Monday, July 11, 2011

People always need windows..

My best man Miles called today - out of the blue. Always a tonic, he told me about his all expenses paid week in Mauritius with other members of a 'Platinum Club' of salesmen. This group is comprised of the most effective members of the sales team at Albion Windows and Miles almost gave himself a sickener of champagne and lunchtime mojitos.

The platinum reward had been for Miles plus one. He had nobly offered the opportunity to me. 

Maude vetoed it:

‘You’re a lightweight – you’ll never keep up with him.’

I suspect Mrs Miles had that very quality in mind when she suggested my name.  Miles took his brother-in-law instead – still finding a way to please Mrs Miles.

It now feels, however, like a missed networking opportunity. I might have osmotically absorbed some sales nous from the platinum chaps in readiness for my impending, and as yet undefined, new direction. I ventured to Miles that my years of experience helping to take art to the undercultured had made me virtually unemployable.

‘I was in the same boat son. Just sell windows! Anyone could do it. Not everyone can do it to ‘platinum’ standard, obviously. But people are staying put in their houses and - at some point - people always need windows.’

I dictated my email address to Miles. He promised to email something guaranteed to make me soil myself with mirth.

‘I’ll just bang it straight into my i-pad 2’ .

As susceptible as the next man to the seductive appeal of new technology, I asked a few questions about the 'spec' on his new machine. Over the course of several minutes he gave me the low-down on what the machine took only several seconds to ‘rip through’. I then made the mistake of asking when he bought his i-pad – forgetting  his status as a prominent member of the Albion Platinum Club.

‘I didn’t buy it, bonny lad. I achieved it.’

Friday, July 01, 2011

Redundancy Roadshow

Why does every event that travels have to be described as a ‘roadshow’?

Where is the ‘show’ element in a room full of people being told that they are being made redundant and then being told in great detail how they will be made redundant? 

It’s more an ‘end-of-the-road’ show.

I thought that my last visit to our National Office was to be my last visit to our National Office, but a final invitation was made by Dave when we met a couple of weeks ago. He told me in his best sober tone that a ‘roadshow’ had been developed to support staff ‘at this depressing time’.  I was reminded of Dave yesterday. During a drama project evaluation some extrovert Year 6 children showed me their best ‘serious faces’.

They should have asked me to programme the roadshow content. I would have taken my lead from ‘The Producers’ and produced a bona fide 'show' : 

‘P45: The Musical’. 

The big number would be a redundant rabble rouser to the tune of ‘YMCA’ with a chorus of ‘P-forty-five’ and a dance routine spelling that out in human form. It could sweep the nation - an 'Agadoo' for our times.