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The names of the participants in the following story have been
changed to those of cartoon characters to protect their
identities. This report filed on behalf of another employee, who
wishes to remain undercover.
MIKE HAMMER AND THE INVISIBLE MAN
I had just spilled some coffee from the morning's third cup
all over a table in the core 4 smoking room. The murky brown
liquid flowed like a giant amoeba, its shape ever changing, as it
closed in on my notebook. I was able to save the notebook but in
the process a business card had fallen from my shirt pocket into
the pool of coffee.
"Mike Hammer. Private Detective." the card read, or at least
it used to. Now it was nothing more than a soggy blob of
cardboard.
As I threw the crumpled wet business card into the nearest
trash can, something caught my eye. "Not doing enough at the
analyst level. Invisible again." It was nothing more than a
discarded yellow post-it note but something about it intrigued me.
"Who is this Invisible Man?" I thought to myself. I had to
know more.
I didn't have many clues to work from but by putting my
superior investigative skills to use I was soon hot on the trail
of a prime suspect. His name was Roger Rabbit and he was
definitely up to something.
At first I kept a distance, being careful not to arouse
suspicion, and waiting for the suspect to make himself invisible.
Weeks went by. He was hard at work past six o'clock most nights
and even past seven o'clock on several occasions.
"For someone 'not doing enough at the analyst level' this
person was exceptionally busy" I reasoned. "Perhaps he was making
sculptures out of paper clips or rubber balls out of elastic bands
during all this time."
I decided to throw caution to the wind and move in on my
suspect. Maybe there was more to the case then just the
invisibility issue. I intently studied every move that Roger
Rabbit made from then on in.
Most of his time seemed to be tied up working on a project
called 'Stocking Strategy'. During the month of March, I observed
the suspect working on the following aspects of the project.
o Did an analysis to determine if Stockroom 11 could handle
non-AD/CU activity, based on the previously established
Internal Rate of Return.
o Did a set-up analysis to determine if Stockroom 11 could
handle non-AD/CU kit activity in a Build To Exact Demand
environment.
o Did an analysis concerning the storing of material within
the stockroom by product family, which subsequently was
not recommended.
o Developed a test plan to systemically check the data
integrity and plan the implementation of Phase I of the
Stocking Strategy.
o Wrote the level 2 documentation for Phase I of the
Stocking Strategy.
o Participated in a sub-team which devised the Phase I user
spec as well as on another sub-team which looked at how
orders would be printed, so as to ensure that all bin
information was correct.
o Wrote the complex FEX (37 blocks) which will be used to
generate replenishment pull signals during Phase II of the
project.
Still, I had yet to see the suspect become invisible.
Besides the Stocking Strategy project, he appeared to be doing a
lot of work writing FEXes; some for himself, some for his own
group and projects he was working on, and others for outside
groups such as Media Manufacturing and Incoming Inspection.
A few of the FEXes that I recall off the top of my head are
the;
o Capital equipment cycle count FEX (for Garfield the cat).
o Simulation for projected new bin additions off of the
current Demand Pull FEX (for Betty Boop).
o FEX for pieces delivered by Stockroom WMO to Distribution,
Kit Assembly, Window Service, etc. (for Leonardo - the
ninja turtle).
o Month to date inventory adjustments by stockroom (for
Inventory Control.)
o Media Manufacturing set up analysis (for Fred Flintstone).
There were, however, a couple of times during the month when
I thought that I had the suspect nailed. He gave a presentation
to Tom & Jerry's Order Filling staff as well as assisting Fred
Flintstone in presentations to Bugs Bunny's staff and the Class A
Operations meeting. They were the perfect opportunity for him to
pull his invisible act, yet nothing happened.
Disillusioned at spending an entire month on the case with no
results, I decided to confront the suspect directly. He was
coming out from a CD-ROM sub team meeting where they had just
defined the Dock-to-point-of-use process when I cornered him.
"The name's Hammer. Mike Hammer." I said, flashing my
detective's badge. I explained how I had been following him all
month, waiting for him to turn invisible. This had become more
than a case. It was now an obsession.
"You mean that you were around when I was at Roadrunner's
pilot team for putting different part numbers on the same P.O. and
when I was updating the cycle count process documentation and
assisting in the group audit of our cycle count processes?" he
queried bewilderedly.
"Yes, I was there then and all the other times in between as
well." I answered. "I wanted to see you become invisible."
"I can't become invisible." he shot back, his eyes piercing
through me as if I were an alien life form from the planet
Beldorf. "Where'd you get that idea?"
I told him the whole story; from the spilled coffee and the
post-it note in the trash can ... all the way up until the
present.
The rabbit was cooperative and the pieces quickly started to
fall into place. It all began when Kit Assembly supervisor, Olive
Oyl, made a request for help in order to make customer shipments.
Roger Rabbit had volunteered to work on the line for a day.
"Why did you do that?" I asked him, returning the Beldorfian
stare he had given me moments earlier.
"I was just trying to be a leader." Roger Rabbit shrugged.
"There's been a lot of talk about satisfying the customer.
Rhetoric is easy but actions speak louder than words. I was
trying to be a "doer".
Inquisitively, I asked him what happened.
"Well, I had an open calendar for one particular day and I
made a commitment to Olive that I would give her 100% of my time
for that day. I wasn't really looking forward to it but I felt it
was the right thing to do. The right thing to do isn't always the
easy thing to do." Roger retorted. He went on to expound about
"values" within the Manufacturing Big Picture. It wasn't a lengthy
philosophical sermon. It was one sentence; quick and to the
point.
"Honesty: We always do what's right."
"What happened next?" I inquired.
"Well, at the eleventh hour someone scheduled a meeting
during the day which I had committed to Olive, so I sent a reply
that I wouldn't be able to attend. The next thing I knew,
management was asking me not to work in Kit Assembly. It was
after that when I found out about the statements questioning the
amount of work I had done at the analyst level and my alleged
translucent nature."
"Didn't that bother you?" I pushed on, sensing a certain
level of frustration.
Roger quizzically looked off into space before responding.
"At first it did but I suppose I have to consider the source.
I've realized I just have to keep trying to do the right thing.
Right now, I'm just trying to do my best and lead by building
other people's capabilities, inspiring others to 'go beyond the
nine dots' in reaching a solution, and leading by example while
giving 100%."
I wondered what he had meant by "consider the source", so I
did some more leg work. The response I received from the entire
group was practically unanimous when I inquired about the source.
"Oh Goofy? He's totally out of touch with the Inventory Control
group" was the most common response.
So much for The Invisible Man.
I couldn't believe I had made such a rookie mistake. That's
the last time Mike Hammer goes on a wild goose chase without first
considering the source.
As I was about to head back to the office to start on another
case I saw Roger Rabbit talking to his better half, Jessica, in
the parking lot.
I quickened the pace of my walk in the hopes of asking Roger
just one more question before I left. "How do you keep motivated
amongst all this chaos?" I asked nonchalantly, trying not to
interrupt his conversation.
His reply was quick and to the point. "There's a credo that
I follow. It isn't an easy one but I believe in it. It's from
George Bernard Shaw and goes something like this ...
The reasonable man adapts himself to the world; the
unreasonable one persists in trying to adapt the world to himself.
Therefore, all progress depends on the unreasonable man."
As I headed over towards my car, thinking about Roger Rabbit,
another saying came to mind.
You can always tell the pioneers. They're the ones lying
face down ahead of you with an arrow in their back.
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| The names have been changed to cartoon names to protect the
identities.
MIKE HAMMER and A Big Cheese from Big Town
The local boss, Rocket Squirrel, had called a meeting of his
"boys" -- there was a dame there too, Olive Oil. The purpose of
the meet: The boss wanted some of the "boys" to tell the rest of
us goons all what was happening, especially about new territories
being developed, new goods to be marketed.
I was there too. Hammer's the name. Mike Hammer. Private
Detective. Corrector of wrongs, justice for all. You get the
drift.
The morning was quiet. Too quiet, maybe, looking back. I
couldn't help but feel that the pastries served at the meet were
somehow to fatten us up -- for something. The coffee was strong,
as usual. I put a cup away and two pastries -- I believe in
being a well-rounded detective -- helps career prospects.
The morning proceeded with typical presentations. Lunch came and
went. Uneventful. The afternoon session continued.
Then, it was 2:00 p.m. Bullwinkle Moose was now to give his
presentation. Bullwinkle was one of those softspoken types,
never known to raise his voice, never known to lose his temper,
and never known to kill a fly. He was new to the gang and some
of the boys weren't sure he was tough enough for working in
DECtown.
How tough he was, we were about to find out.
At 2:05, the door burst open!
It was a Big Cheese from Big Town! Batman! A heavyweight
lieutenant boss, high in the organization. He walked in with his
entourage of guns. "Hiya, boys. Don't mind if I sit in, do ya?"
He was all smiles. Many of us familiar with Batman had looked to
him as a hero of the grunts in the trenches.
Nobody said nuttin'. It seems that Batman, being in town, had
been invited by Rocky to sit in on Rocky's sit-down with his
local people.
Bullwinkle said welcome. He began his presentation.
We shoulda knowed right away there was going to be trouble.
The moose was NOT usin' official DEC 3M overheads with bullets!
He was trying to "chalk talk" his way through the intracacies of
his presentation without overhead bullets! Some of us gasped.
The moose decided to elaborate first on the problems of his
project in order to tell us where we've been, where we were at,
and then the work yet to be done to make the project successful.
2:10 p.m. Only a couple of minutes had passed.
Suddenly, Big Cheese Batman leaned forward, his hand dippin'
inside his jacket.
""Goddamn it! I don't have to listen to this bull%$#&! Get to
what's goin' on to develop the territory!" he snarled loudly. He
was yellin' so loudly that we was to find out later that many
outside the closed room for the meet had heard Batman.
Bullwinkle looked at Batman squarely and said that he needed to
first let us know about the problem first so's we could
understand the problems in working the project. The moose
continued, talking and drawing. Yup, shoulda used proper 3M
overheads, I thought.
Suddenly, Big Cheese Batman swung his hand out -- it was a tommy
gun! We were all helpless, have checked our gats at the door.
The bullets began pumping, all directed at Bullwinkle. The
Valentine day's massacre came to mind. We was helpless.
"Goddamn it!" shouted Big Cheese Batman. "I don't have to listen
to this f******* bull****. This is bull****. Get outta here and
don't come back." A few more "f" bullets went zinging into the
moose.
Bullwinkle, apparently dazed, tried to calm Batman down, trying
to go on with his presentation! "But, Batman, if you'll just let
me continue, I'll explain..."
Batman let loose another volley of lead. "Goddamn it. Enough of
this f****** ... Get out of here... and don't come back
until..."
"But, Batman..."
This went back and forth what minutes. Seemed like days at the
time. I checked. Yup. More gray hair.
By now, everyone in the room was cringing, trying to sink into
their chairs to avoid the flying lead. We shoulda run for it --
but we'ze was petrified by the gunfire.
Ping! A stray hit one of Batman's own boys. No one was safe!
I looked to Rocky to see if he was gonna back his boy,
Bullwinkle.
No rod appeared. He was hidin'like the rest of us -- no one was
gonna do nuttin' to protect the moose. The moose's goose was
cooked.
Then, Bullwinkle reached into his pocket. Did the moose sneak a
piece into the meet? I though increduously. He did! It was his
ol' slingshot, the only armament he carried since he was a kid.
He put a strawberry in it and launched. "But, Batman, you ARE a
guest to our meet and I would just like to make my presen--"
You could hear a pin drop, 'cept then it was actually a score of
bellies smackin' the floor, chairs flung back. Cringing under
our chairs wasn't going to be enough -- and now it was too late
to exit gracefully through the only door, all of us saying in
unison, "'Scuse please, gotta go to the john."
RAATTTAATTTTTTT!!!!!!!!
We looked up at the moose.
Bullwinkle, full of holes, up one side and down the other, was
still standing! Incredible! "But, Batman, if--" the moose
began, once again. He looked to the rest of team for support --
none had the "ethics" to do anything.
Batman looked at his tommy, wonderin' if he was shootin' blanks.
Nope, he and we could all see the daylight streamin' through
Bullwinkle Moose; yet, - YET! - he was still standin', waitin' to
continue his presentation. Talk about tough!
And Bullwinkle, still talking calmly, still wanting to do his
part, like any good employee who had a presentation to make, and
wondering why after but a minute or two into his talk, without
justification, in public, in a mixed group, he was being gunned
down ruthlessly, in a such a demeaning manner, by what many
considered was a hero, Big Cheese Batman from Big Town.
Frustrated with the moose seemingly not affected by his gunfire,
Batman, without a word, stood, and with most his entourage, left
the meeting room.
Bullwinkle went ahead, and in fifteen minutes, finished his
presentation. "Questions?" he asked.
Batman returned. He looked at the moose. In a cold, deadly
voice, he uttered, "The next time I tell you to stop and get out,
you'd better damn well do it." We couldn't be sure, but some
thought he had a pineapple palmed, ready to pull the pin and blow
the moose into stew. What a motivator! What a leader!
At that point, Batman got up and took over the meet. For the
next two hours, or was it three days, we was then forced to
listen to Batman tell us what great boys (and dame) we was, and
how we was the mob's greatest, most important asset.
Funny, later that day, and even months later, all we remember was
how Bullwinkle got peppered full of holes, seemingly for simply
not using official 3M overheads. I decided to put on my
investigator cap and grilled the other boys, and dame, present
during the massacre to see if I had missed something.
I discovered that no one cared much anymore for Batman and his
style of leadership. And it didn't take long to find the REAL
truth of why Batman dumped on Bullwinkle.
One of the boys in the meet happened to walk by Batman just after
he walked in and sat down, and had spotted Batman's paper with
his notes regarding the meet. On the paper was several lines of
stuff (no doubt correctly bulleted in 3M overhead style). One
line stood out, like a bright neon light on a black night with no
moon, with a shapely... anyway, the line said,
SHOW THEM WHO IS BOSS
The moose had been set up! An innocent victim at the wrong place
at the wrong time, gunned down JUST to show local boss Rocky
Squirrel and "his boys" who was the top dog in that organization!
The morale of the story: You can do everything right, do your
best, be a real team player, and have a kind word for everyone;
yet, you can still get selected at random to be a victim by those
who motivate through fear and intimidation, needing to
demonstrate who has the power, who is the boss, working under the
belief that by abusing power using FEAR, everyone will be MORE
motivated by FEAR to work harder to make said big boss even more
successful.
I shook my head, trying to push off the chill. I wondered when
we would learn from history. The Romans used the motivating
fear technique called "decimate" -- when you need to motivate
your troops, you lined them up, picked one at random, and counted
off by ten's, selecting every tenth to be summarily executed.
Where's the Roman empire and its dead lanquage today? Others
have also tried whips and slavery and execution to drive fear
into the hearts of workers (see history of Stalinism in Russia
where 25 million were liquidated to motivate the rest of the
workers - didn't make for much economic success there either, did
it).
Beating up your own people, instead of the competition,
inherently and intuitively makes NO sense.
You win by ALWAYS treating your people, and your co-workers, with
respect and ethics, all working TOGETHER, based on mutual goals
and values. Not by fear via someone on an ego trip to "show 'em
who's da boss."
This ends this detective's report. I'm going home. Maybe I'll
spot my favorite Dairy Queen watering hole and get a double
float.
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