The Wonderful Wizard of Metaphors

While having lunch with my good friend Scott, he told me about a recent metaphor he used at work. His company is planning to build a new corporate office and seeking ideas from all levels within the organization. He suggested that they should make it like the Emerald City from The Wonderful Wizard of Oz, not literally, but capture the essence of a fabulous place that's bright and colorful where everyone feels like singing and dancing. He was imagining that scene in the movie where they enter and see the horse of the different color for the first time.

"Then I went on to wikipedia to get some specifics to add to my metaphor..." he went on as I started laughing because I had just read the book with my children and knew exactly where this was headed. In the book, the Emerald City isn't quite so beautiful and shiny. Read for yourself.

DOROTHY AND THE GANG ENTER THE CITY FOR THE FIRST TIME:

"I am the Guardian of the Gates, and since you demand to see the Great Oz I must take you to his Palace. But first you must put on the spectacles."

"Why?" asked Dorothy.

"Because if you did not wear spectacles the brightness and glory of the Emerald City would blind you. Even those who live in the City must wear spectacles night and day. They are all locked on, for Oz so ordered it when the City was first built, and I have the only key that will unlock them."

He opened the big box, and Dorothy saw that it was filled with spectacles of every size and shape. All of them had green glasses in them. The Guardian of the Gates found a pair that would just fit Dorothy and put them over her eyes. There were two golden bands fastened to them that passed around the back of her head, where they were locked together by a little key that was at the end of a chain the Guardian of the Gates wore around his neck. When they were on, Dorothy could not take them off had she wished, but of course she did not wish to be blinded by the glare of the Emerald City, so she said nothing.

LOOKING AT THE WORLD THROUGH GREEN SPECTACLES:

Even with eyes protected by the green spectacles, Dorothy and her friends were at first dazzled by the brilliancy of the wonderful City. The streets were lined with beautiful houses all built of green marble and studded everywhere with sparkling emeralds. They walked over a pavement of the same green marble, and where the blocks were joined together were rows of emeralds, set closely, and glittering in the brightness of the sun. The window panes were of green glass; even the sky above the City had a green tint, and the rays of the sun were green.

FINALLY, OZ COMES CLEAN ABOUT THE SECRET OF THE EMERALD CITY:

"Then I thought, as the country was so green and beautiful, I would call it the Emerald City; and to make the name fit better I put green spectacles on all the people, so that everything they saw was green."

"But isn't everything here green?" asked Dorothy.

"No more than in any other city," replied Oz; "but when you wear green spectacles, why of course everything you see looks green to you. The Emerald City was built a great many years ago, for I was a young man when the balloon brought me here, and I am a very old man now. But my people have worn green glasses on their eyes so long that most of them think it really is an Emerald City, and it certainly is a beautiful place, abounding in jewels and precious metals, and every good thing that is needed to make one happy."

So, to the people who read the book, Scott was unwittingly suggesting that his company build a sham headquarters that would create a facade of corporate success. I'm guessing they loved the idea.

Don’t Create Peas on the Cob

Father Guido Sarducci did a great bit several years ago about monk who through genetic engineering developed peas on the cob. The punchline was, "Now, to me, 'dis makes a no sense at all. You take something that taste bad, and you make it a difficult to eat."

Last night, I experienced peas on the cob at Godfather's Pizza. Tuesday night is buffet night so it was busy. As we walked in, a women and two children were walking out and she warned us, "Good luck finding a place to sit. They've got all these tables reserved."

So as we walked up to the counter, I noticed that every table that wasn't occupied had a "Reserved" sign on it. I naturally felt concerned. There was no line, so I stepped right up and ordered three buffets with my coupon for a dollar each and asked, "If we can't find a place to sit, can I have my money back?"

The girl at the register looked at another girl, who shouted over to us, "The reserved seats are for PAYING customers. So once you go through the buffet just take a reserved table." I relaxed about finding a place to sit, but I became anxious about why all these non-paying people were at Godfather's on a Tuesday night.

I sent my sons through the buffet while I went off to hunt us down a table. I secured one close to the endless stream of pizzas and clearly claimed the "Reserved" table with my plate and the boys two drink cups. Then treated myself by filling my cup with ice-cold Dr. Pepper.

When I returned to our table, two people were starting to sit down there. I said, "Excuse me, but that's our table."

"No," they replied. "It has a 'Reserved' sign on it so we can sit there."

"And my plate and two cups." The woman was quite large and honestly, quite scary. Plus there were plenty of "Reserved" tables, so I continued, "Let me get my stuff, and I'll move to another table."

The rest of the evening, we made sure that at least one of us served as a table sentry guarding are precious booth while the rest of us refilled our plates again and again. When one of the roaming table monitors came within our vicinity, I asked, "Excuse me, but I'm just curious, what problem are you trying to solve with these 'Reserved' signs?"

"Well," she explained, "Tuesday nights are buffet nights, so they are our busiest nights. When people come in they often have to stand in line, and so some people would go and reserve tables, while their friends or family would go order. We had people who had paid, but couldn't find a spot to sit, while those who hadn't even paid yet already had tables. So now, the 'Reserved' signs are only for people who have already paid."

"So did that fix the problem?"

"Oh, yes. Now only people who have paid can sit down."

In the meantime, they walked at least one family, created tension for me twice, and in the process convinced me never to return to buffet night. "Now, to me, 'dis makes a no sense at all. You take seats that are hard to find, and you make it a difficult to understand."

2 More Noticeably Different Signs

My family and I volunteered to serve on the "clean up" crew at the Topeka Dog Show this week. Events like this always provide at least a couple of examples of signs trying to dictate behavior. These two signs posted at the Topeka Expo Center caught my eye, so I added them to the collection of noticeably different signs.

THE BIG NO > there was an entire room dedicated to crating and grooming animals, so in the main arena they had these signs posted about every 10-15 feet. I love when the signs so clearly get ignored.

CAUSE AND EFFECT > I'm very curious about what problems they were having in this room. Taped on this very plain, not inviting door was this sign of three "no"s. I can figure out the "no admittance" and "no knocking," but what are they trying to prevent with "no change." Do they not want to give change for a dollar? Or do they want to stop people from changing their outfits? Or are they just adamant about things staying the same?