Sunday, December 9, 2012
Oldie but goodie--What it takes to be the Boss
OK, so here we have an oldie but goodie. Thought I'd put it in the blog on the chance that some of you hadn't yet had the opportunity to partake. I first heard this while I worked at the City of
“Metro” Wastewater Treatment plant. Seems somewhat fitting. For some reason I’ve been thinking about this
tale for a few days now and, lest it be lost, I am now going to reduce it to
bits. If anybody knows the original
author, I would appreciate knowing too. Columbia
What it takes to be the Boss
One day all the parts of the body began to discuss who should be the boss. The brain (thinking the question was really a no-brainer), thought he should be the boss. After all, said the brain, I provide thought and direction for all the parts of the body. No one really does a thing unless I direct it be done. I should, obviously, be the boss.
Well, all the other body parts thought this over and there was some considerable disagreement. The muscles spoke first, saying, look here, brain. We make motion possible for the whole body. We get us up out of bed in the morning, we take us to work, and we even provide all you need whenever you want to enjoy a good game of golf. Obviously, we should be the boss. The heart and lungs next joined in as a partnership. Without us, where do all of you think you would be? The blood we send to you carries your sustenance, your oxygen, and literally keeps you from drying up. Why, if it weren’t for the white corpuscles we send to you, you wouldn’t last long considering all the diseases that are out there. You should make us the boss—we are, after all, absolutely indispensable.
Several other parts of the body chimed in, all thinking they were the most indispensable of all. The last body part to weigh in was the azz hole. This idea sent all the other body parts into conniptions. The idea was so absurd—the azz hole being the boss? The brain, the Heart and lungs, the muscles, all had their supporters, but the azz hole! More laughter ensued. The azz hole, initially placing his candidacy for the job with a degree of humility, began to feel bad, at first, then he began to get mad. To be turned down for the job was one thing, but to be ridiculed and laughed at was quite another.
The azz hole got so mad he tied himself into a knot. He was really, really mad.
The other body parts forgot about him and continued their arguments. Each had a certain amount of support and each believed they had a chance at getting the job. This lasted for just over two days. On the third day things began to become quite grim. The azz hole’s response to all the ridicule began to take a toll on all the other parts of the body. As a matter of fact, they all began to feel quite out of sorts, to say the least. The heart began to beat a bit erratically; the lungs began to breathe in a labored manner. The muscles were all sore and found themselves having a tendency to cramp. The eyes found themselves crossing. The brain was aching and somewhat addled. The azz hole just sat there.
All the parts of the body (except the azz hole) then got together. What the azz hole was doing was more than apparent to all and everyone wanted relief. In fact, they wanted relief so bad they all voted to make the azz hole the boss, a move all found quite satisfactory in short order.
This story, like most, has its moral. It’s simple and self evident to most people who have ever found themselves in the average work-place. When it comes to bosses, you don’t have to be a brain, you don’t have to be a shaker and a mover, or be very muscular, you don’t even have to provide any overriding essential services—you just have to be an azz hole. (And, should you be of mixed race, say you're a mule, don't worry, that's close enough.)