Work Daze

As you well know, it takes a big bowl of bad to get me stirred up. I have lived through stock market scandals, political pay-offs, even the cancellation of “The O.C.,” and have not stirred from my Barcolounger.

Yet the latest kafuffle about excessive executive compensation has got my dander up, and believe me, you don’t want to anything to do with my dander, up or down.

The heart of the issue is not so much the gigantic paychecks cashed every two weeks by America’s business leaders, nor their silly habit of backdating the buckets of stock options they regularly receive. Everyone understands how difficult it is to live from paycheck to paycheck, and we assume that making ends meet is just as stressful when you’re worrying about how you’ll buy your next Porsche as it is to be worrying about how you’ll pay for your next meal.

I take the same empathetic approach to the so-called scandal of backdating stock options. We all lie about what the calendar tells us. The fact that certain brilliant MBA-types fibbed about the dates of their option awards is no worse than Pamela Anderson claiming that she is 28. [Note to Pam: please stop calling. I’m sorry it didn’t work out with Kid Rock, but I have no interest in a rebound romance.]

Anyway, the big fuss these days concerns highly-placed corporate executives who have pretty much run their stock prices – if not their companies – into the ground. Former CEOs like Hank McKinnell of Pfizer and Bob Nardelli of Home Depot have been so bad at their jobs that even their Board of Directors noticed.

The outcome of this scrutiny has been harsh. Both CEOs have been pinked slipped, but not before they were green-slipped retirement packages worth over $200 million dollars – each.

To some narrow-minded thinkers, a $200 million dollar reward for doing a really bad job is considered an affront, if not a downright crime against nature. I disagree – 200 million percent. CEOs like Nardelli and McKinnell are to be praised, not buried in bad press.

Just imagine what the working world would be like if we cut off compensation to people who did bad jobs. People like you and me would be broke, that’s what it would be like. Personally, I’m so bad at my job that my manager actually prefers it when I spend the day slacking. “I’d rather have you sleep than work,” is the way she so charmingly puts it. “That way, you can’t screw up.”

[Of course, one can screw up while sleeping at your desk. I once fell out of my Aeron chair and banged my head on the stapler, which caused a nasty bruise, which resulted in two years of disability, plus a fat settlement for punitive damages.]

Still, given the high level of management incompetence in business today, it is surprising that ineffectual bosses are rewarded 24-karat golden parachutes. I believe the boards of directors at Pfizer and Home Depot are not shelling out mega-fortunes because their CEOs are inept. The millions are because they have been embarrassed! How can they hold their heads up at the country club, where all the other incompetents CEOs are still employed, without a money cushion on which to rest their gently paddled behinds?

Now I know that some readers may think that I am being overly generous to people who have already been the recipients of too much generosity. And I know that other readers may feel that I have been too harsh on people who have been dealt a bad hand by the uncertainties of the marketplace.

But let me prove that these failed CEOs, now rich beyond imagination, are truly what we Harvard MBA’s call knuckleheads. You’d think they’d be spending their days spending their money when, in fact, they’re focused on where they will be working next! If thee or me were lucky enough – and incompetent enough – to have a $200 million payoff, we’d never work again. To be honest, if I had $200 dollars more than I needed to pay my bills, I would never work again.

But Mr. Nardelli, for one, reports he is busily fielding job offers. He will probably be working next at a private, rather than a public company, where there is significantly less public scrutiny. And who can blame him. If you’re going to fail your way into your next $200 million dollar payoff, it’s better to do it where no one can see you.