Trying to make employees happy may achieve the reverse.
Count me out of mandatory fun.
How about: I work, I get paid and we all have fun on our own time?
“Scharpling wasn’t bemoaning the nascent digital form, but balking at the rich/white/straight/male first adaptors whose constant back-patting and self congratulation was drowning out the very premise of access and agency that technology gave for the unheard. He was a righteously indignant voice of consternation on how new media was becoming a repository for creative runoff, or a bully pulpit for amateurism and mediocrity. When these nerd overlords carved out their self-referencing fiefdoms, they didn’t understand or care that the easy pandering to their chosen niches wasn’t just oppressive and exclusionary, it was uninteresting and unfunny. He called out the hypocrisies and the lack of discussion of the –isms that pervade yet another counter-culture moving towards the center, and he defiantly cast out to the edges in response.”
See, THIS IS WHY I LOVE @FREDFROMHON! Eloquent! Delightful!
Daisy and I were finishing up our walk when she stopped and pulled me back toward the street toward a woman who looked like she was headed to work.
Daisy, c’mon, I said, pulling her the other way.
But she wasn’t having it. She dragged me - something that she rarely does, considering she’s 13 years old and has decent leash manners - wagging her tail. She’s never this excited to see a stranger, and this stranger didn’t have a dog or a pile of porterhouse steaks.
The woman took notice of us. She really wants to say hi, I said.
She knelt down and Daisy ran up to her. Daisy’s tail was a blur while she leaned into the woman’s legs.
The woman smiled. It’s my birthday, she told me. I guess she can tell.
Daisy is a good, good girl.