O O Ø O O O O
Esprit d’Escalier
If I were a hockey player, my age would put me firmly on the downhill slope of my career, very much like the struggling-but-game Darren McCarty. My relevant experience however, places me in the same category as Byron Ritchie.
For what this analogy is worth, I can skate, but the Canadian Tire vending machine tune on my skates prevents me from stopping. Please also note that modesty requires I select fiery fourth line centre Ritchie for comparison, and not the superhuman DION PHANEUF, both of whom have roughly equal levels of professional experience.
When you work for a Mom and Pop shop, leaving is akin to abandoning your family. When I looked into the future, however, I couldn’t see myself in my current role and being happy. Once I identified that barrier to my happiness, I paid the price—a reasonably high price in this case—and removed it.
“This isn’t a negotiation, and thank you, but I don’t want you to try to change my mind.”
Where is my ambition? A solid day’s work and home with my wife is my ambition.
I have a profound respect for career minor leaguers.
The mild, familiar thrill of ego gratification remains.
A career requires a modicum of adolescence.
Wall assembly, unbuilt.
I’ve learned so, so many copier codes since 1990.
I can be abundantly successful, anywhere.
Sturgess is the new SysGold.
Evan Spence
November 21, 2006
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