Get off my lawn!

The title of this post probably conjures up an image of a crotchety old man in a tshirt, work pants with a gardening implement of some sort in his hand, fist held high and shaking, yelling at a group of hooligans who dared breach his property line and tread on his finely coiffed yard. Gather two or three of these geezers in one location and the disdain they hold for these trespassing ruffians becomes palpable. After two or three rounds at the bar the act of short cutting across ones property becomes a sign of the impending crash of modern civilization when control of the economy, government and education systems is turned over to the next generation.

During the recent presidential election, a fair amount of commentary was centered on the generational differences between The ONE and John McCain. McCain was the old school hard property line protecting curmudgeon who supposedly couldn't even send an email and a fan of fences and Obama was a BlackBerry wielding, Hip Hop filled MP3 player carrying baby boomer full of new ideas and energy who couldn't wait to walk across the White House lawn.

I don't think any generation, as they see their control slipping away, feels there progeny worthy of carrying on in a way that befits their standards for running the world. I know I look at the current class of graduates and know my tax dollars have been misused by the government run schools. These bozos know less than James "Handyman" Taylor about history, biology or any of a number of subjects. They are first rate at Internet surfing, sexting and being Green but common sense isn't so common among their ranks.

I was at McDonald's glaring at a group of pants half off their ass and underwear showing nimrods trying use basic math skills to see if their combined change was enough for a Big Mac and fries when a realization hit me. My parents generation had the same lack of faith in my peers as I do in these brain dead adolescents. And it is my generation now taking over. The newly elected first ever African American President is my age.

I look at the work ethic of the new administration, and the lack of ethics displayed by recent nominees, and think perhaps my parents were right to doubt us. So far the best they can come up with is "I won". Think that is a harsh opinion? It has been but a few weeks that The ONE has been at the helm and newspapers, television and the net are all running stories about the "stir crazy" or antsy President and how he and Michelle had to "escape" from the White House bubble. The spendalooza package was passed by the Senate tonight. This, as stated by the President at a "we can have a five star retreat on the public's dime but the banks better not" Democratic meeting yesterday, has to be passed or it will be a catastrophe. Obama wasn't around to comment even though he claimed to be involved in this mess. It is Friday and that is date night for him and Michelle. I am all for putting family first but...come on.

Kool-aid drinkers will say these are not examples of a poor work ethic. True. They are symptomatic of a lack of professionalism and outright arrogance in my opinion. This man, with his months of Senate experience before he started campaigning, is now at the helm of a pretty large economic machine that is having engine problems and he thinks he is a mechanic. His stubborness at keeping his BlackBerry, showing up late to everything and continued breaking of campaign promises may not be signs of a lack of work ethic. They are signs of immaturity and arrogance and, if the press ever decides to do its job and take an impartial look at him, the bloom will soon be off the Rose.

Thankfully there are Republicans (and 11 Democrats in the House) who are acting like adults. Uncle Mitt chimed in too with old man sage advice regarding the spendalooza. The newer, younger members of our elected glitteri seem to have forgotten the philosophies and principles of the Founding Fathers and are ignorant of any struggle older than the Pepsi Generation.

And with all those damn kids cutting through the White House Rose Garden, it could be a while until our economic grass is greener. I have to stop now, my head is like an Alaskan volcano and about to erupt.

S2

Two steps forward, one step back. What a stupid dance.

I thought technological advances were supposed to make our lives easier. Sure I can use my GPS to find where the closest donut shop is to Salt Lake City Police headquarters or search for a web cam that will show me the surf on Oahu's North Shore while waiting for my plane to be de-iced in the Minneapolis airport. But for every advance there seems to be an equally innovative way to keep us from enjoying the benefits of frequent flier miles and hotel points. Things like voice mail, text messaging and email on Blackberrys.

To quote the slogan on Research in Motions web page "Connect to everything you love in life through the power of a BlackBerry® smartphone." The only problem with connecting to everything I love is that the connection is a two way street. I need to have my phone on in order for my wife to remind me she doesn't want whip cream on her Frappacino that I am picking up from Starbucks. This open connection also allows the CEO to send a quick little email assigning me a rather important task that needs to be done ASAP. So soon that I better cut my weekend short and head to our Las Vegas office a day early to work on it. At least I could use the wireless network here at the house to log on to the airlines web site and change the ticket! Talk about convenient!

New products constantly promise us time savings and more freedom. Getting out of the office is great except the damn office is now right in our pocket. There is no escaping it. If is see one more guy on a ski lift trying to show off how important he is that the office has to call him on the slopes by talking loudly on his cell phone about inane decisions that would be better made by flipping a coin I am going to scream. Then I am going to tip him over and watch him flop on his back like Ralphie's little brother in a Christmas Story.

The work week is long enough and getting longer. The "statistics" may show the week is less than forty hours but consider these survey results of small business managers:

· 68 percent work on their days off

· 51 percent work on holidays

· 21 percent work while eating dinner

· 18 percent read work-related documents and email "while in the bathroom!"

I actually heard a flush the other day while talking to a co-worker on the phone.

No man can serve two masters. Most of us have families as well as careers and we are slaves to both. It important that, in the quest for advancement in the corporate world, we don't see retreats on the home front. We need to weigh carefully our time, attention and especially our devotion. We also need to weigh in after hitting the donut shop on the way home from paying our parking tickets. Even in this supposedly declining economy, jobs are a dime in a bakers dozen glazed Krispy Kremes but the "love's of your life" tend to be unique.

As bosses, remember that when you are texting your employee on Sunday while at the first tee the recipient of that communication could very well be loading the car to take the son he sees only on weekends to the baseball game. Or, he could be sound asleep with cucumbers on his eyes and a facial full of exfoliating creme but to each his own. The quest for more leads us to demand more. Let's be sure it doesn't leave us with less.

I personally love my job. In fact, I am starting a new position in the company the week after next. This position promises a little bit more money, a lot more exposure to senior management; and along with that exposure I am sure there will be a lot more Saturday and Sunday messaging. I can live with that; for a while.

Living in Utah, the opportunity for adventure is but a few miles down the road. I have access to World Class Skiing, premiere rock climbing and beautiful backcountry where the only souls I see are my wife and two dogs. I remind myself that, sure, technology provides the office a way to contact me at nearly any time. But they won't know where it is that I am talking to them from. I promise to not talk on the ski lift. I just need to remember to hang up before I flush.

S2