I can't take the credit for this one - it was told to me by a friend at a business leadership conference. But it was so darn brilliant, I had to record it somewhere so that I would never forget it... and when you're talking about never doing something, this is as good a place as any. I'm taking some creative license here to make the story work as well in the written form as it does in the verbal, but I assure you I change none of the important details - this is a true story.
Once upon a time, in the far off land of Dublin (which is quite far from where I am, but it might not be very far from where you are for all I know, so if you are near Dublin, just ignore the "far off" part), there was a university called Trinity (in fact, it's still there). And there was a gentlemen who enjoyed riding his bicycle to work.
Every day as he rode past the university's front gate, he was stopped by the gate guard. Every day, without fail, the gate guard would make the gentleman stop, ask him for his name, and send him on his way. Somewhat amused by the whole process, one day the gentleman decided to find out exactly why this was happening. So instead of just bicycling on into the university, he asked the guard what he needed this information for.
In reply, the guard brought him into his office, where he showed the gentleman a large book within which was handwritten a long series of names, dates, and times. Every single time anybody bicycled through the gate, said the guard, their information had to be recorded in this "bicycle book," and indeed, many, many pages of the book were already covered with the names and dates of passing bicyclists.
"But why do you need this information?" asked the gentleman. "What do you do with it?"
"Not for me to say, sir," replied the gate guard. "It's required by the University Office of the Accountant, and that's where the books go."
"Books???"
And so it was that, not satisfied with an incomplete resolution to the mystery, the gentleman proceeded to the University's Office of Accountancy, where he secured a meeting with the school's Chief Accountant. Upon asking about the Bicycle Book, the gentleman was led into a room with many, many thick Books neatly filed on shelves. All of them were filled, just like the one in the guard house, with bicyclists' names and dates of passage.
"But what do you do with this information?" asked the gentleman.
"Oh, not much anymore, sir," replied the Chief Accountant."
"Anymore, you say? Well, what was the information used for, then?"
"Well, sir, during the Emergency we liked to reward our employees who helped to save petrol, so we gave them a half-penny credit toward their salary for bicycling to work."
Now the gentleman was dumbfounded at hearing this because, like most residents of the area, he knew that 'petrol' was just another word for what Americans commonly call 'gasoline', and that 'the Emergency' is the local term for the conflict generally known as World War II.
"But this is 1996, sir!" said the gentleman. "Are you telling me that the guards have been collecting this information needlessly for over fifty years?!?"
"Why, yes, I suppose so," said the Accountant, "We never really got around to telling them to stop."
With the end of this little tale, I ask you to think about the place where you work. Think about the things you do every day, just because they've always been done that way. Things you never think about - things that nobody ever thinks about - things that are just always done.
How many Bicycle Books do you have on your shelf?
Want to leave your mark in the NeverTown? Earn your citizenship by leaving comments and thoughts on what you just read. Just fill out the simple form below, and become a personage of importance in the NeverTown!
Keep it relatively clean, guys - the NeverTown is a family place.
© Copyright James Lemoine, 2003-2006. Copying and stealing information from this website without express written permission from Jimmy is strictly forbidden and an indicator that you are not the kind of nobody who hangs out in the Nevertown. So don't do it. The Beyond Wonderland font is provided by Chris Hansen, one hell of a talented font designer. Some javascript appropriated from javascript-fx.com, and used only after heavy modification.
|
|
|
Mouse over the cyan text in the main article for random thoughts, links, and other annotations.
If this box is covering the text or way off to the side, make sure to maximize your browser window.
No annotations for this one yet - it's a brand new article!
|
|
|
