Kitchen table talks...

As the staff members of Donald Trump are saddled with a toddler who expects a round of applause after each error-free written word and assumes that he, with his tiny hands, has the right to grab a candy from the reward jar, his doctor needs to mediate constantly about the pills that should keep the tantrums under control and a small army of alternative news story writers are making overtime to counter critical notes that appear in the media about the Boar of Pig Paradise with a positive, popularity affirmative message on one of his favorite TV-channels, the simple sawdust maker should also find manners to put others on a pedestal but at the same time fight against the tendency to make that submissive nod and overcome that subcutaneous anger inside when experiencing allusions to superiority, specially at moments where subtly references are made to the depending situation in which the customer should be treated as a King. It's Thursday the 23rd of February 2017 and while a frustrated blond lady was awake all night because the Netherlands finally legalized the production of weed, the most beautiful plant created by her own God, and from now on will not be watered by criminals but by imported East European seasonal workers in professional poly tunnels and soon will be packed with duty sticker and a barcode before it will be placed in the display case of the coffee shops, the sawdust maker slept so soundly that the sweating awakening is the only reminder of an angry nightmare. That you occasionally have to put life on its head to see if there is any more hidden success, is only evident for the inexperienced fortune-hunters to which I myself, with more than 50 years of incoherent jumping from straw to straw, no longer feel drawn to. The whimsical contrasts between character expressions and learned communication techniques, which in the encounters with younger generations begin to be more and more obvious, make clear that age does make a difference. It's a strange experience to hear terms like "used to be" and "in our time" from your own mouth, while you live with the believe that you just joint adulthood a few years ago. Despite the experiences in "management" functions and running a private company it seems an impossible task to blend into the new world full of rhetorical terms as "direction considerations", "mirror conversations", "scenario planning", "future exploration studies" and "acceleration diaries" while maintaining common sense. A kitchen table talk has a different meaning at the lonely hill than in the world of consultants and and gouvernment officials. Instead of dirty coffee cups, a full ashtray and the occasionally empty wine bottle, the consequences, rather than a good feeling or a hangover, nowadays are various reports to the intensive process of agenda-setting, analysis and dialogue in a billable proof of effort. The aversion to receiving well-rehearsed impersonal compliments, performance analysis read in management books and “spontaneously made personal walkway conversations” make that formally incentive felt responsibility for "doing your job" has turned into a brain exhausting way of behaving with consideration of "little pieces" of positivity, commitment, communication and gratitude. It even doesn't sound strange anymore, in a society full of marketers and external consultants, that the windows of a blind do not have to be washed, he doesn’t notice anyway. Just as preschoolers expect a reward for the faultless writing of four letter words, it seems that compliments for found budget cuts and reports full of inhuman non-solutions by all sorts of indefinable trained advisors, by paying their expensive bills, are giving politicians and board members a peace of mind. Sometimes the sawdust maker longs back to "earlier days" where delivering a creative performance to a customer, he or she could express the appreciation for the work simply with the words "job well done"