Essential Snobbery 101: Playing truant at The Scrooge School of Corporate Christmas

The Spectre of Christmas Parties

Christmas parties are a genre I would rather not be part of, having attended two such events in the 1990s. Both were experiences I would prefer to forget, with recollections close to reliving a nightmare. Part of me would say I would never have been found in the company of those I was with, but for the circumstances enabling it.

In the first instance, we attended a tavern close to Tower Hill. It was themed as a medieval banquet, complete with all the excesses of drink and meat, along with the bawdiness that chose to disrespect the waitresses as part of the entertainment. My verdict: never again.

A Sobering Experience

Then, in a swanky hotel in the West End, when I moved to another company, the alcohol flowed freely. I had the unfortunate situation of being the only sober man, apart from the drivers, for probably ten miles.

I learnt a great deal from my colleagues that evening. The setting, I later discovered, served as the consummation of an illicit affair between married people. It was full-blown adultery, and I knew nothing about it at the time.

My manager, full of drink and many words, took to whispering in my ear about how much he liked me, the work I did, and many other things that would have left me more red-faced than a ripe beetroot. I kept what he said close to my chest. At least I knew I enjoyed a lot of favour and liking from my boss; for a contractor, it also meant someone was fighting your corner.

The Art of Absence

From then on, I mostly absented myself from such gatherings. I couldn't make it, I was on holiday, or I found an occupation that could pass for an excuse.

Three such parties came on my calendar this year. The first was an invitation to participants on a project we finally got over the line last month. They all came from the provinces into Manchester and totally went to town. After dinner, I was ready to go home whilst they were off to a pub and much else.

One of them was inviting others to a party at 4:30 AM. Even as a night-time insomniac, that was well past my bedtime. I was home just after 11:00 PM to take my medication and snuggle up in bed, not knowing that the paracetamol I needed to relieve a headache was bedside too.

Corporate Miserliness

The other, arranged by our management, was a thesis to the Ebenezer Scrooge School of Economics. We were required to bring items in to share when such a season of goodwill, where much was demanded of us outside our remit, should have elected for a spirit of generosity on the corporate AmEx card. I did not attend; I was on leave.

However, this year at work, and I enjoy what I do, has exposed me to characterisations of management that led me to freelancing for almost 30 years. The way the use of authority and status can gradually turn you into a misanthrope, as a product of both being patronised and dehumanised at the same time. It is probably a management technique.

A Genuine Gathering

Then, I have just returned from the restaurant where, as a volunteer to a Black men's support group, I was invited by the convenor to thank us for the support we give to the group. It was just five of us, but it was a very pleasant evening: no alcohol, sober talk, and more communal support for each other.

That will be the end of such parties for 2025. I do not, however, expect those who failed to perform to a standard befitting of their station to have improved. Hopefully, I will not have to be at the receiving end of another exemplification that would make Mr Scrooge proud of this generation of graduates.

Wishing you all a merry Christmas amongst those who care enough to show that they do. Enough said.

Thought Picnic: Of character building moments

As I walk

Building character is an evolutionary activity that is under constant review, assessment, reflection and adjustment. At least, that is how I think about it.

One episode this morning caused me to reflect on some of my attitudes to certain situations. It had snowed in Reading and as the pavements had not been gritted, one had to be careful as one walked from the hotel to the railway station.

As I walk briskly, albeit, with a walking cane, I am careful and usually do not expect to have to manoeuvre run more able-bodied people on the street. I would tend to walk close to buildings as well as follow the crowd.

Don’t talk back

I turned the corner and almost walked into someone coming up against me, I made my excuses and he walked around me. The next person simply ignored what had happened in front of him and made to stand in my way when I swung my cane directing him to walk to the right of me as there was no space to the left of me.

He followed my guidance, but as he passed me, he said, “Don’t use your stick at me.”, I then looked back at him as said, “You’re being an idiot.” As the words came out of my mouth, I was both agitated and deflated. I regretted it.

The situation made me reflect on why I had to answer back because there was no reason to. Once he had followed my directions, whatever way he felt about it should have been left to him as I had achieved my goal of, standing my ground and keeping my lane.

Tackle and leave

I felt diminished by the unnecessary outburst and promised myself to do better. I have on many occasions set in motion an act with the aim of attaining a goal and left at that. Engagement beyond having instigated my action simply develops into unhealthy interactions one can do without.

It reminded me of one instance where travelling in the 1^st Class compartment of an international train, I could neither relax nor nap because a child was completely implacable and an unruly disturbance. I got up and loudly addressed the parent to see to their ward then sat down.

For 5 minutes the father abused and railed, cursed and vituperated vitriol to the point of exhaustion. I ignored him. By that time, the child was quiet, we all could relax and the journey ended peacefully. From the little intervention, I had achieved what everyone wanted, peace and quiet. I don't dislike kids, but where parents are not embarrassed enough for their kid's behaviour to be seen to do something about it. They do have to be called out.

Achieve the prize

My not engaging the father at all meant the situation did not escalate or degenerate into a breach of the peace. Yes, I took brickbats for it, it was completely worth it.

I can be a better man even if people cannot be reasonable or considerate when they encounter me. I do not have to revel in the uncouth just to impact them. Silence is golden and worth its weight in gold. That is the building of character, only engage when your aim is about to be defeated, else, leave, your aim achieved and your dignity intact.

In praise of the art of conversation

A warm feeling

She shook my hand as we parted ways saying, “Don’t lose your sense of humour.” The phlebotomist had just drawn blood into five vials but we were literally chatting through that event.

Nothing comes more gratifying for me as the stimulation of conversation with strangers. In need to have blood tests done before I meet my consultant next week. The morning saw a deluge of rain, it looked like the makings of a miserable day that I considered postponing my visit to the hospital until Thursday, today.

Just as the afternoon moved into the evening, the sun came out radiantly, it offered the chance of a quick dash to and from the hospital, and so I set forth.

Canes for pains

A lady boarded the bus at the next bus stop and the movement of the bus meant slowly grasping down the aisle, almost too unsteady on her feet before she found a seat and sighed, “Eventually.”

A quipped about having something to hold on to before began taking about the differences between our walking canes, hers with a crook handle and mine without, where we bought our canes, she had hers measured for and the sophistication of canes.

In the ten-minute bus ride, I learnt of her husband, meetings she attends, the wonder of English weather and how it changes, whilst she was told of my living in Amsterdam, the freedom of riding bicycles and my visits to the Canary Islands where I got my cane.

The violence of silence

Spontaneity and engagement made for a pleasant meeting of minds that we exchanged pleasantries that are even more effusive when I got to my bus stop and she wished me well for what I was going to do at the hospital.

Hospitals – the cost of parking, too prohibitive and the fact that the renovations at the hospital I was visiting did not consider making more allowances for parking spaces.

The long tube ride was quiet and without event, until I got to the hospital where I was ushered to the waiting room. The first nurse to say hello when I arrived then came out to get me.

Facing the past

The conversation started with my date of birth, a date I wished was moveable to which she suggested whilst youth was good, retirement was even better.

I regaled her with a story of being recognised by a classmate in a bar in The Hague after 27 years of leaving school, I either maintained my looks or my friend does not suffer from any form of prosopagnosia, I just cannot make out the features of a face without my glasses on.

In her case, it was a friend of her daughter when she lived in Madrid who recognised her on Oxford Street after 15 years of their last meeting.

We relapsed into our various tales of the uncanny, laughing and cheering as my veins filled the vials that if were to expire due to exsanguination that would have been a happy conclusion.

Farewells and smiles

Job done, plaster applied and shirtsleeve pulled down, I buttoned up, put on my jacket, got my hat, strapped on my rucksack and with cane in hand, I bid farewell.

Small talk and the art of conversation, interaction with strangers and the spontaneity of it all, none of my interactions on Social Media gets close to the excitement of proximity and real social interaction, it is why I love travel, chatting to people about the mundane that we soon get to the serious.

We must retain the enriching qualities of face-to-face meetings uncluttered by technological interference and that is part of the beauty and joy of living.

Pompeii: When debates deserve rebates

Doing absurd with excellence

Shakespeare gave us A Comedy of Errors and it was bettered with the Absurdity of Farce yet to be scripted into a play today.

There is a place where when they do absurd they excel beyond compare and the incredulity of it all left us gobsmacked and the world found the laughing stock of the evening either to make the headlines or to be ignored as a non-event.

He followed each time someone who won the spoils and later stepped in twice the accidental leader of the pack never having faced the count himself for what he could do.

Endowed with absence

Regaled in the emperor’s robes, he sways and swaggers with pomp and pageantry bringing along the highest honours of the logic of the zoo, putting primates in their place in what someone inferred was a tome so thick and grandly titled Strategies for backing out of an silverback tussle.

For when the cages shook and they beat their chests in the jungle climbing to the highest branch and balancing on a twig without falling with a crash to earth he sat in a tub of faux-bananas so endowed each bite expelled air that showed the trick of balloons filled with helium.

The rumble continued and one, maybe two could not be counted in the colony, the bush giving covering to the timid of sorts. The juveniles came and made sounds to our amusement one needed a didgeridoo for the North of the reserve left him bereft of the calls of the common.

Empty plinths are three

The day came and I felt like I have visited a heritage site with 4 plinths and on one was placed the statue like a plan for a great park that floundered because the patron ran out of money.

The curator attempted to make the visitors pay to view 4 amazing works of art when only one was hung for all to see – absurd, they cried, livid with rage, this we will not debate on, we want a rebate.

We moved as if from plinth to plinth though everything was about the only mounted plinth, the guide attempted to talk about all whilst addressing only one.

The boredom of heard again

The work was nothing of the art we expected but the multitude of words flowed as each aspect of its production was explained and we never fully got the detail before another stage was talked about.

Interminable verbosity had bored the audience to death but an undistinguished work of art exhibited by someone who pretends to genius will attract fools masquerading as aficionados knowledgeable with all faults.

The matters that really mattered never became the matter as the obsequious tamed genuflecting deliveries of softballs – a monologue, one said; a soliloquy did another and if one competes against oneself the winner might just be the very hard choice of oneself.

With that came a prize and so the farce for the record became a page of history.

Insincerity of a non-purpose

A cause without a rebel

As one comes to the end of another project, one is in a quandary about how much has been achieved in the last few months.

My suspicions of the sincerity of purpose linger without respite.

As one was hired to help introduce a best practice methodology for a scheme that was implemented by personnel whose knowledge and experiences of an earlier version beclouded their ability to see the new features of the later.

That is excusable until the pressure of usage reveals tell-tale signs a sophisticated old version or a poorly implemented new version.

That management had identified part of the problem was significant and laudable, at least that is why one was hired.

Sacred cows for roast beef

However, once the job started of analysis and recommendation, endless meetings of consensus seeking validation stifled progress mostly through the resistance of the earlier implementers whose sacred cows were about to be massacred.

My candid opinion was that the system as it was could be improved upon and there was no need for a radical overhaul and design.

Others were hell-bent on a complete redesign, whilst the incumbents had the agenda of trying to revalidate their failing implementation time and time again by bringing in the vendor to vet all documents.

In the end, we have a repository of position documents, logged hours of debate and analysis but changed not one single thing – 5 months down the line.

Just talking the talk ONLY!

My questioning of the sincerity of purpose stems from the fact that a rationalisation is already happening without having put anything in place.

It looks like management is seeking to have some modicum of due-diligence done but have no intention of implementing any change.

Meanwhile, the lessons one has learnt would go far and can be codified into the following lessons.

• Never offer your organisation up to be an early-adopter of any technology; you end up having to do it all over again 18 months down the line.
• Master the technology at hand before implementing alternatives, other experts might wonder at your lack of fundamental knowledge.
• Just because you are good at an automation process does not mean it would work for all applications.
• The debate about implementing technologies once concluded at management level in terms of strategy and financing should be left to experts to carry forward.
• Once a technology is adopted, decisions should have expert delivery not democratic consensus.

Documentation is not completion

There are more lessons to learn in terms of the pace of change, but there is a delusion that documentation is fulfilment rather than it being the first part of an agreed process.

It is very likely that this time next year, the same old issues would still be the issues being discussed.