Living in a generation defined more by how the media captures reality, we’re quickly losing faith in most of what we’ve been taught. The world-view theories from my 11th grade history teacher, from college macroeconomics to corporate finance, and the never life-changing Astronomy 10, are becoming archaic rants of high-waisted octogenarians. Colbert calls it ‘Wikiality’, where truth is what the majority defines it to be. With that, publications drown us in photographs of terror and sorrow to create emotions, and honestly speaking, nothing scares people more than images telling us: “someone is stealing my wallet, but there’s not damn a thing I can do about it”.
In recent days, I wake up to news that the Dow has found further depths in its abyss, that no one is using infused credit, and that unemployment is rising faster than consumers can regenerate the economy. The practicalities of using my ‘Education & Experience’ for both self and general welfare seems more and more fruitless.
This will not be a period piece to be read in the future as an F. Scott Fitzgerald look-back of continual class differences. Despite further segregations between the East and West eggs, this article can’t add further comment to what is obvious. I don’t have much to say to those with golden parachutes, nor to Joe the Poor; I can draw only from my experiences in the world of the middle class meritocracy. Most of my thoughts occur while sitting on the can or written on a fogged shower door. There is no guarantee that this will improve your life in any way, but I can only promise that I will try to consistently take my own medicine.
Recession proof.
1. Office/Cube Long Term Planning
I started my post-college career working in the client-service arm for the financial services industry; it was lucrative (for a 22 year old) and seemed well worth the hours, as long as you kept your mouth shut for two years about Personal Time: the ends justified the means. I never had my own office or desk because I was a corporate nomad. My ‘space’ was always some donated desk at a client’s office, in some forgettable state, city, or building. The only personal effects I brought to work each day was myself.
I maintained for three years as a third party witness, observing not only corporate behavior and politics, but also corporate garnish. Posters, John Darkow’s irony, Cathy’s perpetual weight fluctuations, pictures of family, pictures of pets, motivation logos, Bible verses, miniature zen gardens, miniature grandfather clocks. Each of these artifacts was a passive aggressive cry for individuality in a long series of cubes–after all, isn’t that the American way? Claim what’s yours.
In the year 2008, Manifest Destiny is finally meeting the Pacific; top heavy capitalism is currently busy trying to protect itself from the middle’s wrath and the Dow’s daily red is bleeding into the stack of pink slips prepared for Monday-afternoon distributions. It was in this year, I made the move into corporate and out of client-service (pre the infection, but post the ischemia of bank collapses); I was immersed to a world of the office space decorators and started to think. What happens during an economic downturn? Is it still our place to need to set stakes on behalf of the self? I started to picture the walk of shame and didn’t like the image I was envisioning.
Normally, you receive your letter of ‘relief’ near the end of the day and you quietly (with dignity) place your personal belongings in a standard Evergreen movers’ box, shake hands with the people around you, fake a smile to the manager who didn’t make a strong enough case for you, and accept their well-wishes. Exit stage left…and…scene!
But what happens to the Artisan? Removing the skate decks off the walls, Wes Anderson posters, stuffed animals, picture frames, company awards & recognitions (ironically) takes time. This extra removal effort leads to judgmental eyes and/or sympathetic whispers on your behalf, but the worst is still yet to come. This corporate hipster will have to make multiple walks of shame between his desk and the front door, and finally, with his surfboard he’s never used (but mounted on his wall tells his coworkers a different story) clutched under the arm, leaves from sight and the pain finally ends.
During an economic recession, a little foresight in office decor may go a long way. Mitigating face-saving politics, leaving with one box (or no box. ultra-win.) makes walking out with your tail between your legs far more sensible.
first.
haha, I can totally relate to the “Artisan” or office decor. nice tip.
third.