On Contentment

Dad always thought laughter was the best medicine, which I guess is why several of us died of tuberculosis. -- Deep Thoughts by Jack Handey


Finally, after several days absence, I’m able to post again. Between this past Friday, which was crazy, and Monday which was even worse, I feel like my brain has been on overload.
Among the problems – er, challenges I’ve been dealing with recently, the following are included:

--A customer came in last week asking how to register a 50-year old wooden boat with no registration materials; how to register a 25-year old boat with an inboard motor purchased out of state with an improperly assigned title certificate; how to register a homemade aluminum boat with no registration certificate and no bill of sale; and how to register a new boat with no serial number imported from Asia…and he then came in later this week to register all of these at the same time...

--A customer brought in one of his employees who spoke little English and needed to renew his driver license. When I asked the employee for a Social Security number, he produced an obviously fraudulent card – something I hadn’t seen in several years. (When you apply for a license or state issued ID card, states now cross-check your Social Security number with the Federal government to verify the correct information is on file – to make it that much more difficult to create a false identity or steal another person’s identity.)

--A customer came in to title and register a vehicle he’d purchased from someone with an improperly assigned title – only to find out a different person had already scrapped out the vehicle. Because the title record was flagged as 'junk', the vehicle would have to be registered as assembled – requiring a physical inspection by a police officer, a new vin number to be assigned, a new vin tag to be ordered, etc. etc. etc. The type of transaction we process maybe once or twice a year...

--A customer has been in several times trying to obtain a state issued ID card; he has been continually arguing with me and my clerks about why he shouldn’t be required to bring in additional documentation from the list we provide, saying things like “look, I know my name, I don’t have to read it off a piece of paper to know who I am…”

--A customer was in to register a 150cc ‘scooter’ (name assigned to it on the out-of-state paperwork he provided) which, in our state, is a motorcycle; because it is a newer vehicle, we need a title to register it, or a surety bond is required. If you’ve never heard the term ‘surety bond’ before, consider yourself fortunate. Essentially, it’s an insurance bond drawn up by a local insurance agency to insure the owner for five years against someone else coming forward to claim ownership of the vehicle. It’s the kind of thing that we do once or twice a year – the paperwork is written up by hand, updated manually by our Department once everything is in order – and yet, this is perhaps the third or fourth one I’ve done in like a month…

--A customer bought a vehicle from a dealer who had already sold that vehicle in error (on paper, anyway) to another buyer, who got the wrong title and registration issued to him.

And on and on…

So by Monday afternoon, I was exhausted and drained, both physically and mentally. We got the office closed, and as I was walking out the door to go home, our janitor came up to the door.
Quick note to insert here: we’ve had the same janitor in my office for about three decades now, a local man in his seventies who is the nicest guy you’d ever hope to have clean your office. And he’s dependable, honest, hardworking. The company he works for recently lost the contract for our office, but soon after the new company signed on, I received a call from the owner of the new company asking if I knew anyone locally who might be interested in the position.
So of course I gave the owner the name of the janitor we’ve had for so long. And this past Friday, after we closed the office, I asked the janitor if he wanted to stay on and work for the new company. You would have thought I was giving him the keys to a new Ferrari with the way his face lit up, so to say he was appreciative is an understatement. So he’s thanking me for recommending him, and telling me how much he’s appreciated the opportunity, and how long he’s worked for us…

That was all on Friday.

So Monday evening, I close out the office and I’m exhausted and wanting so much just to be home and eat dinner and he comes to the door and tells me he has some paperwork for me – but that I probably don’t have time for that, I’m probably trying to get home. Which is just killing me, because I am tired, but after all, this guy has been loyal to us for so long, it’s the least I can do to sign a couple pieces of paperwork for him, right? I’m assuming the new owner needs me to sign a couple of forms for his application or something, in order to complete the new contract.
But actually, NONE of this was correct. Rather, while he was talking to me on Friday, at some point, he apparently felt like he was bragging himself up. I’m not exactly sure why he thought this – maybe it’s a generational kind of thing, maybe he felt like he’d tried to make himself look better than he should have. So after I tell him that, no, I’ve got time to look at the paperwork, he goes back to his car and gets a manila folder and follows me in to my office.

And when we get inside, he hands the folder to me and I lay it on the counter and open it up. It’s got like fifty pieces of paper in it – no exaggeration – and here is what I see: a letter of commendation from time he spent in the Air Force (he retired in the seventies); a letter of recommendation on what a great employee he’d been during the time he worked for a local food retailer; multiple references from individuals who live in the community; letters of thanks for the time he spent helping local charities; and on, and on, and on….

I was completely overwhelmed. I couldn’t believe what I was seeing, not that I thought any of it was inaccurate, but rather that he cared so much about his own reputation that he wanted to make sure that I understood he didn’t want me to think he was saying things about himself that weren’t true.

Which all put into perspective several things for me:

I need to be happy – content – with what I have, with the life I get to experience, with the job I have. He’s this thrilled, after all, to have a part time job as our janitor.
I should be so mindful as to care about my own reputation in the way that he does. He is the sort of person that, if he doesn’t show up one evening, is always careful to come in the next day to explain why he couldn’t be at work – that he had an emergency, had to help a family member, etc.

Little things are noticed. When we had the opportunity to keep him as our janitor, I jumped at the chance to get him hired back. Governments are notorious for hiring the worst of the worst when it comes to getting this kind of help (more on this in another post, perhaps). And I was eager to get him back not because of any one great thing he’s done, but because when you look at the expanse of little things he’s done in the time he’s been at my office, they add up to lot.

And I guess I write all this to say the experience I had in talking to him made me stop and think very consciously about what I find important, what I should find important, and how it stands up against what he values…

I should hope for this contentment in the position I have in life.