Life Choices

Jamie Dimon wishes he had your job

Some mornings, like this morning, the torture of the getting dressed process is so bad that it makes me begin to question my choices in life. What if we hadn’t started a family? What if Andrea and I had stayed childless, climbed the corporate ladder, worked on our golf games and become socialites? Do senior executives have to deal with this Baloney?

I can just envision the CEO of the public company where I work in a scene like this…

Investor Relations (IR) guy: [Calmly and smoothly] Okay, Steve, do you remember what we talked about yesterday? You have an analyst call today. It’s time to get your suit on!

CEO: I don’t want to get dressed!

IR: But Steve, you know you have to get dressed to present to the analysts!

CEO: I don’t want to get dressed! I want to wear my jammies!

IR: [A little strained] You know you can’t wear your jammies to the analyst call. You have to wear your suit. Look at this beautiful outfit I picked up for you! It’s Brooks Brothers.

CEO: I don’t like it! I don’t want to wear it.

IR: And I picked out your favorite tie. You know, the Hermes with the stagecoaches on it?

CEO: I don’t like that tie! I won’t wear it!

IR: [Frustrated] What do you mean you don’t like it? It was your favorite last week!

By now, the CEO is lying on his side, kicking his feet back and forth in a “running man” motion.

CEO: I’m not getting dressed! I WANNA WEAR MY JAMMIES!

IR: That’s it, I’m getting your VP of HR.

The HR guy comes barreling into the room.

HR: WHADAYA MEAN, you won’t put on your suit! We’ve talked about this a million times, mister. If you don’t put on that suit and tie this instant, I’m not letting you fly the corporate jet to Vail this weekend! And you’re not getting a sticker on your sticker chart. I mean it this time!

A heated standoff ensues for several minutes. Eventually the CEO relents and puts on his suit and tie in a huff.

IR: Now was that so bad? Ok, time to comb your hair.

CEO: I DON’T WANNA COMB MY HAIR!

***

The funny thing is, if you knew our CEO, the above scenario doesn’t seem all that far-fetched.

We all make choices in life, but I wonder how many of us are fully informed about the consequences. My friends who went to law school dreamed about courtroom drama scenes. What their roles mostly entail today, unfortunately, is 80-hour weeks of relentless high-stress wordsmithing drudgery. Parents start families for the beautiful babies and the rosy thoughts of high-school graduations and weddings someday. What they get is the relentless strain of just trying to get through the basic acts in life – getting dressed, feeding, getting in the car, bathing, going to bed, and then waking up to start it all over again the next day.

In the end, it’s foolish to question life’s choices. I’m sure there are aspects of my CEO’s life that are unpleasant, stressful, not living up to his expectations. I’ll bet that private jet to Vail isn’t so great. The leather seats probably get too hot and the Perrier doesn’t stay fizzy enough. I’m sure he’d do almost anything to experience the joys, just once, of getting two kids dressed and out the door for school. It beats an analyst call any day.

I'll Be Back

This is pretty much my kids
around electronics

Quite a while back, I wrote about how electronics were invading our family’s lives. I called that post “The Rise of the Machines.”

Little did I know at the time that back in April was just the dawn of the rise of the machines. That time was Terminator 1 – the kids and their Leap Pads were a low budget and bad acting affair. Their Arnold Schwarzenegger Cyborg desire to play Wii was menacing and tireless to be sure but nothing that couldn’t be handled by Linda Hamilton and me, and a huge industrial hydraulic press.

Unfortunately, our small victory over the electronics was short lived. The machines learned and rose and multiplied. Today the kids’ desire to be constantly inundated by electronics is Terminator 4’s Skynet – all knowing, all powerful. That one robot skeleton that attacked in the first installment has been replaced by armies of killer androids. They come in unending waves and attack from all sides. “Can I play Ipad?” says one from his evil skeletal maw, “What about Wii?” “Can I play on your phone in the car?” “Can I watch a show?”

There’s a scene in the HBO movie Stalin where it’s the middle of World War II and Josef Stalin is being shown a military map of the battles by his head general. Things are not going well, and the general tells Stalin that the Red Army is losing and retreating “here, here and here.” Stalin flies into a rage and starts screaming at the quaking general (who, since Stalin had executed all of his predecessors, had little grounds for debate) “I vill tell you vat ve vill do!” he screams, slamming the map at each location “ve vill attack zem HERE AND HERE AND HERE!!!”

That’s my kids: ve vill attack zem HERE AND HERE AND HERE!

Ve vill attack zem before they are awake, ve vill attack zem in their bed: “Can we play Scooby Doo on the Wii?”

Ve vill attack zem at Breakfast: “Can we watch a show?”

Ve Vill attack zem in ze car: “Can we play on your phones on the way to school?”

Ve Vill attack zem after school: “Can we play on our Leap Pads?”

Ve Vill attack zem before dinner: “Can we play on your computer?”

Ve Vill attack zem after dinner: “Can we play on Mommy’s Ipad?”

Andrea and I, the defenders, (the Nazis? God, this metaphor has gone astray!) are losing this war of attrition. Our meager forces are being ground to dust. Morale is low. We are suffering from trench foot, scarlet fever and dysentery. There are food and ammunition shortages. And I have to tell you, desertions are common. “Can’t you kids just go play with toys?” We beg, “Can’t you behave like normal children and play outside?”

But no. They are not normal children. They are tireless, relentless, future-cyborg-hopelessly-muddled-metaphor-with-communist-Russia-Red-Army electronics consuming armies.

Which leaves humanity with only one hope. We must send a freedom fighter back in time to destroy the early electronics and impregnate Sarah Connor. Even then, I think we are in for endless high-budget sequels. I can tell - every time I turn off the Wii I hear a faint phrase in a distinctly Austrian accent:

I’ll Be Back.