Language alert: This entry contains a few bad words. Some were said by others and I quote them here. At least one, however, is all my own doing. There are times when only one word will do. I apologize in advance for the sensitive souls among you.
We’ll get to (and hopefully conclude) the venting. Before that, I have to say something about my day. As good as yesterday was at work…well….today was equally bad. Remember how everyone was thrilled to death with the stuff I was writing for them yesterday? This morning, they started sending me instant messages about changing just a few little things – and those little things basically would require me to rewrite entire projects. When I explained this to them, and mentioned that I’d be happy to do it, but that they’d have to put in a new official request (I get reviewed based on those requests, folks), a couple of them tried to argue with me and tell me that what they were asking didn’t involve any big rewrites and I should be able to take care of them with just a few tweaks here and there.
After I got annoyed enough, I sent them the code so they could see for themselves that they didn’t know what they were talking about. When 75% of a web page is comprised of variables, loops and logic, “a few little tweaks” ain’t gonna cut it when you’re asking for data from a different database.
I got my new requests eventually – and my PM got to knock some heads, which she’s been itching to do for months.
I had lunch with Joe (the director). We ate some Thai food at a place near my old office and talked a bit about brass bands, what we’d like for our own band to do this year, an upcoming brass festival, and (you know it!) Bob. He gave me a Black Dyke CD after we ate (do yourself a favor and listen to some of the sound clips), so I had a nice chance to listen to some of it while driving back to the office.
Joe’s given me a number of brass CDs over the years. He’s just nice that way.
For dinner, I raided my pantry and freezer and made some stuff that sounds absolutely disgusting, but it tasted pretty good. It contained mild sausage, carrots, chicken stock, black beans and acini de pepe. I put all of that in a pot, added some garlic, curry, cumin and chili pepper; and let it simmer for about 45 minutes. Anybody got a good name for it?
Ate some of that (I have leftovers) while watching 30 Rock and now, at 8:15, I’m sitting in my bed trying to work up the energy to finish my brass rant without falling asleep first.
Onward to venting.
As I recall, I left off my last rant with the beginning of the email thread that finally convinced me to quit the board. Bob had criticized the board’s best effort to keep the band from tearing itself apart and was still whining that nobody on the board had offered to vacate their seat so that new people would be guaranteed to move onto the board.
I’m going to have some fairly long quoted passages following. I sincerely hope Bob never decides to google the exact texts of our emails and stumbles upon this blog, but I guess that’s a chance I’ll have to take.
So I sent him an email and asked him exactly what he was trying to accomplish. I agreed with him that the meeting wasn’t perfect, but that it was a start. I told him that the agenda had been released quite late, in part, because he had been arguing against it. I reminded him that there had been a lot of very personal things said by some in the band – generally aimed at Joe – and that those comments were what prompted us to use not only an agenda but also an outside moderator. And I told him that I really did like him and that we’d had a lot of good times together, but that I agreed with the general sentiment that his constant negativity was wearing quite thin and had me considering quitting the band altogether.
His response to me was troubling. After initially denying that he was being negative (it was just something that everyone thought – and everybody had it wrong), he launched into a monologue about how hard it was for him to stay on the board and how he’d considered quitting; but that he felt a duty to stay on and “ask the tough questions” – for the good of the band, of course. Then he hit me with this:
What everyone seems stuck on is this concept of ‘personal attacks’. No, this is just business. …I think you don’t give members of the band enough credit for personal discretion and an unwillingness to hurt the feelings of a friend in a public manner.
I’m not TRYING to do anything other than ask the questions I feel are important and/or necessary for my duties as assigned me by the board. If my doing so seems negative, and unproductive then this board and this group are doomed to mediocrity. Someone has to be willing to ask the difficult, and often, unpleasant questions.
Call me a cynic, an old fart, a moron, or just mean person, but I call bullshit. The main agenda for “The Players Committee” (and I’ve been putting that in quotes every time because I refuse to accept it as an organized group) was to get together at a bar and bad-mouth Joe; and Bob was right there with them. So no, it’s not just business. It is personal. And no, I don’t give some members of the band – specifically the members who’s actions resulted in all the turmoil – credit for personal discretion.
And the idea that the band would be “doomed to mediocrity” if not for the selflessness of Bob…I didn’t know whether to laugh hysterically or be outraged. Let me say something here in black and white: The GBB is not a mediocre band. After hearing a lot of other bands, I can say that I don’t think it was mediocre during its first year. After ten years, it’s among the best in the country, which might explain that, while our local reputation is non-existent, we are known and respected pretty universally on the national brass band scene.
So I waited a day before I responded to Bob, hoping that my tone would die down a bit, and then I sent him the following note (I’ve changed a few names, and I’ll try to remember what I changed them to if I have to reuse them later in this tome).
Bob –
The only “tough” question I’ve seen on the table recently is whether or not Joe is to remain the conductor, and I daresay that that one question is what prompted the strict “no names” agenda, which I agreed with.
There is no more cause to point to Joe as the cause of any perceived mediocrity in the band (I don’t agree with that assessment, btw) than there is to point to Pablo’s consistent note cracking during solos, Matthew’s inability to play a roll, or my own problems centering pitch. We are a volunteer organization, we’re all learning and growing, and the band’s opinion certainly seems to be that we don’t kick people out because they’re not as good as somebody else might be. If Joe was unable to read music or didn’t bother coming to rehearsals, that’s one thing. The fact that he’s not as good as Fiedler is quite another.
… Whether you were aware of it or not, I was told that Pablo told Rich, Betsy and Michael that he planned to present Joe with an ultimatum during their proposed ore-survey lunch. …It is the perception among many people that there is a group that wants to pin whatever problems we have on Joe, and I DO think an unstructured meeting could have easily gotten way out of hand….
This was our first open meeting. Some issues were aired, some ideas were floated, some suggestions were made, and – most importantly – the band as a whole was given a chance to see that the board will listen. They were also invited to contact any or all of us with any problems via the web, email, or in person. Your initial response to all of that seemed to be, “Yeah, well that agenda certainly wasn’t very helpful,” and to me that’s negativism.
… when we actually DO do something as a board, even if it isn’t perfect, it irks the hell out of me to have one of our own board members immediately point out the warts.
I just wish you’d see the bright side every now and then or at least not shine a spotlight on the imperfections and then say, “Nothing personal. It’s just business.” It’s not a business. It’s a community group, and it’s a good one…
I’ve watched bands get destroyed because of politics and I don’t want it to happen to this one.
I don’t think that was overly harsh, do you? It was just a “lighten up, buddy. We’ve got problems” type of thing. Bob didn’t see it that way, and he responded in an extremely annoying fashion – by returning my email with his comments interspersed throughout it, in which he glossed over some points, argued with others, obsessed with others and attempted to steer things back to his pet project – seating a new board.
To my point that the only tough question was the one of removing Joe, he responded, “That question has not been asked yet. The seeming tough question for me right now is the board, its membership and elections.”
To my statement that there was no reason to point at Joe as a weakness, he said, “I’m not sure I, or many others would agree with you. …We are a volunteer organization, but that doesn’t mean we shouldn’t aspire to be the best we can be.”
When I mentioned the bit about Pablo stating that he was prepared to issue an ultimatum, Bob ignored the meat of the paragraph (heavily cut in the quoted passage above), and fired back with what was to become his favorite denial: “Who told you, that Pablo told Rich etc…. Hearsay. I never heard such an ultimatum.”
My comment that I thought his comments about the meeting were negative prompted this, somewhat curious, defense: “I really wish people wouldn’t interpret my words, to make them ‘seem to say’. I choose my words carefully, and I mean what I say. If I had meant, ‘that agenda wasn’t very helpful’, I would have said so. I didn’t.”
In other comments, he flatly denied that he’d ever “pointed out warts” in the board’s plans, he attempted to impress me with the long list of non-profit boards that he’d served on previously, he again stated that the board had done next-to-nothing since it had been formed, and he reprimanded me for suggesting that our band was not a business.
After reading his responses, I was in full “I will kick your ass mode,” and so responded to him as he responded to me – by inserting my comments below the comments he had made to my original comments. I began by asking him what was so important about replacing the board when he fully admitted that the board didn’t do much. To his assertion that “many other people” would disagree with me about the fact that not everyone is as good as everyone else at their job, I asked him if he – or any of those many other people – would be willing to excuse themselves from the band when I showed up with a bunch of graduate students who could eat their lunch. I pointed out that, almost unanimously, the band had said that it did not want to have open auditions for seats on a regular basis.
His trite little thing about “…that doesn’t mean we shouldn’t aspire to be the best we can be” sort of set me off a bit. I’ve never liked that expression, and I told him so.
And I must say that “aspire to be the best that we can be” is a cliche that has never made any sense to me, and doesn’t in this case. “The best that we can be” in what sense? The best that we can be with a better conductor? The best that we can be with all-professional players?
The best that we can be is just that. We try our best – and our best might not be as good as somebody else. So what?
And then we got to the whole “ultimatum” question. This was really the heart of the whole problem, as I’ve made clear in the three entries I’ve devoted to this. So I tried to lay it out for him in a calm manner:
Look, boss. Betsy told me what was said to her and Rich, in the presence of Michael, and which was alluded to in Pablo’s letter to the board. Stop playing with semantics, Bob.
Obviously, this “players committee,” which has had “several formal meetings,” and of which you are a part, is unhappy with things. I was told by someone to whom Pablo spoke that he used the word “ultimatum,” along with “all of the principal players” two days before a private meeting was to have taken place between you, Pablo and Joe.
If that was simply to have been a “we have concerns about communication” meeting, then I’d have to say that you, as a board member and as member of the “players committee,” were obligated at that point to bring it before the board. If, however, it dealt mainly with Joe and people being unhappy with HIM, then a lunch would make more sense. And as McKenzie had said to me “I’m quitting because of Joe,” I see no reason to disbelieve what Betsy told me about Pablo’s proposed ultimatum.
And you know, I believe it was said; so whether it was or not is really not the issue. If I believe it, it is a threat to my band. I will, therefore, keep it in mind while making any decisions about the band.
I responded in like manners to all of his other comments, quoted himself back to himself to show that his carefully-chosen words were exactly as negative as everyone said that they were, told him again that the board had indeed done a few things, and – above all and in almost every point – let him know that it perceptions that were causing trouble. The perception by the board that there was a group threatening to quit. The perception by the board that Bob was working against it. The perception by some that the band hadn’t won at the championships because of the conductor. I hammered away at that, doing whatever I could think of to make him understand that the best course of action was to get positive about things and move forward.
He responded with another long list of comments, defenses and denials. Particularly the denial that an ultimatum was ever considered – this in spite of the fact that I’d tried to explain to him that the truth or fiction of that particular incident was completely irrelevant. It was out there, and it needed to be addressed.
In an effort to lighten things up while needling him, I got some clarification on the whole “ultimatum” conversation and send him the following:
Bob – I wanted to clear everything up, so I asked Betsy exactly how that conversation went between her, Rich and Pablo. Here’s what she told me (I paraphrase).
P: I want to have a conversation with Joe because several of us have issues with him. All of the principals are willing to quit the band if there aren’t changes made.
R: Okay
P: I’m not going to make an ultimatum or anything.
B: Sounds like you just did.
So. My bad. Pablo did NOT say that he would present Joe with an ultimatum.
Silly, isn’t it? We’ve got a got telling two board members that he and “all of the principals” (interestingly, Betsy IS one of the principals) would quit if Joe didn’t – and then saying that it wasn’t an ultimatum. I thought it was hilarious. I thought BOB would think it was hilarious. I thought he and I could chuckle at Pablo’s gaffe and get back to being buds and playing our horns and yada yada yada.
Instead, I got this message the next day. It has bad words in it. I apologize. I’m not going to edit it in any way – except for the name changes, of course.
TWD…Pablo Portopotty here. This has got to stop RIGHT NOW. If I need to personally set the record straight, then so be it. I have personally met with Joe; couple that with the survey results and anything that needed to be said is in the open. What is below is NOT accurate. It is biased with personal feelings and omits MANY followup conversations with Rich that MORE than clarified the intentions of the group of players I spoke for. Tell Betsy that she and I need to talk ASAP!
I’m tired of this bullshit and I will not tolerate another minute of it!
Pablo Portopotty
See, Bob had opened up that final “conversation” email that I’d sent him on his phone and had shared it with Pablo. Not the entire 25,000-word exchange that he and I had been having – just that one little snippet about that “ultimatum” that I thought was funny.
I instantly ceased all correspondence with Bob. Having shared so many quotes from our emails in this blog, it may seem sort of hypocritical of me to say it; but I generally do not share private emails with people – particularly when those people are at the center of a storm of controversy and I am attempting to smooth things over with someone who I assume is also trying to smooth things over. I did not respond to Pablo, or pass on his message that he wanted to talk to Betsy. I did not smile and play nice when he gave me a half-hearted apology two days later at a rehearsal. I merely acknowledged that I’d received his note. And when Bob sought me out during a break in that rehearsal, and asked in a jovial way, “Are we still friends?” I looked him in the eye, smiled warmly, and replied, “No. We’re not.”
A week later, I sent an email to the board’s executive committee, informing them that I would not be on the board this year – and nominating Rich to be the new secretary (a position that Bob had thought was going to be his, thereby ensuring that his spot on the board would not be one of those being elected). I did not inform Bob that I’d done this, and – when we actually did hold elections last December – he was more than a little miffed to learn that the existing board, when electing the new officers, had voted in Rich as secretary instead of him.
This would probably be a good place to end this little rant, but I’ll throw in an epilogue just to bring it all up to today. In the open election, Bob did manage to retain his seat, and one person from the “Players Committee” took my open seat. The person (Bob’s backer) who had quit before me to “get away from the drama” was replaced by another guy who I think will do fine, although I don’t believe he’s all that gung-ho about the band per se.
Some crucial mistakes were made with the election. For one thing, it wasn’t widely advertised, and not everyone in the band was at the rehearsal when the votes were cast. Among the absentees was Bob. A bigger mistake may have been that, in spite of being chosen as secretary (and therefore ineligible to be voted for by the general membership), Rich’s name was on the ballot. In fact, he received more votes than anyone else. It was postulated (quite rightly) that the votes that he garnered would have been cast for someone else and could have had profound effects on the election results. I honestly believe that, had we thrown out the election and done it over, at least two more of the “Players Committee” would have been seated on the board. Because the actual tallies had been shared with the old board prior to our giving it a thumbs-up/thumbs-down, I believed that Joe and Betsy would have lost their seats.
So I made it my goal to screw Bob in my final vote on the board. The new president had approved the election. Joe had approved it. The treasurer had approved it. One other person had approved it. Bob had rejected it. Betsy and Rich both rejected it. I approved it.
The new board was approved by a 5-3 vote.
Not surprisingly, enough damage had been done late in the year to destroy the band’s morale. In September, October and November, I had tried to get the board to vote on our attending the championships this year. Each time, the vote was stonewalled. Bob didn’t want to go. Joe continued to say that he didn’t care one way or the other. Betsy and I wanted to go. Rich, for God-only-knows what reasons, kept stalling by polling the band (in three separate polls, the band – by slight majorities – wanted to go) and by saying that we needed to research the costs more carefully (Joe and I had provided flight fares, van rental estimates, and were working on getting numbers for a bus). The three other board members refused even to take part in the discussions, much less give an opinion.
So no vote on the championships was taken until after the new board was seated and after yet another polling of the band took place (this one with a slightly larger majority in favor of going).
The new board voted, 7-2, to skip the championships. We have no major events planned for this season, save for the slim possibility of a brief New England tour in June.
I’d love to do that tour, but I’ll be honest: I don’t want Bob in my home state.
He’d probably fuck it up.
TWD
