I watched James Morrison last night at the Basement with my girlfriend. The club was packed with the expectancy of regulars who had their vantage points picked out early. Ripe for people watching, the place offered an eclectic view of Sydney's night crawlers. The manager, a friend, guided us to the back of the club, up a few stairs. The emergency exit was right behind us, a convenient strategy in case... (use your imagination).
It was a busy night. The manager, our friend, was on his feet all the time, clearing tables, serving drinks, ordering his staff around, socialising and ensuring things were in order for the concert. For a moment, I was envious of another man's opportunity for hard work. He exemplified a virtue that is worth highlighting. Going the extra mile. Doing more than just the bare minimum required of your job. As a manager, I'm sure he could make his employess work hard. Work smarter, not harder, right? I wonder if we haven't taken that truism to the other extreme. In working smarter, have we forgotten the satisfaction found in the aftermath of labour?
Excellence is found in going the extra mile. In doing more than you're asked or required. In giving that little bit extra. No complaints, no need for affirmation. It's hard work applying that principle to our lifestyle. It's what makes the difference between great and satisfactory service.
My train of thought was broken by a woman with golden hair, curled up in buns. "Cos I know, yes I know, Hallelujah, I just love him so..." she sang. The music was beautiful. James Morrison played the trupmet, trombone, piano and (a strangely small and ornate) saxophone. Our friend, the manager was in the process of breaking up an argument between two patrons. I wrapped my arm around my best friend and slipped out into the cold, wet night, with the sounds of jazz and our feet tapping on cobblestone. It must feel good to end a night knowing you've worked hard and pushed yourself past your own comfort.
It was a busy night. The manager, our friend, was on his feet all the time, clearing tables, serving drinks, ordering his staff around, socialising and ensuring things were in order for the concert. For a moment, I was envious of another man's opportunity for hard work. He exemplified a virtue that is worth highlighting. Going the extra mile. Doing more than just the bare minimum required of your job. As a manager, I'm sure he could make his employess work hard. Work smarter, not harder, right? I wonder if we haven't taken that truism to the other extreme. In working smarter, have we forgotten the satisfaction found in the aftermath of labour?
Excellence is found in going the extra mile. In doing more than you're asked or required. In giving that little bit extra. No complaints, no need for affirmation. It's hard work applying that principle to our lifestyle. It's what makes the difference between great and satisfactory service.
My train of thought was broken by a woman with golden hair, curled up in buns. "Cos I know, yes I know, Hallelujah, I just love him so..." she sang. The music was beautiful. James Morrison played the trupmet, trombone, piano and (a strangely small and ornate) saxophone. Our friend, the manager was in the process of breaking up an argument between two patrons. I wrapped my arm around my best friend and slipped out into the cold, wet night, with the sounds of jazz and our feet tapping on cobblestone. It must feel good to end a night knowing you've worked hard and pushed yourself past your own comfort.