Had a great dinner last night

 

Well the food was just OK, but the company was, as always a lot of fun.

I met with a several former co-workers for beer. We used to do this often, but as our lives and jobs have taken up more of our time we’ve not been able to get together as often.

We talked, laughed, and caught up.

At one point the conversation turned to the children. One of the guys, who was always a bit rough around the edges has become wrapped up, or perhaps I should say wrapped around his 3 year old daughters finger.

It’s cool… and astounding to see the change. He goes into work at 5 am so that he can leave work around 3 or 4. The reason, He goes home and back to work as the power source for her little red wagon.

Every day he pulls her in the wagon to the park and they spend a couple of hours playing together.

Given the man, who’s a rough edged, growly, dude who could make some sailors blush with his colorful use of “shit”, “Fuck”, and other expletives, it’s a hard thing to reconcile.

Seeing him as a gentle doting daddy is different and a bit weird. I’ve always known he was a good man, and I’ve always suspected that he was really a softy beneath a rough exterior, I guess I was right. Even as I write this I’m smiling. His whole demeanor changed when he was talking about his little girl.

The conversation turned to loyalty, friendship and helping others.

Each of us has helped other people. Sometimes overtly, sometimes subtly.With very few exceptions we’ve not been thanked for our intervention. Obviously, if we intervened subtly we don’t expect thank you or even acknowledgement. But if someone has asked for your help, you expect at least a “Thanks”.

I’d never thought much about it before but realized that more often than not I tend to intervene quietly behind the scenes.

I never expect any kind of thanks. In fact if I’m busted and someone does thank me for helping them out,  I ‘m usually confused because it’s well after the fact and I’ve moved on.

During the conversation, my friends shared stories where they’d helped folks out directly with their careers or personal lives. They were commenting on the shocking lack of even a “Thank You” and how the people they had helped discarded them when they were of no further use.

One of the guys “Busted” me a few years ago for something I did for him. The event he busted me for happened ten years ago and I was doing what I thought was in the best interest of everyone concerned.

He was laughing and saying that he thought I had it right. “You do shit for people that you think have potential and you do it quietly never expecting anything in return.”

I was reminded of the Futurama episode where Bender is lost in space and is first  worshipped as god then encounters “god”. The closing scene is “god” chuckling and musing “When you do it right… they’re not sure you’ve done anything at all.”

I explained that it was a lot easier that way. An added perk is that it’s also completely guilt free.

My theory is this; If you try to help someone and THEY KNOW then sometimes they abdicate responsibility for their fate. Quite often they will simply have the expectation that you’re going to fix their shit and then they’re disappointed and hold YOU responsible when things don’t work out exactly according to their expectation.

Alternatively, if someone doesn’t know that you’re helping them, they tend to remain in control of their fate and don’t make YOU responsible for the outcome. Since they’ve remained in control they grow as people.

Another point is this, if everyone thinks you’re a heartless evil bastard then – No one will ask you for help, and you get to choose only those people that you see potential in.

I personally have no desire to help every waste of DNA from the shallow end of the gene pool. It’s not worth my time and ultimately leads to morons having an overinflated sense of their own importance. Examples: Government, Aerospace, Banking. “Too big to fail”…. MY ASS.

We all had a good laugh about the rise of Morons to power.

We know why we’re not in the VP/Director upper management slots. We actually know how to do the work! All of us are the kind of people that get shit done no matter what. That means we will never be VPs or Directors because we’re too valuable to the companies we work for in our current slots… in the trenches.

The funniest part of it is our salaries will never reflect that value. We will always have some manicured, 3 thousand dollar suit wearing idiot telling us how to do our jobs. Said idiot making an appearance when we have a flashlight in our mouth, both hands full of some expensive equipment and tools, demanding a “Status update” exactly 5 minutes after the last idiot asked the same question. (Oh how many time have I been lying under a rack of equipment listening to a moron enumerate the importance of fixing whatever was broken in a timely fashion and wanted to say “Yeah, you want this shit fixed? then suck my dick!”) I think all of the workers have been there with the over educated MBAs that populate middle and upper management.

As dinner progressed, we continued talking. The discussion crossed lines that only real Friends can cross. We challenge and stimulate each other and don’t always agree with each others view of religion, life, or politics. But as friends we can go there and not be concerned that someone’s feelings are going to get hurt.

We all pretty much agreed.

Friends are your extended family. and unlike your genetic family, they’re the people that you choose to be involved with. You make the effort to be there for their life events because of desire not obligation.

The best friends are the folks that you wouldn’t hesitate to call in the middle of the night to bail your sorry ass out of jail. You also know that on the walk of shame and the ride home they’re not going to say a word about it.

In the comfortable silence after dinner and while finishing the last pitcher of beer I realized that these men were very good people and I was as proud to be called their friend as I was to call them my friends.

I felt all warm and fuzzy about it, But I’m a dude… it was probably just the beer.