A Facebook comment on a post promoting my latest TTAG piece brought back something I haven't thought about in, like, forever: My first management fail. More specifically, it was a Woody Woodpecker avatar that got me to remembering.
Back when I was probably around seven, falling for an offer on the back of a box of Rice Krispies, I enrolled in the Woody Woodpecker Club. My Mom wouldn't let me spend 50 cents on the hat, but I did get the ring and a membership card. I seem to remember the ring had a Woody stamp that would allow you to officially mark things.
Having all the official trappings of office, I formed my chapter. Since I had the One Ring of Power, I appointed myself President, and offered my older sister and two neighbor kids the opportunity to serve as minions.
Right out of the starting gate, the first meeting did not go well. Even though I was clearly President, because it was my idea and I had officially recognized status and everything, the insubordinate underlings wouldn't obey me when I tried to boss them, as was my clear right! Within moments I ended up sequentially yelling "You're fired!" at all three, saving the loudest termination for my sister, who by that point had become not just rebellious, but actually insolent, if you can believe it.
There I sat self-deposed and fuming, with no one to rule over, plotting my revenge against those ingrates. At least I still had the Precioussss...
My excuse is I was a kid. You have to wonder about "adults" who still make a point of showing everyone their rings, and issuing arbitrary commands to a membership that's not allowed to quit.
Even though I like to think I have lost all desire to control others, recalling this makes me realize I haven't quite shaken the cravings for power. I just emailed my sister the links to the old Kelloggs offer with the message "It’s not too late to apologize, promise to start obeying and reapply."
Let's see if she's matured any since then, and is willing to make some reasonable, common sense compromises.
5 comments:
Sister Management is not for the faint of heart nor weak of will. My best wishes go with you, but I have yet to recover the platform shoes my sister abducted back in the '80s. My disco life has just not been the same ever since.
Some of US grow up and fill adult shoes and there are too many who do not, but then where else would feral government find leaders? Imagine how that $.50 investment might have changed everything.
That was such a hoot to read!
A friend of mine was in a punk band around that time that pretty much expresses my sentiments about the Saturday Night Fever era...
My dad, being the realist he was, told my mother, "It makes no difference what we name this kid, people are going to call him Woody anyway." Back in the 40s and 50s I was subjected to the Woody Woodpecker song and "ya-dada-dada" on a regular basis. I did enjoy the read.
[W3]
David, you will never completely shake that desire. It is a lust common to all mankind.
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