With the adventure of our refrigerator repairs behind us, we were able to get back to the task at hand -- the Office Odyssey. To this point, we've spared you the details of what it's like to work a fulltime job on the road. There was a good reason for this exclusion -- I really haven't done any work since the Odyssey began. See, I took the first week off as vacation, and here in the second week, well, it just hasn't seemed like the right thing to do, you know what I mean?
I mean, after all, we're in Yellowstone, for crying out loud. Why would I
want to write a bunch of help files for a network management console when I
could go check out Old Faithful, hike down to the Yellowstone River's Lower
Falls, or angle for trout in the Firehole river? It's just not the right
thing to do.
Herein lies a major challenge for this Odyssey -- balancing the rigors and requirements of fulltime employment with the enticements of the open road. The tendency and temptation to regard an Office Odyssey as just another name for a vacation can be very seductive. Case in point -- yesterday, we wanted to reach Jackson Hole, but we also wanted to see some of the major sights of Yellowstone. Seeing sights and writing a technical manual are fundamentally incompatible. I had to make a choice.
Naturally, I chose Yellowstone -- how could I not? My priorities, as I imagine are those of most people, are inherently predisposed to value natural wonders of the world over a day's work on a software manual. Did I neglect my employer? Not really. An essential element of my choice between Yellowstone and work was weighing the effort I would need to supply to meet my deadlines in the coming weeks against the opportunity to sample Yellowstone's wonders. Would I be able to work a little extra in the coming days to atone for some sightseeing now? The answer, in this case, was yes.
In the future, however, the balance may necessarily tip in favor of work. This sort of dilemma illustrates exactly why Extreme Telecommuting can work only if there is trust between you and your employer. And you have to care enough about your job to do it at least halfway decently to earn that trust. Otherwise, you'll just hole up in the Million Dollar Cowboy Bar in Jackson, Wyoming, sucking down beers, laughing at newcomers trying to mount the saddles that double as barstools, and marveling for the hundredth time at the hand-gestures performed in unison by the house country band. And then you'll get fired. Or worse, they'll ask you to come back to the office and stop your telecommuting ways. Trust me -- I've seen it happen. It ain't pretty.
Heavy stuff, huh? Sometimes an Office Odyssey can get that way, but I promise not to hit you too hard or too often. Gotta keep them wheels rolling, right?
Coming into Jackson from the relative boonies, we were a little bit shocked, but undeterred. We pressed on. Our first stop was at the music store. I needed new strings. We arrived at their door at 7:01, just after they closed at 7:00. I knocked on the window, only to be met with a helpless shrug from the clerk. "What can I do? I'm only a clerk." No big deal, right? So, we hop next door to Cyber City, where, among other things, they boast Internet access. The place today is crammed full of kids playing video games at computer terminals. No one appears to work there. After about five minutes of conspicuous lurking on our parts, peeking behind counters and whatnot, one of the older kids gets up from his game to ask if he can help us. Inquiring about the advertised internet access, we were told, "Dude, no phone lines yet. But they're supposed to be in tomorrow."
Grrr. We were a mite perturbed. We decided we needed to relax a little bit, so we went to a nearby bar to catch the NBA Finals and have a beer. After a bit, Kristanne decides that she'd like another beer. The waitress, in turning from the bar to give Kristanne her beer at our adjacent table, manages to knock the beer over on her tray, spilling part of it on herself, and pumping up a bunch of foam in the bottle. We commiserate with her as best we can. "That's too bad," I say, probably not all that convincingly. "Awwww...," Kristanne laments, a little more believably. Then, the waitress proceeds to place the now-partially-empty, foamed-up beer in front of Kristanne and request $3.00.
"Ummm...," says Kristanne.
"Ummmm....," says I."Oh, you want another one?," says she.
Yeah, but with more foam and less beer this time, if you please. The house band started up not long after that, driving what few customers were in the place out into the street, looking for other places to watch the game. Positive reinforcement time. We set to chanting, "We love Jackson. We love Jackson."
Our general delivery mail was waiting for us at the Jackson post office, so we needed to stay in the area until it opened in the morning. Needless to say, at this point, we didn't want to. We were considering a hotel so we could get the page up, but when we discovered that the local Motel 6 wanted $52.00 for a single, we decided against it. Similarly, we rejected the campground that wanted $32.00 for a site with an electric hookup. After much driving around, we finally located a public campground that only wanted $12.00. I wrote the web page, and then we went to bed, thoroughly disgusted with Jackson Hole.
Today, we replace the Extreme Shot of the Day with the Extremely Disgusted Shot of the Day. In the proud tradition of Siskel and Ebert, we give Yellowstone two thumbs up, Grand Teton two thumbs up, and Jackson Hole the finger. This shot is appropriate since you will pretty much need drugs if you decide to stay in Jackson Hole.
We'll try to cut down on the vitriol tomorrow -- I promise. See you then!
Total Miles for 6/11 = 283