What Does It Mean To Be A Man?
To: all@therandazzo.com
From: Samantha in HR
RE: Message From the CEO!!!!
Guys! Please read this very brief, very special announcement from TJRA CEO Joe Randazzo. We hope to make this a regular feature, as Mr. Randazzo provides news, wisdom, and wit for all of you! Please read it. Please.
-Samantha
All,
I’ve been thinking a lot about a certain question lately, a certain eternal question: What does it mean to be a man? It’s a question I must ask myself every six years or so, just to make sure I’m being true to the power within me. The inner-power that rumbles like a boxful of thunder, shaking with the intensity of 1 million Corvettes—the power that makes everything around me possible. The power of Me.
I’m no stranger to adversity. Not even close. Adversity and me are like twin brothers on a road trip who get kidnapped by Mexicans and thrown in prison just because one of them had a little bit of marijuana and the Mexicans thought that their parents were affluent. And, through the horrors of a Mexican prison, one of the twin brothers dies, and that twin brother is Adversity. It doesn’t end there, though: The other brother, me, goes on with his life but, because of the incredible bond between twins that only twins can understand, he wanders through each day feeling as though fate had torn a massive gash in his midsection—just a huge, gaping, bloody hole—and that some part of him would remain forever empty. Like a zombie, I carry on listlessly, calling out to a voice that does not answer. And just when it seems like all is lost, and I’m standing on the edge of the Golden Gate Bridge, I hear that voice; I hear the voice of my twin brother Adversity talking to me. And he is a ghost that only I can see. But he’s been to the future and knows many things that will help me get rich, and so we travel the country getting into adventures and looking for opportunities to use his incredible power to make me incredibly wealthy. But, lo, as a ghost, he relies on the unconditional love from his twin brother to maintain his existence on the Living Plane, and, because I cannot provide that, he dematerializes in a most-depressing fashion one day as we both stand in the rain outside Chicago.
And here we are today.
Of course, I’m only using this famous parable to make a broader point: Sometimes the man you become is not the man you meant to be. Sometimes, being a man means making tough decisions. Decisions that will have unforeseen repercussions for an estimated 850 years to come. Potentially dangerous repercussions. But do you know what? It takes a real man to make the tough decisions, and nothing is a greater test of whether or not one is a man than that man-to-be making those very same tough decisions, and then rating himself as a man or not based upon his ability to make decisions no matter the outcome. Understand?
After all, 850 years is a long time. And the children—all those deformed children and their pathetically skinny dogs, dear God, the way those dogs’ eyes just seem to stare right through you! But no one said it would be easy. And those who did are no longer employed at TJRA. They are no longer employed anywhere, if you catch my drift.
(They are having a very difficult time finding employment in this moribund job market.)
So, what does it mean to be a man? For me, it means believing in yourself, even if you consistently make decisions that result in mass kidnappings, two floods, the complete eradication of an indigenous language, and other horrible outcomes that would make a man of less fortitude succumb to self-doubt or a more thorough reading of the CIA World Factbook. To me, being a man means doing what’s right, even if everyone else is trying to tell you that it’s too “controversial” or “morally contemptible” or “against several local statutes” or “the equivalent of a small-scale holocaust on otherwise-helpless lab rats.” To me, being a man means helping old ladies across the street just for the sake of doing a kind deed, and not because you crave some sick sexual gratification. To me, being a man means having the strength to lay off the entire national sales team, effective Monday, in a subtle clause buried in a company-wide message of inspiration. To me, being a man means having big muscles just like my dad used to have. To me, being a man means propelling your company into the 22nd century with new technologies such as high-speed holograms and edible plastics. To me, being a man means eating lots of delicious meat and enjoying laughter, drinks, and discussions about sports around a picnic table and grill.
Therefore, you’re all invited to the 10th Annual TJRA Cookoutaganza this Saturday at 1 p.m. for some summer fun in the sun! Bring some kind of side and a great anecdote to share. See you there!
-Mr. Randazzo