I Can’t Seem To Get Anywhere At Work

The Teller is a victim of cubicle life. Until recently, most of our day was spent sitting in our office chair, snacking and searching the Internet for new items to Tell our faithful readers about (Hi, Mom!).

Then last week, while leaning for a bag of pretzels just out of reach, we broke our chair. Again. For the third time in the last six months.

The Teller is a little overweight. Or was, anyway. Now we’re getting back into shape as we work with a miracle of modern science: TrekDesk.

It’s a pretty complex little mechanism. You see, it’s a desk, attached to a treadmill. Sounds crazy, right? That’s because it IS crazy. Crazy like two things The Teller hates (the treadmill and our cubicle) smashed into one thing The Teller absolutely loves.

Let’s talk turkey: the Surgeon General recommends humans walk a minimum of five miles every day, or approximately 10,000 steps. In return for walking around, our chances of diabetes, heart attacks and strokes are significantly reduced. The Teller is anti-heart attack, big time.

TrekDesk recommends walking slowly, so you don’t get sweaty while at work and you don’t sound weird while you’re on the phone.

The Teller’s response: forget that. We don’t do things half-asked. When we’re working on the treadmill, we’re working at a full sprint, baby.

Sure, we get sweaty. And when people actually call us back, we’re a little breathless. And our typing accuracy and words-per-minute goes down pretty significantly.

But think of all the magical calories we’re burning! We can house a cheese steak (also at full sprint, obviously) and not even feel guilty. And we’ve never slept better in our life. It’s all gravy: we’re training for the marathon, and we’re getting paid to Tell.

Technology is great, isn’t it?

Reading The Teller Builds Character

Perhaps you’ve heard that we’re in a recession, and that’s why people are troubled, both at work and at home. At least, that’s what the so-called "economists" say. But frankly, that’s a bunch of hootenanny.

The real problem, according to entrepreneur and now author G. Web Ross, is that Americans just don’t give a damn anymore. They aren’t chasing the American dream. They don’t believe in good, old-fashioned American values: hard work, suffering, hunger, curing sicknesses with butter and leeches, and good will toward men and women.

"Freedom is the American character," Ross said in a recent release. "Right, left, or center, the American Dream is our national treasure. But it is not in programs, or cash infusions, or sweeping political reforms. The ultimate answer to the current American economic crisis lies in one timeless value: character."

Ross spent 40 years in the paper industry, eventually retiring as the CEO of a newsprint company (clearly he knew it was time to get out of the newsprint business. Or shall we say, he saw the writing on the wall). He’s got three successful children, and eight grandchildren. He’s set to celebrate his 60th wedding anniversary in July. He’s got the character to make things work.

Sounds a lot like The Teller‘s beloved grandfather, The Tall-Tale Teller. He sure had plenty of stories of when men were men and when women were mothers, and how rotten kids are these days. He took cold showers and scrubbed his arms with steel wool, combed his hair with a rusty iron rake and ate his cream of wheat cold because it built character.

"We keep reading about scandal after scandal in the business section," he said. "If I had to point to one primary crisis in business today, it wouldn’t be the lack of stable economic footing – it would be the lack of honesty. The building blocks and fundamentals of success are no different for GM and Citibank than they are for a one-woman shop. And they’re as fundamental in the 21st century as they were in Solomon’s day. Follow them, you will succeed. Ignore them, you may prosper for awhile, but your temple will eventually come crashing down."

This recession is everybody’s fault for being a bunch of damn slackers, remember that. In the Tall-Tale Teller’s day, he used to walk uphill both ways to go to work, and he’d only get paid less than a cent per hour to shovel venom spitting snakes into a pit of bears. America needs to get back to that time, get some good old-time religion, and start working on some character. And no running in the house.