The following letter is a composite of comments from road warriors in the field to the highly respected and esteemed office dwellers who occupy the ivory towers, the headquarters, or the maze of cubicles. The inhabitants of the office are the curators of scrolls, documents, data, financial information, and other incredibly necessary data and processes that allow the organization to function. The road warrior is the tireless face and voice on the front lines of the information supply chain, responsible for maintaining that delicate balance between the vision of customers and the magic of what really happens behind the curtain.
“Did you get my electronic calendar invitation to our meeting in ten minutes?”
No, I did not receive your electronic meeting invitation.
I am currently sitting across from a very important client and giving him my full attention. The mobile phone is on Vibrate and put away to avoid distractions. The laptop is off and in its case. I have a pad and paper in front of me to take notes on the highlights of our conversation. The client has my full attention, especially when we are face to face. The client has specific needs and a vision of the future. I need to understand that vision and effectively communicate how our features will meet customer needs. When we are together, the client and I, we have a purpose that isolates us from the interruptions of the outside world. Our purpose is to find the best solution for a mutually beneficial trade agreement.
When the meeting is over, I will have to use my notes to write a full document that I will send to the ivory towers. This document should accurately convey the details of our conversation with the client’s needs and vision. You must accurately evaluate and explain the mutually beneficial business agreement and establish the agreements or commitments of our conversation. My notes of those critical personal moments shared with the client will become the basis for a thesis to be written many hours later in a hotel room in another city.
That e-calendar invitation is buried among two hundred and one other emails, many of which are from other customers. I’ll make them all when I sit at my hotel room desk, eat my hotel cookie and drink my single hotel room coffee. The hotel has a jacuzzi, pool and amenities that I will never see. What are the true comforts for a road warrior? High speed internet connection, clean bed, hot shower and continental breakfast are what makes Home Sweet Home.
“Did you get the email with the attached 32MB video of the receptionist’s granddaughter’s birthday party, the company-sponsored Bar-Be-Cue footage, the invitation to wash your car in the parking lot, or the plethora from other emails with embedded cartoons and huge attachments?”
Some places still define high-speed Internet connection as a 56k modem or a single wireless router available in the hotel lobby. Hopefully the download will be complete before I finish packing my suitcase in the morning. I can’t wait to read the company’s internal ad about yesterday’s hot lunch, accompanied by free oversized images of greasy burgers, fries, and pizza slices. I’m tempted to send an email with embedded images of my banana bran muffin, but I’m afraid the humor will only create another annoying shock for my fellow road warriors. Also, someone already beat me to the punch and replied with a “Reply All” message to Human Resources that included a social security number and a full medical history. There will be at least ten or fifteen more “Reply All” messages that simply say “Thanks,” but I won’t know until I open them. I’ve worn out the letters on my delete key.
“Did you read the email I just sent you?”
Thanks for the phone call. Now I drive in bumper-to-bumper traffic with one hand on my cell phone so I can talk to you. In my other hand is a pen, ready to scribble notes on the printed instructions I downloaded from mapping software three days ago. I know this call must be very important if you take the time to write the email and then call to make sure I see it and respond. Where I am?
On the passenger side of the car is a slowly withering packed lunch. On the console by my elbow is a cup of car-temperature coffee. I drive on my knees and try to avoid that other erratic driver who seems to be paying no attention to the road or traffic. Was that my way out?
That’s right, my cell phone does receive messages. I wonder if I can scroll through my messages and read the exact text while I’m talking to you about the attachments. Can you hear me? I think I found the email you speak of. Yes, this is the email. Was that a police officer I just passed by? Is it legal to talk on a cell phone while driving in this city? You better not risk it, for now I have to hang up and I’ll call you. You may not be able to talk on your cell phone, but I don’t think there are any laws about emailing or texting on your phone while driving, not yet.
“I just sent you an instant message, did you get it?”
Oh, you mean the instant message you sent to ask me if I read the email you called while I was trying to drive? Sorry I missed that one. Calculating the route, when possible, make a legal U-turn. Oh, it’s the agenda for the conference call that started five minutes ago. Do I need to provide a rolling report and forecast based on today’s staff meeting? What meeting?
“Oh, we decided to change that feature three days ago. It’s not available anymore.”
I see, the functions that I just explained to our client are no longer available. New features will cost three times as much. The meeting you just scheduled is to introduce you to how we’re going to sell these expensive new features and provide an updated forecast on revised revenue. What, is it my turn to present? You do realize I’m hundreds of miles away right now, right? No, I can’t email my presentation and review it with everyone on the phone at this time. Why? I haven’t started the presentation yet. I must have missed the ad. What’s that? Oh, you weren’t aware of the changes either and there was a PM announcement. I totally get it, trust me, I really get it.
So we have a new company strategy and a new corporate direction. We have decided to reinvent ourselves. There will be a big meeting to present our new business plan and assigned goals. I got it. What’s that? Oh, I need to submit my presentation on how I will achieve those goals and my plan needs to be submitted before close of business today. Sorry, you’re breaking up. It must be a bad connection because now I’m close to the airport. I don’t know if you can hear me, but if you can, then I want you to know that I’ll be getting on a plane soon and I’ll call you later from another city to find out what you’re trying to tell me. Better yet, send an email.
“I bet you really enjoy those frequent flyer miles.”
You really have no idea how much I look forward to taking my vacation home. After several weeks on the road and a different hotel room every night, I look forward to having my own bed, the one I chose and paid for. On these days we need to arrive at the airport at least two hours before the scheduled flight. This is not productive time. Imagine spending a quarter of your eight-hour day at the office standing in line with shoes in hand. There is a line to check in, a line to go through security, and a line to board the plane. When you arrive, queue to collect your luggage and another queue to collect your rental car. Of course, you can skip the line to collect your luggage if you’re not traveling with toothpaste, shaving cream, deodorant, gels or liquids. You can identify fellow travelers who have chosen to expedite cattle car processing by disposing of their toiletries. It would be rude to discuss how you can identify these passengers, just trust me on this, you can.
Working on the computer at a tray table is only effective if you have the proportionate arms of a Tyrannosaurus Rex and if the individual in front of you is unable to recline. You will most likely stare at the pots of liver on the bald spot on top of your head in front of you for hours. Remember to bring large bills in exact change to pay for your wedge of moist cheese, two individually wrapped crackers, and a box of sixteen fabulous hand-selected raisins. Request a receipt so you can spend your snack in the air, and then pay for the aisle or window seat next to you so you can claim it as an entertainment expense if the snack exceeds your approved per diem.
If you fly as often as I do, you also get the benefit of memorizing shortened movie lines you wouldn’t pay to see in theaters. Of course, scenes of profanity, violence, and parental guidance are removed to make the movies safe for general audiences. It goes without saying that we will never see Ozzy Osbourne on eight-inch monitors. Would you like to hear us recite the entire dialogue from “Coal Miner’s Daughter” or “Vanity Fair”?
“You must hate your job.”
On the contrary, I love it. The trips, the schedule, the schedules and the discomforts are sacrifices that must be made in pursuit of a passion. Road warriors don’t travel for the thrill of hotels, or frequent flyer miles, or because we enjoy restaurants. Travel and time are a means to an end, and that end is something much more meaningful and personal. If you would talk to us, really talk to us for a few hours, you would learn that true passion is family. For some road warriors, that quest for achievement means a better life for a spouse or children at home. Every day away from home is a personal sacrifice that is an investment for those left behind. For other road warriors, family is defined as co-workers in the ivory towers. For these people, it is the professional family and the success of the organization that keeps the fire burning inside them. For some other road warriors, extended family includes a special personal relationship with clients and a true dedication to helping each client achieve their individual aspirations. For the vast majority of road warriors it is a combination of all of these things, family at home, family at work, and the client’s extended family on the road.
We make sacrifices, but we are grateful to have the opportunity to do so and grateful to the people in the ivory tower. Office workers are a source of constant support and fun, so we salute them
To be honest,
Your devoted road warrior in the field
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words of wisdom
“Do Not Disturb signs must be written in the language of hotel maids.”
-Tim Bedore
“The road to our destination is not always straight. We go the wrong way, we get lost, we turn around. Maybe it doesn’t matter which way we start. Maybe what matters is that we start.”
– Barbara Hall, north exposure
“The road we travel can be long and arduous, filled with many challenges. However, it is the same road that leads back home and is never too far away.”
– John Mehrmann, Executive Blueprints Inc.
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About the Author:
John Mehrmann is a freelance writer and president of Executive Blueprints Inc., an organization dedicated to improving business practices and developing human capital.