Friday, March 14, 2003
Holy Sheet
I learned an important lesson about corporate life yesterday: rank has its privileges.
I was working in the president's executive conference room and needed a piece of scrap paper to jot down some notes. My New Friend Travis pulled a sheet out of a nearby printer. He handed me the paper, and the world suddenly seemed to move in slow motion.
The paper - no, that's not the right word - the FABRIC glistened slightly in the afternoon sun. I thought I knew what the color white looked like, but now my eyes have to recalibrate the entire visual spectrum. My fingertips could not detect a single bump or imperfection as they caressed the glass-like surface of this 8 1/2 by 11 piece of Heaven.
I felt that my scribble of a VCR diagram would be unworthy of such a parchment. Surely, this material should be reserved for the likes of DaVinci or Gutenberg. But I had a job to do. My pen glided effortlessly across the sheet, as if the ink already knew where it was supposed to go. I never realized that all this time I've been writing memos on sandpaper.
There is a different world out there my friends… Pat tells me that executive toilet paper is lined with strands of silk; Someday, someday...
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I learned an important lesson about corporate life yesterday: rank has its privileges.
I was working in the president's executive conference room and needed a piece of scrap paper to jot down some notes. My New Friend Travis pulled a sheet out of a nearby printer. He handed me the paper, and the world suddenly seemed to move in slow motion.
The paper - no, that's not the right word - the FABRIC glistened slightly in the afternoon sun. I thought I knew what the color white looked like, but now my eyes have to recalibrate the entire visual spectrum. My fingertips could not detect a single bump or imperfection as they caressed the glass-like surface of this 8 1/2 by 11 piece of Heaven.
I felt that my scribble of a VCR diagram would be unworthy of such a parchment. Surely, this material should be reserved for the likes of DaVinci or Gutenberg. But I had a job to do. My pen glided effortlessly across the sheet, as if the ink already knew where it was supposed to go. I never realized that all this time I've been writing memos on sandpaper.
There is a different world out there my friends… Pat tells me that executive toilet paper is lined with strands of silk; Someday, someday...
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