How many places have you worked that claimed, "We only hire the best"? A few, I'll be willing to bet. Now, if you worked for various employers in the same industry, that's an interesting proposition. How they all manage to hire "the best" must take a skill akin to that of Santa Claus, who manages to be in every mall you visit at Christmastime.
Nifty trick, that.
Not that I'm suggesting that you aren't, in fact, the best. For all I know, you are, and who am I to insist otherwise? Booyah: Go, you. Seriously. Me, I know darned well that I'm not. I merely have the proverbial Midwestern work ethic, and I've learned to time my (very) occasional prima-donna hissy-fit for maximum impact. For where I work, that is, mercifully, enough for most situations.
Yes, I understand that no one wants to tell their employees, "We hire losers," or even "We hire the B-list" or anything like that. That's just egregiously nasty--not to mention stupid. Yes, I also understand that managers want to encourage pride in a job well done and esprit de corps and all due etc. There's certainly nothing wrong with that.
But imagine what it would be like to actually have the best working for you. How would you treat the rock stars you're lucky enough to have on your payroll?
Rock star employees don't work in cube farms. 'Nuff said.
Rock star managers--I dare suggest--live in the hub of the workplace, keeping their finger on pulses, ears to the ground, their weather eyes peeled for trouble, yadayadayada. (Kind of like Twister, but with more sensitive body parts involved.) They do not wall themselves off in a corner office, with an administrative assistant for sentry duty.
Rock star anythings aren't paid "competitive" wages--everyone else is supposed to compete with them.
And, by the bye, Real rock stars have roadies to do the (literal) heavy lifting. They most emphatically do not have to dodge the interference of the martinets or kowtow to the gatekeepers just to get their friggin' work done.
Maybe it's just me with a burr under my tail today, but I would really appreciate it if Corporate America would keep its Lake Wobegon fantasies to itself and stop insulting my intelligence with them. Because for me, at least, the repeated lie does not become the truth; it only makes me loathe the liar exponentially more with each repetition.
* For those who don't happen to follow Minnesota Public Radio's A Prairie Home Companion, Lake Wobegon is the "Gateway to Central Minnesota," where "...all the women are strong, all the men are good-looking, and all the children are above average."
