I once worked for an abusive boss, a man who proved impossible to please. Congenitally mean, and though he wore no eye-patch, he had all of the charm, charisma and management style of your average, garden-variety Bond villain.
After three days on the new job, I knew I’d made a mistake. A year on the job, my misery factor was so high, I prayed (I was a church-goer in those days) one of us would either get a better job and move on — or that one of us would die, though preferably not me!
About two years in, when nothing developed either way, I woke up one morning and decided to take matters into my own hands. I went to the office and quit. On the spot. Like Boehner on last Friday, on my way out I sang a joyful tune (“Happy Days Are Here Again”) and skipped all the way to my car parked in the employee lot. Sweet, blessed, euphoric relief!
The memory of that untenable situation rushes into my head the other day as I watch John Boehner explain his reasons for resigning from Congress last Friday… and then sing ‘Zippity-Do-Da’ on his way out.
Don’t get me wrong, I’m a very proud liberal and no fan of Speaker Boehner. He and I are on opposite sides of the politic spectrum. That said, I couldn’t help but feel a little empathy for him a few days ago.
The truth is that Boehner did not leave completely on his own terms. He’d been in over his head from the start. Unreasonable crazies have taken enough control of the House of Representatives to block both reason and compromise. John Boehner was a hostage in his own party. (I suspect that was a contributing reason to the fact ol’ Boehner is always ‘bawlin’ his eyes out.)
Even so, but I can’t help but sympathize with him just a wee bit, despite his obviously misguided politics. He is finally out of the fray, at least from the idiocy that goes on in Congress. If you’ve ever worked in a miserable job or worked for a boss from Hell, your life overlapped with Boehner’s if by only a smidgen. A fistful of studies suggest a majority of Americans work in jobs they don’t enjoy. I guess the only thing worse than unemployment is having a job that you hate or working for an aspiring Bond villain — though I sometimes wonder if unemployment really is worse.
I must confess that all these years later, I also wonder if my ogre is still alive. If so, maybe it gives credence to the old saw that that only the good die young.
The only other thing I wonder about is whether or not ol’ Boehner skipped home, singing ‘Zippity-Do-Da’ all the way?