Category: Respect

HBO’s “Girls” Still Play with “Tiny Furniture” – Part II: Psychological Nepotism


Images-2

Continued from the Previous Post

But Lena Dunham is not a "regular" person. Far from it. Her parents have enveloped her entire being into nepotistic shroud of cultural connections. More importantly, however, they bestowed upon her, what I call, the psychological nepotism – a phenomenon specific to wealthy families with no worries for the children's material wellbeing in the future. The ability to provide for their children far beyond their own graves turns these parents into blind believers that whatever their daughters and sons poop out are unmatchable manifestations of incredible talents.

Let me give you an example.  I remember many years ago Alec Baldwin telling David Letterman how him and his then-wife Kim Basinger were playing tennis and their three-year-old daughter touched a racquet. Kim started talking incessantly about the child's "being drawn" to the sport and a possibility of John McEnroe "taking a look." Are you catching my drift?

I believe that Ms. Dunham herself is somewhat aware of impact the psychological nepotism has on privileged children. In the third episode of "Girls," when Jessa is introduced to her babysitting charges by their mom, a filmmaker, we learn that the little girls (I think 6 and 9) have several "incredible" projects in the making: painting a toy animal, a mosaic project, a novel that requires editing…

My readers may think I am a "material" bitch stifling "normal" children's creative aspirations. That's laughably far from the truth. I firmly believe that real talents should be encouraged to go the distance no matter how hard the road ahead is. However, my standards are pretty high. On the other hand, "connected" parents turn everything into a tightly managed "artistic" output and treat every piece of a mediocre crap as a fucking masterpiece. 

Judd Apatow keeps saying in different interviews that for him writing is an extension of his struggle for self-esteem, while Lena just goes and enjoys herself, merrily banging at the keyboard. And it makes perfect sense: no matter how much success he will achieve, Judd will always need to prove his worth to himself, while Lena Dunham was born with the idea that everything she does – every nursery school drawing, every little story for the English class, every small part she had in a school play, is absolutely, indisputably precious. As it frequently happens, when nepotism is at play, the quality is irrelevant – the products get pushed through all available channels anyway.

To Be Continued

Politics & Promotions: Gil Grissom vs. Conrad Ecklie


  Images I cannot really call myself a CSI fan.  I think in eleven years they've released over 250 episodes (!) and I watched maybe 25 or so.  It was enough to familiarize myself with the protagonists and even the first level of secondary characters.  Their dynamics piqued my interest.

After all, the Crime Lab is a workplace and many actors on the show portray co-workers.  Even though they are government employees, the operational localization makes CSI and the human conflicts within similar to a small business.

One antagonistic relationship between two characters I consider archetypal.  It is applicable to any workplace. I am talking about professional devotion  vs. careerism as represented by graveyard shift supervisor Gil Grissom on one side and Conrad Ecklie on the other side.   

It is not that Ecklie is a complete professional failure or a wicked person.  Not the sharpest pencil in the box or the most advanced scientist around, he is good enough.  He is spiteful, but not diabolically evil. He puts all animosity aside when Nick Stokes is in trouble (in the episode conceived and directed by Quentin Tarantino).  Still, his priorities are clear and they have nothing to do with being the best at what he does.  His ambitions are all about getting ahead in the organizational structure, and he will do whatever it takes to achieve that.

On the other hand, Grissom is a brilliant scholar whose life's purpose is to never stop learning.  The puzzle of crime investigation is his passion.  His rise to the shift supervisor position had occurred without his doing anything but the best job he could. 

In one of the episodes I've seen, this exchange between the two took place:

Ecklie:        "You kept the sheriff out of the loop, that's a career killer."

Grissom:    "That's your problem, Eckley, you view it as a career."

And that says it all.  So, what happens?

Ecklie consistently rises from dayshift supervisor, to Assistant Director to the Undersheriff of LVPD.   Grissom, even though a PhD and a star in his field, holds the same title leading his team until he retires and goes to Paris to teach in Sorbonne.

Obviously, I feel very strongly about this issue – I despise self-promoting careerists who climb up the ranks not because they are the best at what they do, but because they don't step on anyone's toes and know which ass to kiss at the right moment.  You, with all your knowledge, intellect and diligence have no chance against them.  If promotions and bigger salaries are rewards and it's the mediocre Ecklies who succeed, it means that the merit based system fails.

Whatever was the real reason for William Petersen's departure from the show, the viewers are to believe that Grissom is happier now.  But he did leave the job, to which he devoted a big chunk of his life.  And so did I – at one point in my career I left a job I liked because someone else undeservedly got ahead of me.  It wasn't easy.

 

Respect Your Audience: Reflections Triggered by Matthew Good’s Concert at Mercury Lounge


Images-1Let's face it – most of business professionals, including CFO's and controllers, like hearing themselves talk. Frequently, we cannot stop ourselves, going on and on about some business matter, or bitching about some subordinate, or superior, or peer. Presentations are too long to hold listeners' attention, pitches are unfocused, emails look like novellas, and meeting speeches are self-aggrandizing. There is no denying – that pervasive affliction of humanity, narcissism, is inescapable.

The sad truth is that by doing this we depreciate ourselves – people see it as overcompensation for hidden insecurities. Moreover, such behavioral tendencies give the listeners a good reason to be dismissive. They will feel disrespected and resist to be receptive.

However, even with that affliction sometimes obstructing our way to successful communications, most of us have enough common sense and professional experience not to offend our audience with outright insults. The nature of our positions forces us to be diplomatic. We are in the business of dealing with brash bosses, prima-donna sales people, sensitive customers, important bankers, strategic suppliers, valuable subordinates, and whoever else the job brings into our habitats. The words we use and thoughts we express have a potential of affecting our company's business in a positive or negative way. So, we'd better be respectful, and, most of the time, we are.

These thoughts kept popping into my head last week during Matthew Good's concert at Mercury Lounge. The whole experience was a bit strange. I've been listening to this Canadian rocker's beautiful music, channeled through his amazing vocal and guitar skills, since the 90s (God bless them!). Now, standing right in front of the tiny stage, I've observed a 40-year-old (looking over 50), kinda balding, kinda pudgy, unkempt man, who managed to down three large glasses of gin in a span of 90 minutes. 

It was unexpected, but I really-really don't care what people look like as long as they do their job well. And I've got to say, when Mr. Good sang, it made you forget everything: his age, your age, what he looks like, and what you look like now, and all the shit that happened in 20 years since you first heard him. The trouble was the man sang only half the time.

Dana Carvey once said that all comedians want to be rock stars; apparently, and vice versa. Matthew talked after every song (literally): SNL sketches, whooping cough epidemic in Vancouver, one of his kids being a bastard, postnasal drip, Lance (his guitar Dobby/drinks server/on-the-road chef), hot dogs – what have you. I was standing there thinking, "Dude, do your job, sing. Have some fucking respect – it's midnight on a Wednesday night, some of us worked all day and have to work tomorrow."

It got worse: as the blood alcohol level was rising, his widely known political side started coming out. When he began throwing accusations regarding American government's shadiness mixed with condescending remarks like, "You should know what your government is doing" into the audience (thanks, dude, without your Canadian ass I wouldn't know how to form political opinions!), someone else voiced, "What about your government?"

But at the end, it was an issue related to his own music, with which he hit the ultimate low of disrespect. The exhausted, but still forgiving fans started throwing song requests at him; some from The Matthew Good Band's first album "Last of the Ghetto Astronauts." "There is a better chance for my starting chewing crack than for your forcing me to sing anything from that album. Common, people, admit it – that was crap written by a 24-year-old." This is to those who bought the album and listened to it since 1995, plus many members of the audience who are in their 20s now, yet know every word of lyrics you wrote when they were wearing pampers? How offensive is that?

Essentially, touring musicians are in business of selling their albums and solidifying their fan base, thus making sure that people will buy tickets again and again. In that, they are not much different from other business professionals.  The way I see it, they should be afraid to lose their paying customers the same way we do. Alas, Matthew Good thinks differently. Well, I'm not buying next time.

What If You Don’t Look the Part?


ImagesAh, December!  The month of office parties and corporate gatherings.  Small or large, every company feels obligated to do something: sandwiches from a nearby deli with soda in plastic cups, or formal cocktails and fancy dinners – whatever fits the budget (frequently, way over budget).

On Monday I had to take part in my client's festivities.  The company is small, but has a lot of external relations (bankers, financiers, big-time suppliers, shippers, brokers, lawyers, consultants).  So, the gathering turned out to be pretty significant.  As their acting CFO I am viewed as an insider and, therefore, was placed at the head of the "finance and legal" table.  Funny!  Other tables – operations, logistics, etc. were vividly mixed-gendered.  At my table – I was the only woman.

"But no matter, no matter!"  As all of us – females of corporate finance, I've been working in the predominantly testosterone environment my entire career.  I know how men operate and expect them eventually, after obligatory discussions of each other's success, politics, economy, and the stock market, to fall into a football patter.  And even though I myself find basketball and tennis far more exciting (and, as my readers know, prefer arts altogether), I am ready.  It's not really that difficult – here, in NYC, they are predominantly Giants' fans.  All it takes is to remember few key names and events, and they feel like you are "one of the boys." 

So, here we are, in the third hour of the event, with enough liquor in all of them to knock a team of stevedores to the ground (ever since the martini lunches have become their industry's long-gone past, the thirsty bankers make up for them in the evenings), when the Giants sneak their way into the conversation.  Only this time around, there is a twist – a politely contained and quiet tiff erupts over Eli Manning. 

You see, there is this guy, second from me on the left, in his early sixties, who looks like the Nazi who got the scepter's head burnt into his palm in "Raiders of the Lost Ark."  Only 30 minutes ago he said that the best presidential candidate right now was Michele Bachmann, which made me bit my tongue so hard to prevent a spontaneous response, I bled a little in my mouth.  Now he is arguing with other neighboring boys, telling them how much he hates Eli, and the way he sits on the side, and his smile, and his hat, etc., etc.  The fact that he is one of the only three Giants' players ever to be named a Super Bowl MVP apparently means nothing.

Let me tell you, I don't really give a rat's ass about either of the Manning brothers.  It's the underlying principle that's important to me.  So, I look the man in the eyes through his round glasses and say, "Many conservative men don't like Eli Manning, because he looks like a goofy high-schooler."  "Yes, and that stupid grin of his," says the man.  And I say, "But that look, and that grin, and that hat – they have nothing to do with his performance on the field."  The conversation ended right then and there.

More than a year ago, I finished my post "He Looks Like an Accountant…" by saying that young crowd at rock concerts don't believe that I am a career CFO.  The truth is that, unless I am introduced as one, nobody ever guesses it.  Moreover, there is always an element of surprise in people's reaction, when they learn about my profession.  It doesn't matter that I am very good at it and have a book on the subject coming out, I don't come off as "corporate finance," at least not by American standards.  I am not tall, not skinny; I don't have the fake gloss all over me.  And that crazy hair I could never tame!  I am acutely aware of this discrepancy with people's expectations.  That's why "CFO Techniques" doesn't have my picture on the back cover – I don't want to confuse people.

Follow-Up to “What if You Don’t Look the Part?”


A-BLOG18ELITROPHY640AZ-386x217As my readers know from December 7th, 2011 post What If You Don't Look the Part, I am not much of a football fan.  However, I am a big fan of people showing haters what's what.  So…

Congratulations to New York Giants for winning their fourth Super Bowl!  Congratulations to Eli Manning for getting an MVP Award for the second time and orchestrating winning plays during crunch time in 50% of Giants' victories, goofy smile and silly hat notwithstanding!