Humor 10/4/98: Top 10 Signs You Work in Consulting

Hey Everyone,

Welcome to my weekly humor email for those who are new. Please check
out my new homepage: http://personal.anderson.ucla.edu/joshua.li/. I
have scanned in some of my pictures from my summer travels in Asia, and
will be linking them in within the next day or two. Every once in a
while, I'll scan in some more pictures and load them to the web. I also
have a section to link to my friend's homepages. So, if you would like
me to add a link to your homepage, please just send me the address.
Afterall, one of the main purposes of personal homepages is to link to
other things. For those of you at Anderson B-school, I will be putting
up my classnotes, and other materials.

OK, this week's humor was forwarded by Anna Man, followed by a touching
story forwarded by David Shim. Enjoy!

Take care and keep in touch!

-Josh.
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Top 10 Signs You Work in Consulting:
10. You lecture the neighborhood kids selling lemonade on ways to
improve their process
9. You get all excited it's Saturday so you can wear casual
clothes to work
8. You refer to the tomatoes grown in your garden as deliverables
7. You find you really need PowerPoint to explain what you do
for a living.
6. You normally eat out of vending machines and at the most
expensive restaurant in town within the same week.
5. You wear gray to work instead of navy blue to make a bold
fashion statement.
4. You know the people at the airport and hotel better than your
next door neighbors.
3. You ask your friends to "think out of the box" when making
Friday night plans.
2. You think Einstein would have been more effective had he put
his ideas into a matrix
1. You think a half-day means leaving at 5 o'clock


You know it is time to get out of consulting when...
1. You ask the waiter what the restaurant's core competencies are.
2. You decide to re-org your family into a "team-based organization."
3. You refer to dating as test marketing.
4. You can spell "paradigm."
5. You actually know what a paradigm is.
6. You understand your airline's fare structure.
7. You write executive summaries on your love letters.
8. You think that it's actually efficient to write a ten page paper
with six other people you don't know.
9. You believe every company is "a traditional functional
organization, with promotion based on tenure, but one that needs to
change as it is facing ever increasing competition..."
10. You believe that a company's problems are never caused by an
"ineffective handling of an administrative situation."
11. You believe you never have any problems in your life, just
"issues" and "improvement opportunities."
12. You know every piece of clip art in PowerPoint.
13. You calculate your own personal cost of capital and NPV.
13. a) You calculate your prospective spouse's NPV.
14. You explain to your bank manager that you prefer to think of
yourself as "highly leveraged" as opposed to "in debt."
15. You ask your bank manager if she has heard of "Modigliani-Miller,"
and then you ask her if she has a pizza so you can show her.
16. You can explain to somebody the difference between
"re-engineering," "down-sizing," "right-sizing," and
"firing peoples' butts."
17. You actually believe your explanation in number 16.
18. You start doing your kid's math equations in reverse Polish
notation.
19. You enjoy using an HP-12C.
20. You refer to your previous life as "my sunk cost."
21. Your three meals a day are a morning consumption function, a
noontime consumption function, and an evening consumption function.
22. You refer to your significant other as "my co-CEO."
23. Your favorite stories begin "Bob Jones, VP of marketing, sat at
his desk and stared out his window..."
24. You like both types of sandwiches: ham and turkey.
25. You believe CAPM is just as important as the Theory of Relativity.
26. You believe CAPM.
27. You start to feel sorry for Dilbert's boss.
28. You believe the best tables and graphs take an hour to comprehend.
29. You refer to divorce as "divestiture."
30. Your favorite artist is the one who does the dot drawings for
the Wall Street Journal.
31. None of your favorite publications have cartoons.
32. You account for your tuition as a capital expenditure instead
of an expense.
33. You insist that you do some more market research before you and
your spouse produce another child.
34. At your last family reunion, you wanted to have an emergency
meeting about their brand equity.
35. You always call your mechanic before you start your car to see
if it will blow up given the day's weather conditions...
36. ...and expect him to use a decision tree to work it out.
37. You've decided the only way to afford a house is to call your
fellow alumni and offer to name a room after them, if they'll help
with the down payment.
38. Your "deliverable" for Sunday evening is clean laundry and paid
bills.
39. You use the term "value-added" without falling down laughing.
40. You ask the car salesman if the car comes with a whiteboard and
Internet connection.
41. You give constructive feedback to your dog.
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Subject: The Voice

When I was quite young, my father had one of the first telephones in
our neighborhood. I remember well the polished old case fastened to
the wall. The shiny receiver hung on the side of the box. I was too
little to reach the telephone, but used to listen with fascination when
my mother used to talk to it.

Then I discovered that somewhere inside the wonderful device lived an
amazing person - her name was "Information Please" and there was nothing
she did not know. "Information Please" could supply anybody's number
and the correct time.

My first personal experience with this genie-in-the-bottle came one day
while my mother was visiting a neighbor. Amusing myself at the tool
bench in the basement, I whacked my finger with a hammer.

The pain was terrible, but there didn't seem to be any reason for crying
because there was no one home to give sympathy. I walked around the
house sucking my throbbing finger, finally arriving at the stairway.
"The telephone," I thought.

Quickly, I ran for the footstool in the parlor and dragged it to the
landing. Climbing up, I unhooked the receiver in the parlor and held it
to my ear. "Information Please," I said into the mouthpiece just above
my head.

A click or two and a small clear voice spoke into my ear.
"Information."

"I hurt my finger. . ." I wailed into the phone. The tears came readily
enough now that I had an audience.

"Isn't your mother home?" came the question.

"Nobody's home but me." I blubbered.

"Are you bleeding?"

"No," I replied. "I hit my finger with the hammer and it hurts."

"Can you open your icebox?" she asked. I said I could.

"Then chip off a little piece of ice and hold it to your finger," said
the voice.

After that, I called "Information Please" for everything. I asked her
for help with my geography and she told me where Philadelphia was. She
helped me with my math. She told me my pet chipmunk that I had caught
in the park just the day before would eat fruits and nuts.

Then, there was the time Petey, our pet canary died. I called
"Information Please" and told her the sad story. She listened, then
said the usual things grown-ups say to soothe a child.

But I was un-consoled. I asked her, "Why is it that birds should sing
so beautifully and bring joy to all families, only to end up as a heap
of feathers on the bottom of a cage?"

She must have sensed my deep concern, for she said quietly, "Paul,
always remember that there are other worlds to sing in."

Somehow I felt better.

Another day I was on the telephone. "Information Please."
"Information," said the now familiar voice. "How do you spell fix?" I
asked.

All this took place in a small town in the Pacific Northwest.

When I was 9 years old, we moved across the country to Boston. I missed
my friend very much. "Information Please" belonged in that old wooden
box back home, and I somehow never thought of trying the tall, shiny new
phone that sat on the table in the hall.

As I grew into my teens, the memories of those childhood conversations
never really left me. Often, in moments of doubt and perplexity I would
recall the serene sense of security I had then. I appreciated now how
patient, understanding, and kind she was to have spent her time on a
little boy.

A few years later, on my way west to college, my plane put down in
Seattle. I had about half an hour or so between planes. I spent 15
minutes or so on the phone with my sister, who lived there now. Then
without thinking what I was doing, I dialed my hometown operator and
said, "Information , Please."

Miraculously, I heard the small, clear voice I knew so well,
"Information." I hadn't planned this but I heard myself saying, "Could
you please tell me how to spell fix?"

There was a long pause. Then came the soft spoken answer, "I guess your
finger must have healed by now."

I laughed. "So it's really still you,' I said. "I wonder if you have
any idea how much you meant to me during that time."

"I wonder," she said, "if you know how much your calls meant to me." "I
never had any children, and I used to look forward to your calls."

I told her how often I had thought of her over the years and I asked if
I could call her again when I came back to visit my sister.

"Please do, she said. "Just ask for Sally."

Three months later I was back in Seattle. A different voice answered,
"Information." I asked for Sally.

"Are you a friend?" She said.

"Yes, a very old friend," I answered.

"I'm sorry to have to tell you this, she said. Sally had been working
part-time the last few years because she was sick. She died five weeks
ago."

Before I could hang up she said, "Wait a minute. Did you say your name
was Paul?"
"Yes."

"Well, Sally left a message for you. She wrote it down in case you
called. Let me read it to you." The note said, "Tell him I still say
there are other worlds to sing in. He'll know what I mean."

I thanked her and hung up. I knew what Sally meant.

Anonymous

Never underestimate the impression you may make on others
--
_____________________________________

Joshua Li
431 S. Burnside Ave. #12 B
Los Angeles CA 90036
(323)936-8476 (Not connected yet)
Permanent Email: joshli@post.harvard.edu