Thursday, July 29, 2010

Think of this as a trilogy or, even better, a thrillogy, because talking about the job move for a third straight post must be as riveting for you as it is for me. It’s so riveting, in fact, that I pledge to you this will be the last evening devoted to the topic. Promise. What’s been compelling to me is the way the contours of communication have shifted recently, in many cases toward wholly unexpected and refreshing avenues.

Throughout this episode, I’ve sought to limit communication and try to balance dissemination with courtesy. When I resigned, for instance, I reached out to a few people in tandem to blunt whatever douche factor might’ve been associated with the announcement. A small group was all that was needed, too, because the wire–the same infrastructure that powers the rumor mill–would invariably take care of the rest, and sure enough the news was out in a day or two.

You’d think I’d want to shout about it from the rooftops, but the reason for being reticent is simple, really. I’ve been on the other side, frequently, and I remember one particular colleague at a past gig who droned on and on about his new opportunity, reveling in his impending exit to the point where I told him flat out, “Hey, I’ve still got to be here.” You understand, I’m sure. It’s, like, I get it. I’m happy for you. Now get the fuck out. That’s why I’ve largely kept my mouth shut unless questioned and, although this may be overboard, I’ve vetoed certain traditions. Absolutely no happy hour, for starters. Also prohibited is the marginally sappy goodbye e-mail with an inspirational quote. And the veto stamp won’t even begin to dry until I’m able to make a quiet exit, stage left.

Now, I don’t know if this is a direct payoff of this approach, but the conversations I’m having are fresh and frank. The sentiments certainly run the gamut–happy, sad, forthright, oblique, urgent–and the tone also varies wildly, loud and boisterous in one moment, hushed and conspiratorial the next, but the authenticity is shared. Some of these talks have even bordered on the confessional, with secrets that I’m bound, honored, to guard. Would it have been possible to cultivate this directness from the get-go? I’m guessing not, but it would’ve been something. Perhaps I’ll try resigning on day one.