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AS A consultant-columnist, I often get e-mails from readers who have
become interested in my management services, except for one who
asked: “What kind of consultant are you, doing an alleged humor
column?”
That of course is the wonderful thing about
writing this column —you get exciting feedback, no matter how
impertinent it may appear to be. But the thing is—what may appear
to be funny may not read like humorous stuff to some people.
What may seem to be phenomenal or extra-ordinary
may appear like nothing to others, especially if he has had between
five to eight San Miguel beers for breakfast.
But most people, including editor Arnold, would
not hesitate to send an SMS that reads: “This one is funnier than
[the] last time.” This is why some readers would ask me: “Rey, I
like your sense of business humor. How can I do it with less
buzzwords?”
It’s not an easy question. But let me tell you
this. Ever since I tried to write a humor column for this space in
2002, I relied much on my personal anecdotes to include the
participation of my ex pen-pal Bonnie, now my constant companion and
lovable roommate.
Like what happened one Sunday shortly before 12
noon when a persistent Mormon preacher visited our home. I mean, he
was standing right in front of our gate while clutching what appears
to be a tattered Bible.
“Good morning, sir! May I ask you one
question,” he said while his eyes were fixated on something in the
wilderness of what I call a garden.
“Why not?” I replied.
“OK, Sir! Please tell me — do you say
prayers before eating your meal?”
I hesitated for a moment, and then said: “I
don’t have to. Bonnie is an excellent cook.”
Sure! Bonnie can cook good nutritious food because she learned a lot
from me the last time she saw me one week after our wedding day when
I trashed her over cooked sardines from a can.
Honestly, I didn’t develop a logical system of
humor until I got married. Now my sense of humor has progressed to
become what Bonnie has coined as “sophisticated humor” where
the punch line is better read than heard. Thank you.
If you want to develop the same “sophisticated
humor” you need to do kaizen—Japanese for small, gradual but
continuous improvement done over a long period of time. That’s
assuming that you’ve enough time in this world.
If not, you can experiment with kaikaku—another
Japanese term for breakthrough, revolution or radical improvement.
To some of us, kaizen is boring, tiresome, and laborious, while
kaikaku is exciting except that you’ve to spend a lot of money in
the process.
For example, kaizen is doing 5S good
housekeeping everyday— sorting through piles of paper, throwing
out unnecessary files, filing in an organized manner all important
documents, etc. Kaikaku means the installation of a multi-million
database system where you can store, scan, and search all those
important records.
Like what I said some
few columns ago in the case of the Bureau of Immigration, which is
often accused of being part of a big-time human syndicate. I’m
saying that kaizen is the best solution, which simply means
prohibiting immigration officials from bringing in their mobile
phones while on duty.
In this case, kaizen is much better than doing
kaikaku of installing expensive electronic jammers only to be
withdrawn at the last minute as it has become destructive to the
online operations of the bureau.
Kaizen is like Bonnie who is my spouse for
almost 25 years now. Kaikaku is the hot, sexy, body beautiful girl
next to you in a dark nightclub down Roxas Boulevard.
But look, over a period of time, kaizen could
become kaikaku. If done long enough, kaizen could become the next
big thing or kaikaku, like what the 73-year old Toyota has done to
beat the 100-year-old General Motors in its own ballgame.
So if you want real, clean, great jokes,
you’ve to test it with your wife. Like Dolphy, if you cannot put
up a good laugh, go and find someone younger like Zsa Zsa.
Rey Elbo is a business consultant
specializing in human resources and total quality management as a
fused specialty. Send reader’s feedback to <kairoshq@info.com.ph>
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