Monday, April 05, 2010

Business as Usual

I often joke about being a businessman. Whether it's seriously overdressing for my retail job or making completely bogus, off-the-cuff marketing consultations to actual companies, I have worked to build a facetious persona of faux-professionalism.

So when spring break rolled around this year and I didn't have any major travel plans, I figured what better to do than to be a businessman? After I decided on a theme for my spring break I made a point to take an accompanying photo for each of the four points of being a true businessman.

I'm ridiculous.

Business as usual.

I. Golf Outings
When I started golfing almost two years ago during the magical summer of 2008, it was mostly for the fun of it, but also partially due to my knowledge that a lot of business is done on the golf course. After the torrid pace of golfing done by my high school friends (Caleb Meyer in particular) and myself during that first summer, I slowed down a bit last summer with only about 45 holes of golf or so. However, Caleb and I decided to get an early start on the links this year (especially because he won't be able to golf anymore once he leaves for the Marines in a month), knocking out a relaxed nine holes on one of my days off. Caleb and I have probably golfed at least 10 rounds or more together over the years and it's something that I hope we can keep doing as we get older and our responsibilities take us all over the country.

I'm still a fairly miserable golfer who averages about one good drive for every nine holes, but my putting skill is marginally enough to keep our rounds vaguely competitive. Of course, I always take the entire round to explain (with tongue firmly in cheek) that my fashion sense makes up for my lack of golfing skills. To that point, I have always appreciated the unspoken dress code of golf. Even when we golf par 3s and crummy public courses, I jump at the chance to throw a sweater vest over a polo, get a matching cap and put on a pair of slacks or plaid shorts. The way I see it, if I can't be an accomplished golfer, I might as well give people the false impression that I am.

And obviously, the conversation is great. Golfing wouldn't be any fun alone. Even though we always have a full 20-30 minute car ride to and from the course, there's something about walking the fairways that makes it more special. We'll talk about girls or school or life in between mumbling curses for a wicked slice or a sand-seeking drive and it's just excellent. Tuesday's round was even better as we got to get together with a few guys afterward, sit on the patio and have a Swisher or two. A fitting end to the day for a couple of colleagues. Business as usual.

II. Business Lunches

Many a contract has been hashed out over lunch at a casual sit-down place, so Wednesday I seized the opportunity to catch up with a friend and tie it into my week of professionalism. Anna is one of the friends from high school that I really enjoy staying in touch with, and our time spent together generally takes the form of going out for lunch, thanks to our busy schedules of work and school. That strikes me as a very adult thing anyway - my parents each still have their friends they keep in touch with, but unless they're relatives or family friends, the preferred and sensible way to stay in touch is to meet for lunch hour.

For Wednesday's lunch, Anna and I got the obligatory "I'll have my people call your people" and secretary jokes out of the way to pick a time to hit the pictured restaurant and catch up a little about life over sandwiches. The restaurant was pretty decent, and the experience on the whole was quite pleasant, as our "business lunches" always are. I stayed and we talked for a while after lunch and then I had to hurry off to Madison to work a closing shift. Business as usual.

III. Tax Forms

Through all the politics and culture of the business world, the ultimate point of it for most of those involved is to put dinner on the table and a roof over the head. This of course requires a salary to be involved. And if there's a salary involved, then both Uncle Sam and Bucky Badger are going to want their cut of it.

Although I had a fast food job for 2 months in 2008, 2009 was my first year of pulling in any considerable income. There just wasn't any financial pull to work before and during my time at USF, but the transfer to UW changed everything - and I have put in quite a few hours at the bullseye as a result. The work is plenty, but the income is steady. Too bad I know it's all going to sail out the window at the end of the school year. I can only imagine what it would be like to be working and not paying for college...

But while 5 months of hourly wages isn't a huge chunk of change, it still requires all the due diligence of filling out all my federal and state tax forms. Thusly, the better part of Thursday morning was spent doing data entry with a W-2 in hand. I've been working for a while, but I feel like, despite being busy work, putting a finished tax return in the mailbox kind of legitimizes the idea that I have a job. And of course pulling in a refund makes the pencil pushing seem less wearisome. Business as usual.

IV. Gainful Employment

Hopefully this picture (or at least the tone of this whole blog) properly conveys the sense of self-deprecation and irony I have about my position in life. Now and then (with increasing frequency lately) I will have a spur of the moment decision to go to work in a sweater vest, tie, and maybe a fauxhawk or something, just for the heck of it. I can't say exactly why I love doing it so much, but I guess it must be some combination of the business-mindedness I talk about and the desire to break the monotony of such a job now and then. I used to call it "Shallow Blake goes to Work" but now it's almost expected of me to class up the place on occasion. At a workplace in which going above and beyond uniform-wise means tucking in your shirt, my exploits are generally noticed by higher ups. One particular day of overdressing led to one of my supervisors starting a store-wide best dressed competition, which I narrowly won (for the dayside team at least) thanks to a purchase of white suspenders and some parted and slicked hair. Your move, Don Draper.

And of course it's all meant to be taken with a grain of salt. Of the 40 hours I put in this past week, I only spent one shift dressed as the Duke of Backstock. The rest of it was just plain work, in just plain work clothes.

And that's what it comes down to for most of the businessmen of the world, as I understand. Just plain work. Sure there are goals to achieve, and business trips to take, and donuts in the conference room, but for all the build-up of the corporate ladder and office politics, the more I learn about careers the more I figure out that a lot of it is just...work.

Putting in a 40-hour workweek is something I will probably be doing for decades to come, but it was a fascinating change of pace from the college life. At school, there is a constant pressure, with constant deadlines - your responsibility doesn't even come close to ending when you leave the lecture hall.

For that reason, the 40-hour workweek seemed positive to me. Sure, 8 hours a day, 5 times a week is quite a commitment, but once you leave work, you're done with work. What a novel idea! I'd love to be able to have the luxury of separating my work life and family life down the road.

But of course, it's not all perfect. I can imagine how it could get monotonous at times, as I'm told by those around me who have started their careers. And yes, a lot of it is just work.

But maybe my current naivete and idealism about career life after college can serve me well. Maybe I will be able to find joy in the little details that I so jubilantly add to my life here and there. My dad's philosophies about not letting work interfere with faith and family have always resonated with me and served as a model for how I want to live my life in the future - even if it means denying an opportunity or accolade to better serve my Lord or the needs of my family.

So basically, while I make a big deal out of the little nuances of professionalism that strike me as exciting or interesting, I never want my job to be any higher of a priority than it should be. Here at Madison, there is an immense pressure to fully devote one's self to a trade, to show a true dedication to a line of study which would indicate an unquenchable ambition. But I'm reluctant to jump on that wagon. I understand what it would mean to give my all, to try my best, but to completely devote myself to a trade just to get ahead, just to cash in on success and pride and status? It doesn't appeal to me anymore. I'd rather not be defined by my work so much as by what kind of person I am, what kind of Christian I am, and, God-willing, what kind of husband and father I am.

I'd still like to succeed in whatever career field I end up in. I still fully intend to work hard at my studies and job. I just don't want it to be at the cost of those other, more important things. If I have to choose, I'd rather have my career be in the background to faith and family.

I'd rather it just be business as usual.