Love the Job you Hate

It is a particularly first world, 21st Century notion that one should quit a job he hates, and pursue his dreams.  "Choose a job you love, and you will never have to work a day in your life," Confucius is supposed to have said.   Maybe one who lived in the 500 BCs could have conjectured a notion that would resonate so soundly with 21st century career focused men whose next meal is not in question.  Maybe.

There is a young man producing videos in which he talks about his life-threatening illness, and he finishes each inspirational video with all the confidence and cache of a man who knows everything, which is true of most young men in their twenties.  (It certainly was of me.  I wish you'd known me then - I had an answer for everything and didn't suffer fools.)

His advice in his popular YouTube videos (apparently even Ellen Degeneres has seen them!) is to do what you love, quit the job you hate, and eat dessert first.   I agree with at least one of those, and it isn't the dessert part.  I do think that, if we have the luxury, we should do do the things we love and enjoy as often as reasonably possible, if not for a living then for recreation and fun; not selfishly and never without consideration for our responsibility to each other and to God.

Doing the Things You Hate to Do
There is a particular strength of character that comes from facing down the challenges which most frighten us, annoy us, cause despair or that we just plain can't stand.  Seeing the task through, with all it's unpleasantness, is a life lesson learned in small chunks that prepares us for the big challenges in life.  It's even more enlightening to do it around people we don't like, or who can't stand us.

Embrace the unpleasant.  You just might find it ain't so bad after all.

Dining with Her Majesty

When I was but a little lad my parents began the arduous task of forming me into a gentleman.  It began with discipline at the dinner table from an early age.  My mother insisted that her children learn to hold our cutlery properly, and eat and drink like ladies and a gentleman (I have two sisters and no brothers).  We spent hours, literally, at the table in conversation.

Mom's guiding stated principle was that her children, if invited to Buckingham Palace to dine with the Queen, would not be an embarrassment to her.  We would know how to hold our cutlery, engage in conversation, ask someone to pass a condiment and to sip our soup.

In my profession it is often that I invite clients out for a meal, attend galas and banquets, and when life is good and I'm not on the road, back in the office sharing lunch with the home team.  I rarely eat alone.  It astounds me when I occasionally see dreadful table manners.  I'm not looking for it, but sometimes it's hard to look away.

I'm not talking about ignoring one's table mates to text, check emails and social media.  I have been that boor and I'm not proud of it.  What surprises me is to find grown young adults who cannot hold a knife and fork properly.  They stab and saw, instead of holding a knife in their right hand and a fork in their left.  They put down the knife, having successfully butchered a hunk of meat to switch the fork to their right hand and then proceed to stuff it into their gaping maw.  Yeah, I know that sounds like I'm being judgemental, but here's the thing.  So are our well-mannered customers, and it could be the thing that loses the sale.

I appreciate this is a concept straight out of the sixties; that one's inability to dine with ladies and gentlemen higher up the social scale could tip the scales in favour of your competition who were raised properly, but it's the unfortunate truth.

It's simple.  Stop and look around the table.  Observe your best client, observe your industry peers or fiercest competition.  Ask yourself if you've been outclassed.

And then get some help, for God's sake.  You never know when an invitation to dine with the Queen will arrive.  I know I'm still waiting.

There Actually is Crying in Baseball

It was a funny line in a great movie.  "Are you crying?  There's no crying in baseball!" said Tom Hanks' character in A League of Their Own.  It became a popular saying for awhile; I've used it myself.

A favourite boss of mine used to use that line at work.  "There's no crying at work!" he'd say to preempt any tears he might encounter.  I'm no therapist, but sometimes I wondered whose emotions he was attempting to suppress.

There is crying in baseball, there is crying at work, there is crying when and where tears come.  In moderation and appropriately, it is not a sign of weakness.  Although less likely to, men may cry.  And ladies, it has nothing to do with the way we were raised that we don't cry often and freely.  We're men, that is the way we are, this is how we deal with it.  Deal with that.

Someone gets fired, a favourite co-worker or boss for example....I've seen tears and heard choked up announcements.  I've seen tears provoked by anger and by frustration, by pleading on behalf of another, and I admire the passion.  Eyes well up when bad news is shared, when good news is shared.  A catastrophic illness or the death of a team member or customer can bring tears in a close workplace or team. I cried when a direct report told me she was pregnant because I knew she and her husband had wanted that baby for so long; I don't think that makes me weak.

Let 'em flow....but then get back to business.

Be Nice to Your Boss

I have had a few bosses in my 38 years in the work force.

Just in the last 10 years I have had bosses whom I absolutely adored, the best boss I've ever had, the worst boss I'd ever had, a boss with whom a subordinate relationship shouldn't have worked but remarkably did, and a boss whom I consider to be a personal friend.  I would suspect that in three decades in management I have been one or all of these to others myself.

At some point in my career I learned to stop fighting the boss.  I can tell you exactly when it happened.  When the cross-section of professional responsiblity and personal maturity intersected, I realized that I had a duty to support my boss in every way I reasonably could.  That sometimes includes telling them when I think they're wrong, and sometimes included stopping by their office to pay them a compliment or provide some other word of encouragement.  It damned sure always included telling them when they'd pissed me off, and why.  And it always meant that engaging in gossip behind their back was a bad idea.  I'm not saying I never did it.  I'm saying I profoundly regret it because it absolutely accomplished nothing, and actually set us back and made the boss's job harder.

Look, I'm not the perfect employee - everyone of those boss's listed above would agree on that.  I like to believe I have always played full out.  What I write here is what I believe, although I was accused by former co-workers of being a self-serving liar and thief the last time I expressed loyalty to my boss.

To them, I invite them to (expletive edited) themselves hard.  And have a happy holiday.

Be nice to your boss.  It's been a long time since I reported to one who wasn't trying hard.

PS - I used some very rough language up there.  Not very deacon of me.  I feel a bit bad about that.  And.....I'm over it.  

The No Card

When I was studying at the seminary to glean my calling to be a deacon we were advised to "prune, prune, prune."  In other words, drop out of everything and concentrate on this one thing.  Naturally that didn't apply to family and work, but to all things church.  That was hard for most of us - dropping out of the choir, out of committees, out of a whole lot of busy work to concentrate on the important stuff.  (More about the freedom of discipline and liberation of obedience another time)

After ordination we were encouraged to play our "NO card".  Lots of people are going to ask us for lots of things, and being charitable souls our inclination is to say yes.  With a NO card you don't have to give it a second thought or toss and turn over "whether to or should I?"  You just play the card and go back to the core mission.

What was true of my spiritual vocation has also been true in my professional vocation and maybe in yours.  We get asked to take on increasing roles of responsibility in our associations if we've shown the slightest hint of enthusiasm and success in our committee roles - and that's OK.  But how do we know when enough is too much?  When is it time to say no?

I am a member of an organization that has seen at least 3 volunteer presidents in the last five finish out their year with shattered marriages.  It may not have been the tremendous work load on top of a tremendous work load that caused the marriage to fail, who knows what underlying issues were already in play? - but it certainly didn't help.

This is not to say that many, many people haven't been very successful in extending their passion at work to their entire industry through their professional association - I've met them and seen it done.  I admire them.  Their industry is better for it.  The reason they do it so well is that they also have a NO card which they play in other places at strategic times.

Not sure how to say no?  Here's a helpful blog from Adrian Granzella Larson with some tips...  http://www.forbes.com/sites/dailymuse/2014/09/15/just-say-no-7-canned-responses-to-use-at-work/

Last Time I Did That I Got Yelled At

"Last time I did that I got yelled at!"  No you didn't.  No you didn't.  Well, probably you didn't.

I sometimes hear that from the people I work with.  "I got yelled at.  I got in trouble."  No you didn't; in the last 20 years in the work force the only time anyone raised their voice was to be heard over the laughter.

Statements like that are indicative of a deeper issue - whether they red-flag a buried issue between supervisor and direct report, or a thin-skin.

Sue Shellenberger, in her blog post "How to Take Criticism Well" suggests that the ability to take criticism is a well-developed skill.  She includes a nifty chart on how to react, and what to do if you react badly.

Read the full article here:  http://goo.gl/uqmzj6

Who's My Bad Boss?

Had one.  Been one.  Hopefully in remission.  Working on it.

I look at all bad situations; a bad boss, difficult subordinate relationships, a challenging board; as growth situations.  That, however, requires an indefatigable positive attitude; an anticipation of success despite all evidence to the contrary.

Beyond the resume building aspect of surviving a bad work relationship I like keep it in perspective by factoring in "The Sitcom Factor."

It works like this.  When I'm at my wits end with someone I remind myself that if this was a sitcom and not real life we'd need a character like bad boss (or difficult employee, or angry customer, or demanding stakeholder) to move the plot along.

And then I go to a metaphorical commercial and take a break from the drama.

Here's a link to an article about bad bosses.  Read this:

Top Gun

A few years ago when I was a member of a small team I won a sales contest.  That didn't go over well with my team mates and when my name was announced the silence around the boardroom table was humiliating.  No applause.  I felt bad for my Director of Sales; I know she expected better from her team.  I will never know why it bothered anyone that I won not only the first leg, but the overall contest.

I have often wondered if it was because they believed they should have a chance at winning the contest without changing the 9-5 behaviour that was generating the lacklustre results that necessitated a contest in the first place.

When the contest was announced I made it my personal goal to win, for three reasons:

1. In support of the boss.  It was her idea.  If the contest flopped and failed to generate the sales results she hoped for, she'd look bad in front of her boss.  Our job is to make the boss look good, I think. Certainly life is better for everyone when we do. 
2. Because the reward was huge.  In fact, in that first month I won a gift certificate large enough that I planned to take the entire team out for lunch.  In the end I did take one sales manager, the one who shook my hand and congratulated me (albeit surreptitiously).  The grand prize was a Best Buy gift certificate that got me a nice camera, amongst other electronic cool things.  I don' mind admitting I'm motivated by more than altruism and teamism.  Teamishness.  Whatever.
3. I knew that if this contest produced the desired effect we would be in a position to crush the competition, finish the fiscal year in good shape, and the whole team would make bonus.

The reason I won was simple, and my friend and Top Gun Honda salesguy Erin, a man after my own heart, summed it up when he was telling me why he is the #1 sales guy 3 months in a row at his dealership and I suspect along that street of auto dealerships.  Erin said this:

"It is possible to beat me.  You just have to get to work before me, stay later than me, and work harder than I do."

I'll add one thing.  You have to want to.

Quantum Career Leaps

My wife and I used to love watching Scott Bakula leap every week when we watched Quantum Leap together.  I'm not sure it was for the same reason.

I loved how he'd often find himself painted into a corner, and at exactly the right time, be extricated (leap) whole and mostly unscathed.  Deus ex machina!  A time honoured Greek theatre tradition.

My best career leaps have happened because in real life I didn't get to exit at exactly the opportune moment.  Sometimes we have to stick around to clean up our own mess - in fact I highly recommend that to the young manager who knows everything.  Stick around and find out how wrong (and sometimes right) you were.

Looking back over 3 decades of promotions, terminations, lateral moves and taking the odd step backwards; of ego boosting and ego crushing outcomes; of fearlessness and anxiety - I'm kind of glad I'm not Scott Bakula.

My wife, I understand, may occasionally feel otherwise.

Correct a Little

Mixing faith and business...

There is a belief that a Catholic should not bring his or her faith into the workplace.

Horseshit.

Pope Francis recently quoted Pope John XXIII and if I hadn't been purposely reading a Catholic magazine there's no way I would have found this in the mainstream secular media.  It jumped out of the page.  He said,

"See everything; turn a blind eye to much; correct a little." 

I could have used this advice when I first started in management, and John XXIII expresed this Christian sentiment many years before that.  Had I been reading up on my faith as diligently as I was all those motivational books there might be far fewer apologies owed to those who reported to me over the last three decades.

See everything:  A manager's job is to see everything.  We either know what is or what was going on, or we ought to have known.  No excuses.  No avoiding responsibility by deliberately not knowing.

Turn a blind eye too much:  Here's my personal failing, while we're in the corporate confessional.  I have felt compelled to comment, correct and coerce obsessively all in the name of developing my direct reports.  In fact, I've been holding them back.  People need the opportunity to venture, discover, be right and be wrong.

Correct a little:  This is when we don't, or can't turn a blind eye for the good of the individual, the good of the company, and for our career.

I suspect the need to correct a subordinate is far less often than we think; certainly far less than I've felt necessary, to be truthful.

This quote from Pope John XXIII is radically different from almost every accepted management practice and wasn't specifically targeted to the workplace, rather to the church (the people of faith) to bring it into their families, communities and businesses.  Is there a place for a strong, practical, practicing Catholic faith in the workplace?

We can't afford there not to be.

(Sorry about that foul language up at the top.  There wasn't a better word.)

But What Will They Say When We're Gone?

I heard the tale of a long serving assistant around whom the entire operation revolved.  Nothing moved unless it had her stamp of approval, and in time nothing was created without her fingerprints all over it.  Give up any bit of control?  Not on her life.  People quit doing business with, or working for the company rather than deal with her.  And she was not management, not front line and possessed only institutional knowledge - she knew what she knew because it was all that she knew.

Eventually she overstayed her welcome, making one too many demand, playing one too many department heads against each other, and she was forced to flee to "a better job."  Many people mourned her loss and wondered how the company would ever survive without it's "heart and soul."  Many, many more kept silent and held their breath until she had walked out of the door for the last time.

And then life went on.  People discovered work unfinished.  Her manager began to realise just how many times she had thwarted his leadership.  The final landmine left for her successor was defused.  They're still cleaning up the mess she left behind, and some relationships will never be healed.

I like to occasionally use "hit by a bus" thinking - what would they find if I didn't have time to clean it up one last time because I was unexpectedly hit by a bus on my way back from Starbucks?  Am I proud of what I would leave behind?  Is there anything that needs to be fixed/cleaned up/finished RIGHT NOW?

Most of us are not like the exec assistant in our story.  They'll say good things about us after we're gone.

Sell the Truth

I guess we all know sales people who would rather lie than even admit a passing acquaintance with the truth.  From the gal who claims her product can do things it can't, to the guy I know who continues to lie about his marital status just to get his "hot" customers between the sheets, and/or onto the balance sheet.  (The same guy claims commission on purchase orders that don't exist, and adds notches to his belt for conquests he's never had.)

People lie because they're embarrassed by, or afraid of the truth.  Add one more reason for sales people to lie:  the truth they fear is that they're lousy sales people.

Sell the truth.  It takes more talent, it takes a little longer, you lose some sales until you realize that selling to the wrong customer may be part of the problem.  Once you focus your efforts, prepare,  build your product and market knowledge, the truth will set your fee; nice and high.

Sell the truth.  Watch this rant:  http://youtu.be/sr3NTmv5sIk

The Professionally Ambitious

There was a time when I worked for a large multi-national company that was making aggressive inroads into Canada.  I was a young, eager, hungry and tireless manager competing with countless others for the next promotion, and the one after that.

In a well established company, that level of ambition is a little harder to find.  Perhaps it's because everyone has a different start date (as opposed to the thirty of us who all began on the same day; surveying the room and and sizing up the competition).  Perhaps it's because opportunity comes less often when a business is growing slowly, or not at all.  Perhaps it's because there isn't a culture of ambition.

Whatever the case, I know two things to be true.

• Professionally ambitious people are rare.  I'm not talking about people who want a bigger salary, longer title, or a corner office.   I'm talking about people who feel it their moral professional duty to take on more responsibility for the good of the company, and for the good of their careers, and because they know no other way.   Those people are hard to find.
• If someone has expressed an interest to move out of their current position and up in the company, the leadership ignores him/her at their own peril.  They've basically given their notice by expressing a desire to move on, so the question has to be asked, "when he leaves this current position, will it be for another in this company, or for one at a competing company?"

If it doesn't matter, hasten the departure and help him to find a new job elsewhere, fast.  If we can honestly answer the question "do I want this guy competing against us?" with a "who cares?", then let him go.  

If he's worth saving, but not quite ready for promotion, then the leadership has a moral professional duty to 

• acknowledge the ambition
• redirect the ambition if necessary
• harness the ambition if a promotion isn't immediately in the cards
• encourage the ambition 
• support the ambition by working with the employee on a professional development plan

Most of all, we have the obligation,as leaders, to take our subordinates seriously.  If we don't, someone else will.  

Building Bridges

Whenever someone leaves his employ, someone else reminds him not to "burn any bridges."  I know a man who not only never burned a bridge, he built new ones.

He was one of the top managers in one of the top restaurants in the country.  Arguably, he was more known than his establishment, which suited the partners just fine - he brought in the guests.  He was a difficult man to work for if you were the kind of person who didn't believe in high standards, excellence in performance, and professionalism.  I don't have his permission to use his name, so let's call him Mr. Manager.  I thought of him as Mr. Mentor, and I've tried ever since to live up to his example.

And one day he gave his two weeks notice.  For me it was a death in the family.  It seemed like the next logical step was to close the establishment and call it a day.  Of course, that didn't happen but for a time I didn't know how I'd go on.  I did; we all did.

After he gave his notice, some of the staff started to slack off a bit.  Missing corkscrews, smudged aprons, carrying fewer than 3 pens, forgotten garnishes, loosened ties...things that seem small but that really matter.  Really.  He put a stop to it right away.  One of the waiters complained that he should lighten up, since he only had a few days left.  "What do you care?" he asked.  "You're leaving."

"Just because I'm leaving doesn't mean this isn't a four-diamond establishment," he said, as he worked full out until the last minute.  "Smarten up."

After he was gone, for years, the staff would remind the slackers, very seriously, "just because (he's) gone, doesn't mean this isn't a four-diamond establishment."

Indeed.

Quit Your Job at Least Once a Year

I have a friend who quits his job once a year.  Not literally, but once a year he comes in on a weekend and cleans up his office as if he's leaving it forever.  He knows if he did it when the team was in the office he'd spend more time answering questions than cleaning up.

He imagines what it would be like for his successor to go through old files, and gets rid of the ones that he hasn't touched in a year and probably will never need to look at again; stuff that jusn't essential.  This isn't sensitive material, more like flyers and convention handouts, expired projects and old reports.

He organizes his current files and projects with summaries using the "hit by a bus" method.  You know the one.  If I was hit by a bus today, could someone step right in and take over?  The side benefit is he sometimes discovers files he's neglected, and has booked new business by reaching out to old customers accidentally forgotten.

He goes through his off-line and deletes the non-essential photos and files that he once thought were important enough to save.  His every year is organized off-line and he dumps the third year file, keeping two years and the current one.  This year, 2012, he deleted 2009; again, non-essential stuff only.  I think IT should send him a medal just for clearing up space on the company server.

Finally, he tidies up the junk and pictures and giveaways on his desk and credenza, and begins on Monday as if he was walking into the office for the first time, and every year he gets better at keeping it uncluttered.

Of all the time managment tips and tricks I have learned over the years, this one seems the most practical.  And if the day ever comes that he has to leave, he's got a lot less packing to do before he goes.

And Here's the Pitch

There's a guy I know, a pro, the kind of guy you want working for you, who has never been seriously recruited by anyone.  Oh sure, he's had off-the-cuff offers that amount to little more than cocktail party chatter.  He's had desperate headhunters ring him up, "do you know anyone who might be interested...?"  He got his current position the same way he has ever landed any job - he applied for it, successfully.  He hears stories of his peers lured away to the competition, but had started to believe it was all exaggeration and rhetoric.

And then he got the call.  The serious call.  The top guy at the competition called my friend at home, after hours, and told him he wanted him to take a serious promotion and leave his current company to do so.  There'd been cocktail party promises from middle management and low-level executives from this company in the past that my friend had acknowledged and ignored, but this was not that.  This was an actual invitation from a decision maker to advance his career in a way that increasingly seemed impossible in his current, otherwise happy state of affairs.

He asked me what I thought, and I called up the only baseball metaphor I could think of.

If it's a perfect pitch and you don't swing at the ball, it's still a strike.  Do that enough times and you're out without ever having moved an inch.  You can take yourself off the market and lessen your market value (even to your current employer) simply by doing nothing.

As an old boss told me wistfully when I submitted my resignation in search of a career growth elsewhere, "sometimes you have to move, to improve."

Best wishes, old pal. 

Meet the New Boss

A guy once faced a predicament in his career.  Shortly into a new position, he found himself reporting to a guy whom he had once fired in another organization. 

"Aren't you worried about reporting to me, considering what happened before?" asks newly promoted to his former boss, now his subordinate.  The first shot is fired, but at least it's out in the open.  Frankly, my friend was pretty impressed with his apprentice, 10 years his junior.

"No," he responds. 

"Why not?" asks the new boss.  "I would be."  And my friend laid it all on the line at that very moment. 

"Because I raised you right," he says bluntly, having chosen his words deliberately, "and I know you'll do the right thing."  He's not known for beating around the bush. 

Condescending?  Not at all.  Stupid?  It didn't turn out to be.

If we've treated people with integrity, empathy and respect we have every right to expect it back no matter where we are in the corporate hierarchy.


What goes around inevitably comes around.  We shouldn't have to duck when it does.

Raise Your Right Hand

I know a sales guy who has worked his way on to the agenda of almost every orientation session at his rather large company.  They produce experiences, and most new associates wouldn't even think they'd need a sales guy whose only job is to sell the world renowned memories they make.  Sales guy will work sales missions around orientations just to be available to spend a few minutes with the newest members of the team.

He tells them what he does, and then gives them the tour and sells them on the value of what they'll be doing.  He answers all questions openly.  He does such a thorough job that most employees aspire to be customers themselves, and this is not an inexpensive proposition.  But sales guy wants their friends, family and neighbours to be customers too, and he wants referrals.  So he asks the new folks to raise their right hands.

"I now deputize you as official sales people at XX company," he solemnly intones.  It always gets a laugh.  Some of these people will never come face to face with a customer, and others will have contact daily.  Even an overnight janitor is deputized.

"You are all now officially part of the sales team," he says.  "If you meet someone who you think could benefit from what we do here, let me know.  You don't have to remember my name, just remember there's a guy here who does what I do.  All you have to do is call the company switchboard and ask for that sales guy.  They know how to find me."

Not only do most of his coworkers remember his name, but he gets some pretty decent referrals that have lead to some amazing business for the company.

Everyone sells.  Some of us just do it for a living.

The Saturn Way

For a time I sold cars at Saturn.  For some people, those cars were absolutely perfect, reliable and the level of service we provided was exceptional. 

We had a General Manager, Rob, who used to admonish us to behave in "the Saturn way."  This unofficial and nebulous standard of professional behaviou referred to integrity, self-assurance, customer focus, teamwork and joy.  It was more often measurable by it's occasional absence.

If a salesperson ever was tempted to take advantage of a customer, Rob would ask "is that the Saturn way?"  The process demanded truth and full disclosure.  If one of us tried to sell a car without first listening to the customer's needs, Rob would remind us "that's not the Saturn way." The Saturn way was all about determining customer needs, not hastily acting on a hunch.  It wasn't about one sale, it was about a satisfied customer for life (many of whom remain friends to this day).  Heaven help us if we tried to cut corners, or if anyone gossiped behind a coworker's or customer's back.  That was definitely not "the Saturn way".  I'm not saying it didn't happen, I'm saying none of us wanted to be thought of doing things other than the Saturn way.

The car is gone from General Motors now and arguably so is the ideal, but from time to time in my current occupation I can hear a voice in my head asking me "is that the Saturn way?"  If the answer is yes, then I know we have ourselves a great deal and probably a lasting customer friendship.

Do it Like I'm Doing it for Free

"Is it ethical?"  It was a simple, complicated question.  My buddy had just accepted a position on a fundraising board and had all sorts of ideas, some of which he worried might be in conflict with his professional position.  In effect, his plan to raise money for his favourite charity would bring him into contact with a similar segment he professionally mines for business, albeit not likely the same customers.  He was on-fire, as they say.  He couldn't wait to tell me about it.

I was intrigued by the enthusiasm he was showing, essentially to use the same skills for which he gets paid "in real life"  but for free, on his own time and for a cause.  He has a very aggressive prospecting plan and a well considered fundraising strategy.  He has to; the goal is several million dollars.

I wondered, though.  If the skills are the same as the ones he uses every day, then why does he never appear to be this inspired by his job?

The talk turned to tough personal questions about our own careers.  The answers gave us a clearer picture of what we really have to work on this year; ourselves, our attitudes, our motivation.

• "Am I still excited by my career?"  (like when I first started out)
• "What could I accompish if I didn't know better?" (you know, like before "reality" set in)
• "Do I have a strategy to increase sales that is imaginative, focused and benchmarked?"  (like my friend's fundraising campaign has to be)
• "Do I have a challenging goal?"  (the Everest goal, I call it - a difficult, killer, inspiring and worthy goal that few will ever accomplish, maybe not even me)
• "Do I believe so strongly in my product and service that it ain't about the money?" (so I'm not just working for a paycheque) 

How would our workday look if we did our jobs for a higher cause?  Don't we?  What are we waiting for?