.  Then, of course, it could be used but one time.  Not twice. 

As I have grown to adulthood I have learned that not everyone was raised "The Kenny Way".  And the older I have gotten, the less and less tolerance for those who flatly refuse to give an honest day's effort.  As is often the way, it is those who do the least who bitch the most.  The ones who game the system, who have so little fucking pride or self-esteem that they content themselves with stealing their paycheck for all intents and purposes all the while letting those around them know (a) how unhappy they are with their lot in life; and (b) how unfair it is that their employer fails to recognize that their talent is being stunted by the allegedly lesser lights around them.  My wife has a term for such a cad:  Douche Nozzle.

I have not worked in a great number of "organizations" during the thirty years or so that I have worked full-time but I am hard-pressed to think of a single organization with which I have been associated that has not had at least one.  The Firm is, predictably, no different.  If the decision was mine to make - and thankfully for those who resemble these remarks - it is not, then a long-overdue marriage between ass and pavement would be performed without further delay.  

There should be zero tolerance everywhere for those who are too fucking lazy to put forth an honest effort.  I would rather deal with someone who gives maximum effort and squeezes the most out of his or her tool kit every day than someone who believes he possesses a superior set of skills but who cannot be bothered to apply himself.  One who acts as if the performance of the tasks which you assign to him in the course of his job is in fact some grand gesture or some indebtedness that you will be expected to repay at a later date.   If the big boss would just allow me to conduct a game - just for one day - of "Duck, Duck, Lazy Mutha Fukka" at the Firm I could free up offices and parking spaces for him in one fell swoop.  

Ah....a boy can dream.  One day perhaps.  One day.  

Until then, this is the Moral of the Day:  Do not be a Douche Nozzle.  Most of the Earth's surface is covered in water.  We do not need another Nozzle.    


No comments: