Don’t know how I missed this guy, but the NY Times announced today that Mike Davis, the world’s grumpiest boss has died.
How grumpy you ask? Consider some of these gems contained in memos in the pre-email days:
There will be no more birthday celebrations, birthday cakes, levity or celebrations of any kind within the office,” … “This is a business office. If you have to celebrate, do it after office hours on your own time.”
Do not speak to me when you see me,” the man had ordered in a memo the month before. “If I want to speak to you, I will do so. I want to save my throat. I don’t want to ruin it by saying hello to all of you.”
“On days you have to work, and you think you should be off, you wear slouchy dress attire,” he complained), idle conversation (“Do your jobs and keep your mouth shut!” he once wrote, in all capital letters) and office furniture (“I am paying you to work — not slouch in your chair with your feet up on a desk or table”).
The memos were originally published in a book: Letters of Note, by Shaun Usher.
I’ve had some interesting bosses over the years. My first boss was the foreman of the underground crew at Coast Electric and relished being able to haze the general manager’s son.
The overall boss at the lodge I worked at outside Glacier was such a piece of work that when told that he had once been mauled by a grizzly, I responded “too bad he didn’t eat him.”
And of course I worked at a couple of big firms, where everyone’s idiosyncrasies are on full display.