It’s a recent Sunday night, and I’ve managed to assemble the family for dinner at a local restaurant. The conversation centers briefly on professional and college sports and then takes an inevitable turn. As the dialog veers into the technology realm, it leaves me further and further behind until I can barely decipher individual words, much less comprehend obscure concepts.
I grasp a futile opportunity to contribute to the conversation by cheerfully asking my offspring, “is anyone going to work tomorrow?” My oldest son, Eric, momentarily takes his eyes off his cell phone and says, “no,” firmly. My middle son, Andy, is slightly more kind; he looks at me briefly, pauses, and replies, “nah.” My youngest son, Evan, sighs and explains in the patient tone and cadence of a parent talking to a five-year-old, “Mom, we don’t go to work.”
My sons all have technology jobs: analytics, DevOps, and cloud computing. I presume they all have a good work ethic; however, dressing in business casual and driving to a brick and motor structure is not part of their job description. In fact, employment applications actively involve discussing and negotiating how many in-office days are required every week. My adult children are convinced that they are most efficient and focused while working on a couch wearing sweatpants.
When I was a young associate attorney, working at home would have been the death knell of my career. Senior partners of the law firm would invariably walk around the office every morning at about 8:00 to see who was there – the daylight equivalent of a bed check. I was always present and dressed for court in case a senior attorney threw motion pleadings on my desk and exhorted me to appear in court within the hour. But showing up at the office was more than being available for last-minute court appearances; it was a chance to be seen and to demonstrate dedication to the practice of law.
These days, I drive my own employment bus. The dress code is different, but I’m still showing up at the office, every single day. Collaboration, collegiality, and commitment have no real technological substitute. Face time is inherently more effective and gratifying than FaceTime when a young associate needs mentoring or deserves congratulations. Rushing into a co-worker’s office to complain about a last-minute discovery motion or an irksome opposing counsel has no electronic equivalent.
That said, when it comes to exercise, I’m probably not going to show up at a gym. It’s not just that I dislike exercising indoors; it’s because I resent the structure of having to be somewhere at a particular time dressed in a certain way. I view gym time chitchat as a distraction from the focused effort of working out. I’m more immersed in independent activity than group endeavors.
So, I guess in some ways, I have more in common with my adult children than I thought. We all agree that our best efforts are most often achieved by solitary pursuits.
We also all agree that Mom and Dad will be picking up the restaurant dinner tab. And electronic payments by credit card work just fine.