Let’s not all scurry to saunter through life

IOFTEN wonder who allocates the days of the year to good causes and sometimes rather silly causes. While I was pecking away at the keyboard one day last week, a message flashed onto my screen informing me it was “International Sauntering Day”. Apparently International Sauntering Day is a day to remind us to take things easy. Stop rushing about. What’s the hurry? Slow down. Saunter.

As a habitual saunterer, I was pleased to see my lifestyle receiving international recognition.

I feel no need to hurry about frantically. The thing about sauntering is that it puts you in close touch with fellow saunterers, who usually have plenty of time to exchange pleasantries.

Scurriers, on the other hand, don’t like anybody to think they’re not frantically busy.

Meet a scurrying friend and you’re unlikely to get more than a hand waved in fleeting greeting. Scurriers often carry props to reinforce their busy image. A clipboard is a good scurrying prop.

I once spent a nightmare few months working in Johannesburg, where everybody seemed to be in perpetual scurrying mode.

I sauntered through my days, doing the job I was being paid to do and wondering why everybody else was so frantic.

One man in particular seemed always on the point of nervous collapse. He would come storming past my office door at high speed several times a day, clutching a clipboard and slapping a hand to his forehead, muttering “Jeez! Jeez!”

I was intrigued and one day I stepped out of my little box and sauntered after him to find out what he did. And as far as I could make out that was what he did. He just rushed about clutching that clipboard and saying “Jeez!”.

Like all the people in that company, he had an imposing title, something like “Senior Assistant Deputy Management Consultant”. When I arrived to work there, a secretary came and asked me what my official title was, I said it was “Mister”.

That afternoon I was issued with an official name tag that said, “Mr Biggs”. It almost drove people mad. I kept hearing whispered conversation saying things like: “No, I’m not sure, but I think he’s been seconded to management for some secret project.”

That anonymous title gave me an aura of mystery and I was treated with respect and caution, just in case I was somebody. I wasn’t. I had been sent to Joburg to add up some columns of figures which turned out to be of very little importance anyway.

But the tea lady always gave me an extra biscuit when the trolley came round, just in case.

Maybe I should have had a label saying “Chief Executive Saunterer”.

Last Laugh

After Jim graduated from law school he joined his father’s law firm as a junior partner, eager to show off his legal skills.

On his third day in the firm he walked into his father’s office and said proudly: “You know that accident case you’ve been working on for the last four years? I finally solved it.”

“You idiot!” said his father. “That case has paid your law school fees for the past four years.”