No One Can Hear You Scream

In the short story, "Kaleidoscope", by Ray Bradbury, we find several astronauts floating adrift through space, victims of some unspeakable horror that had recently befallen their ship; sending the surviving crew hurtling into an endless and certain cold, black tomb. But that's just unwritten back story. The tale picks up where everyone is already spinning out and away from the point of origin. No one sees any one. They can hear everything. Desperate conversation. Mad raving. Uncontrolled screaming. Deafening silence. As is the nature of so many Bradbury stories, here we watch as, one by one, these pathetic individuals eventually drift into oblivion.

Fortunately for all of you there is only one desperately raving mad person screaming into the cold black void of this medium. Me. As is the nature of such things (blogs and infomercials) the opinions expressed here are my own and not necessarily those of the staff and management of any of the companies I happen to mention inside these bands of HTML code. For better or for worse I have written as I have perceived things through my particular brand of myopia. Don't rush off to the ophthalmologist, myopia isn't contagious. Its hereditary. You get it when you're become exposed to people speaking their mind; calling it as they see it; owning the belief that a harsh truth holds more virtue, is more constructive than a sweet lie. This condition is worthless however void of any desire or hope for change or repair or restoration. Usually a rant from me is my own attempt to work that out; to come to terms; to reach some kind of balance. It is not always evident.

I am not the guy drifting through space toward certain death who is logically mulling over what may have gone wrong and all the scenarios of possible rescue while controlling his breathing in order to preserve air. No. I am the guy flying helter skelter toward who-the-hell-knows-what screaming at the top of his lungs so much that everyone hoped he would get hit by an asteroid.

Wow, look at that big bright fiery ball coming this way....

Aftershocks

It was all over the news here last week. A moderate earthquake spent a few seconds knocking around a patch of southern California in and around Pomona. Five point something, no injuries but lots of stuff to pick up before bedtime. This sort of thing happens frequently enough that many residents simply put the books back on the shelf and get back to work. We may talk about it for all of 30 minutes, laugh it up with friends living elsewhere as though our lives are in constant danger, then crack open a beer and watch for it on the evening news. No big deal. In fact, for most, our tolerance for earthquakes is such that we show far more concern toward people living in Tornado Alley than for ourselves or any of our neighbors. Most of have just become accustomed to it.

In much the same way we seem to develop certain tolerance for specific individuals. Like the callouses on the thumbs of a bassist, this serves as a healthy form of self protection that allows us to carry on. Sometimes there is, along with this callousness, a propensity to tell it like it is. What might come across as vapid and cynical to some onlookers becomes unguarded and realistic to others. Think blind men and an elephant; each of them feeling up different parts of the animal, each with a different perspective of the what the whole must be. It's just that saying it politely sometimes means you have to lie. Politics ought never replace honesty. It's bad for the psyche. The harshest stinging truth trumps the sweetest empty deception any day.


I am reminded of a guy I once knew. This guy appeared to be in it for no one but himself. I came to view him as a self congratulating do-nothing who, in nearly all my interactions with him, couldn't honor his word if his life depended on it, showing little concern for the environment which sustained him. Yet for more reasons than I will probably ever understand, he worked with us all the way up until the end. I use the term 'worked' loosely. His main task was to sell his time; to create a stream of income based on his vast knowledge about the capabilities of a particular software application, which made him one of the best in his field. In face before joining us he had been the go-to guy for creating the training syllabus for this application, for which he had been very well paid. Evidently this gave him the freedom to take half the year off. Some habits die hard I suppose.

Naturally I was very excited to hear he had joined us and immediately caught a vision of his worth. In fact before he was even officially 'on board' I phoned him to set up online training sessions that would take place after his start date. But for all the fanfare, parades and confetti all he managed to deliver, from what I could tell, was a mountain of broken promises and unfulfilled potential. At nearly every turn I found myself wrestling with him to get him to show up and run his sessions. Frustrated and flustered I quit putting him in the lineup. Because I was the guy who paid commissions, however, I unwillingly mapped his consistent lack of productivity. Being the expert on something and being productive because of it are two different things altogether. Yet on the payroll he remained.

There are times in life when coming to terms with a disease means you have to lose a leg. Or an arm. Or a breast. Something you no doubt would love to keep but doing so is slowly going to kill you. Day after day, hour by hour, slowly draining your life away until you're are too weak to even breath. Surgery. It's gonna hurt like a motha'. For weeks afterward even. But your going to be better off because of it. You're going to be alive. And it isn't going to hurt forever.

One of the things I saw time and again while languishing in the restaurant industry was how a person seemingly foundational to the existence of life as we knew it could disappear...and we always lived to tell about it. We thrived in fact. Many times I had to be the guy who pulled the trigger. Tough choices, sure, but essential for survival.

There are a few other instances, besides the guy on the BBQ in today's post, where amputation would have suited CVIS better than attempting to outlive gangrene. I will add that there were a couple of documented cases of miracle healing; guys who were able to turn their ships around before striking the ice too awfully hard thus sinking into the icy depths for good. Those cases, however, were the exception.

Rightly has it been asked "(can) the leopard (change) his spots?" The leopard may be able to look different for a while but eventually the dye wears off and then we all see the same old leopard again just as he has always been.

For CVIS the 'big one' resulted in our recent demise. Unfortunate, yes, but in many ways cleansing. Gratefully, Microdesk saved as many as they could including the aforementioned individual. Aftershocks rumbled through when a few from those ranks defected to the competition. Actually I am unsure if they had agreed to become citizens of the new world in the first place. However 'the guy' in question had definitely come on board. Signed the contract. Had the t-shirt. Then he, too, went and joined the competition. Sweet empty deception wins the day.

Or does it?

While this may seem to spell 'coup' for the competition, let me reassure everyone that the leopard will always be the leopard regardless of which tree he calls home. For now let's just keep that our little secret, shall we? Like with any lesson needing to be learned - it'll be far more effective if we let them find out on their own.

Culture Shock

I miss some of the old friendships; those people who for no reason whatsoever would walk into my office and bother me with nothing in particular. Or not bother me. Just take the chair behind mine and wait for me to finish what I was doing and turn around, which I would eventually do out of patient tolerance. But that was our company culture. Patient tolerance. Those of you who went through something life-derailing while in their employ know what I am talking about. It was almost funny how someone could exist at the place of least productivity for what seemed to everyone else like incredibly long periods of time...and live to tell about it. It's one of the things that made CVIS unique. Their uncharacteristic willingness to 'work with you' was both a curse and a blessing. It was a blessing when you needed their help and a curse when you watched them nurse along someone you know was having a destructive overall influence on the company, their clients and profitability. Plus you knew that whenever anyone got released (an extremely infrequent occurrence) it was probably well overdue under other circumstances.

This is one of the things that grew out of the management's concern for the well being of each individual in their employ (which was the major reason this happened) and because whenever new expectations were communicated the chances of them really having any teeth was about 10% or less.

I remember a situation when I first became 'in charge' of a particular department early in my career there. Coming from a strong business background I purposed to begin doing time studies to measure effectiveness and profitability of my staff. This was about as well received as a screen door salesman in a submarine yard. Hence there was an uprising, troops met with the general and he told them he would be the person they could all answer to. My management legs were effectively cut out from beneath me and so it was for the remainder of my time there. For me this one incident sticks out as defining all following days, months and years. It was this same style of leadership which became our culture.

Life on Earth has changed. Dramatically.

For those who have gone over to Microdesk, each are personally responsible for financial contribution goals which must be achieved by both sales and technical staffers. For everyone else, no skating allowed. If you skate, you starve. It's a lot like a nuclear winter. Nothing is as it was prior to the blast and you have to rebuilt the world. Eeveryone has something to do, no hiding. This is not a bad thing, in my opinion. Many brains are beginning to re-engage and the sounds of industry are slowly repopulating the airwaves.

Our culture shock draws nourishment partly from the fact that we are all attempting to find our comfort zone in this brave new world. We want to be productive, make money and like what we do. But another major contributor to shock is this weird vibe marching around in our shared office space. Like a big ass ugly invisible gorilla. It showed up the same day Microdesk's absorption staff did. Their task was admittedly daunting. They were suddenly taking over the 'ownership' (as it were) of about 20 exCVIS staffers - and ALL of the business in California. It had to be done and it had to be thorough. It also had to be professional. We were all in the same building however and so we all saw them everyday. My attempts to make conversation were not enthusiatically returned. Here and I thought HR was supposed to be filled with the introvertedly-challenged. This culture clash seems most evident in our differences in dress code. CVIS was not a tie kind of place. Business casual was our daily fare unless we are meeting with clients, and then dress as they do. Ties for ties, boots for boots; architects or engineers. But the 'seriousness' of the Microdesk staff (with a few minor exceptions) was fully realized by those from CVIS who now called Microdesk home. When the team left, the gorilla stayed. I dont want to feed it anymore. Not exactly certain what to do about it.

I am quite willing to admit to a certain amount of envy. Wouldn't it be nice to call someplace home that you know isn't going to burn down again by the end of nextweek? That's about as far as it goes, however. Corporate America, for all it's virtues, can often come off entirely too self-important like a stuffy, hot room on a humid day. With the air conditioner broken. If you can find the fun you can succeed at anything, however.

One last story: There I was minding my own business, semi sleeping in the middle of the afternoon on what would have normally been a workday. Many of us had been volunteering our time in order to keep-the-show-on-the-road while working out the details for future ventures described in earlier posts. This particular day found me wiped out mentally and emotionally and I needed a nap. This was my thinking as I dozed when suddenly my phone rang. It was a colleague asking me if the rumors were true. What rumors, I inquired. Rumors that I had been in discussions with one of our most annoying competitors - one with whom there was no professional (or little personal) love lost by both companies now in league. I laughed, albeit nervously. What would they find in me to buy, I asked. I reasoned my way through it with the person on the phone who didn't want to take hearsay as gospel without checking it out themselves. This trait is one of the reasons this particular person is going to be wildly successful in life, wherever they go, whatever they do. I appreciated the call and went into the office. Finding myself 'locked out' of the network I realized that this rumor had reached gargantuan proportions fast. At the same time it gave me a fleeting moment of my own inflated self importance at this critical time in my life. So pathetic in so many ways. After getting let back in, I phoned the most likely suspect and left a message. Later they apologized citing abounding paranoia.

Days later I heard that a very key player from what used to be CVIS had actually defected to the company I had been rumored to be making my big deal with. Only then did I understand the probable origins of the paranoia. If it had happened in a vacuum I could have taken it personally. This, as it turned out, was business. Even so, it would have been nice to have been consulted prior to dictating someone taking action.

But then that doesn't appear to be that company's culture.

From The Ashes

"All that is gold does not glitter,
Not all those who wander are lost;
The old that is strong does not wither,
Deep roots are not reached by the frost.

From the ashes a fire shall be woken,
A light from the shadows shall spring;
Renewed shall be blade that was broken,
The crownless again shall be king."

Tolkien, J. R. R. (1954), The Fellowship of the Ring, The Lord of the Rings, Boston: Houghton Mifflin (published 1987), "Strider", ISBN 0-395-08254-4

Sometimes I still shake my head in disbelief that CVIS, as we once knew her, is no more. Yet even in the midst of her demise she conspires to live on. Those of us who had called her home - some for over 12 years - who found shelter and growth within her walls; who despite her flaws never doubted her intrinsic value; who when we stumbled and found ourselves unsure were shown patience and care uncharacteristic in the business world; those of us who were lucky enough to have been scooped up and put to some task or other now possess skills enough to continue doing those things we were given the opportunity and oversight to have learned under her guidance.

Where there once was one now there are three. And while some among us have gone their separate way, most have stayed.
Microdesk, having received the bulk of sales and technical staff, bulsters their hold on the AEC market in California while CVIS clients continue being served without missing a beat.

GRM, what used to be the EDU division of CVIS, also employs most of the same indivduals as before. They carry on in the same fashion as before to exemplify extraordinary sales and service to the educational marketplace in California, Hawaii, Oregon and Alaska.

MoreCompetency.com employs the remainder of those who have shown interest in a new venture designed to carry-on the CVIS comittment to end user efficiency in Autodesk applications.

Microdesk and GNR are still running, of course, and going stronger than ever. MComp is a startup whose first meeting was this morning discussing business strategies and next steps. The brains and brawn behind MComp are from the lineage of training pioneers who took the hugely successful CAD Manager Boot Camp and all of its cousins to hundreds of AEC professionals throughout the state. Now through MComp those same professionals will be able to get products that will allow them to start making money NOW rather spending their time getting ready to make money - if you know what I mean.

So in what I had previously termed 'The Phoenix Project', the Fellowship - now split into three parts - will always be in the hearts and lives of everyone who was a part of it.

How are people taking the change? More on that next time!

Mike Hess Chases Down Potential Wife

Helga Paerson, a mid rated Swedish runner in the F25-29 class, was overtaken by an American of swedish descent, Michael Hess, 29, from Fresno, California, and considered for marriage in the tradition of all marathoners the world over: by the tossing of fruit flavored electrolyte filled beverages on one another from a disposable paper cup held in the right hand. Unfortunately Helga melted upon the first toss and was summarily eliminated from competition. Click HERE to see more photos of Mike running in Australia's Gold Coast Marathon!

Report From Down Under

I told Mike his info was on the blog. Today he wrote the following:

"Now everyone will know how slow I am.. great!! : ) That's perfectly fine.

I finished up with a 3:29 which is what I was expecting. we got rained on for a few minutes. Other than that is was a nice flat course and a beautiful view of the Pacific Ocean.

Tomorrow Rudy and I head out to Sydney. A few of my friends will be showing us around town. We will be checking out the Opera House and the famous bridge over there."

Hey Mikee, how about sending some snaps to post, eh?

Gold Coast Airport Marathon Down Under

Mike sent an email to let everyone know he made it down under safely. The message arrived about 2:30 AM PDT but it was already 7:30 Friday night where he was writing it from. Evidently there are five time zones on the Aussie continent. Pretty cool, huh? See, if you ever have to 'redo' a particular hour they give you an additional four chances to get it right. That's one more than the three we get here the US. Hm, I wonder how their healthcare system is set up. There's Starbucks! But I quickly digress...
Mike is in the M25-29 category running as number M2493. There's another Hess running, Ian, but he's an old guy (M45-49). The race starts at 6:50 AM Sunday July 6th (Aussie time)...that's only 2:50 Saturday afternoon (July 5) for you and me.
Give it about six hours or so and then click here to check on how he did. The link should update for 2008 results.