I’ve had countless people write to me, as a workplace columnist, to describe the security guard standing next to them as they packed up their soon-to-be-former desk and painfully did a final perp walk out of the building.

Mine was not nearly that cinematic. Just me, a bunch of boxes and a coworker with whom I shared the office looking ashen. That might not mean much to you, but considering that she is African American, it was a weird way to see her.

Lucky for me, the company I worked for is not exactly a burn-the-candle-at-both-ends-kind-of-operation. Except for the days when there is an afternoon staff meeting, mostly the building starts to clear out about 3 pm. That’s when people choose to show up for work at all.

So as I scrambled to pack up my stuff, luckily I saw precious few people.

As I walked down the hallway, one guy grabbed me by the shirt and said, “You’re the lucky one here, you get to escape this zoo.”

Another woman didn’t say a word. She just hugged me with a tear in her eye. She started to say something and then just grabbed me again. Then she scurried down the hall.

One image kept coming to mind as I try to sum up the feelings that were circulating around my psyche like really powerful Jacuzzi jets in the hour after being fired. It was an old family picture, let me explain.

My sister lived with her husband for ten years. Then one day we got a call that she was moving out, into her own apartment. Within hours of that call, my mother had strategically removed any photos that contained my sister’s ex from the house.

But there was one photo that my old man really liked, so my mom couldn’t just toss it. The photo was of our extended family that was decoupaged onto a piece of wood. My mother was more than up to the challenge. She scratched out my sisters husband’s face and body, leaving a gaping hole in the photograph. She then glued a tree over where he’d been.

It might have worked, if my ex brother in law had been standing on the end of the assembled group of family members. But seeing my family gathered around that clumsily glued tree makes me laugh to this day.

That’s exactly how I felt. Like I was crudely scratched out of my own picture. In the coming days I probably will find the words to discuss the emotional devastation in greater detail. But suffice it to say that it is a searing pain that someone who is fired won’t soon forget.

My a-ha: If people in Seattle have a million ways to describe rain, people who are fired have as many to describe the numb feeling that comes over your body and soul. Try as you may to orient yourself, it only comes to you with the passage of time. At least I hope so.

Next installment: No soup for you.

About the Author: Bob Rosner is a best-selling author and award-winning journalist. For free job and work advice, check out the award-winning workplace911.com. Check the revised edition of his Wall Street Journal best seller, “The Boss’s Survival Guide.” If you have a question for Bob, contact him via bob@workplace911.com.

My boss, and his henchman, arrived promptly for the meeting to discuss my sales update. It was 4 pm on Friday afternoon, approximately 48 hours ago. 

I knew something was up because my boss started speaking totally in sentence fragments. “I’ve made up my mind, things aren’t working out, I need people to get along, it’s time for a new direction, you can’t be having fun.” 

 Later I remembered that many termination specialists, like George Clooney in the movie “Up in the Air,” advise bosses when they fire someone to never pull a Donald Trump and say the “F” word. So it becomes a very weird game of firing euphemisms that fall on you drop-by-drop, like a painful kind of water torture.

 I said something, I honestly can’t remember what it was. This triggered my boss’s loop to start all over again, albeit in a slightly different order.  “Things aren’t working out, I need people to get along, you can’t be having fun, it’s time for a new direction, I’ve made up my mind.”

 I don’t know if he just screwed up the speech the second time, or if the termination gurus suggest that the firing sentence nuggets be shuffled like a deck of cards before being delivered each time. 

 Either way it was totally disorienting. Because he didn’t tell me directly that I was being fired, I  had to say the word inside my own head. So what happened is that I ended up firing myself. How sadistic is that?

 I do remember my next question, I asked why I was never given a chance to change my behavior before I was fired. The reply was quick, and clearly rehearsed, “Come on Bob, we’ve got lots of documentation.”

Documentation? Did anyone think to share it with me before I was fired? After? It would be nice to be consoled that there is a filing cabinet somewhere that answers the riddle of my firing, but clearly being fired by my company is a process that makes the selection of the Pope appear totally transparent. 

 Was the relationship between me and my boss flawed? You betcha. But it could have been humane to at least have one counseling session before the execution. Heck, even a kangaroo court would at least provide the illusion of concern and participation. 

 But alas it was not in the stars for me. My trial, sentencing and execution were neatly wrapped in one ten minute meeting.

 Believe it or not, I’m a best-selling business author. And yes, this greatly increases my embarrassment of being fired, but it also puts me in an interesting place to observe the process. I’m going to try to deal with the salt-in-the-wounds quality of writing about my own firing, partially as personal therapy, but mostly to increase the rate of healing for everyone else who’ll follow in my footsteps. And more of us, than we’d all like to admit, will undoubtedly go this route at some point.

Finally, I’m not going to mention the name of my former company anywhere in this blog. Because ultimately it’s not about them. It’s about my journey to regain my sanity and gainful employment. 

Speaker of the House of Representatives, John Boehner cries on “60 Minutes.” He cries during a swearing in ceremony. He cries in another interview. Will it be long before he cries over a lost parking spot?

In fact, enter the phrase “John Boehner cries” into Google and you’ll get 351,000 links.

Holy Tip O’Neill, what is going on here?

Then the Miami Heat, a.k.a. the Heatles, lose their fourth game in a row. Coach Erik Spoelstra observes in a post-game interview that a couple of players were crying in the locker room.

Sure, the coach said that to show that his players care. But crying? In the locker room?

Try as I may, I just can’t see former Boston Celtic Bill Russell cry. I can see him make other players cry as he blocked shot after shot, but not Bill himself.

Now I’m going to show my age. I remember in 1972 when Edmund Muskie choked up in a speech in New Hampshire, and it promptly ended his presidential campaign.

I can remember when Tom Hanks said, “There is no crying in baseball” in the movie “A League of Their Own.”

How did the very thing that used to end a career, or serve as a punch line, suddenly become the thing to do?

The crying game, clearly the game has changed. Crying appears to be the new high five. A way to bond with your audience, to show your emotional presence and to put a capital “E” for empathy on your forehead.

So business people, let’s tear up, the time has come for you to emote.

With employees, customers and vendors. Let them see that you care.

You don’t have to put it on your sleeve, it can run down directly onto your shirt. No worries.

Of course you can always go against the grain and keep your eyes dry. But why fight the sudden tsunami of tears?

Ironically, Boehner’s predecessor, Nancy Pelosi, did cry a time or two. Mostly she was savaged by opponents for not being genuine.

That’s the remarkable irony here, crying used to be owned by women, appears to now be a guy thing.

Ladies and gentlemen in the world of business, start your tear ducts. Crying is now officially in fashion.

About the Author: Bob Rosner is a best-selling author and award-winning journalist. For free job and work advice, check out the award-winning workplace911.com. Check the revised edition of his Wall Street Journal best seller, “The Boss’s Survival Guide.” If you have a question for Bob, contact him via bob@workplace911.com.

Have you ever worked in a job where you felt like the Energizer Bunny, Superman and James Brown rolled into one. You know what I mean, like you’re the hardest working person in your company always willing to leap tall inboxes in a single bound?

If you’re like many of the people who write to me, the only problem is that the people you work with seem to be a combination of Homer Simpson, Eddie Haskell and Rip Van Winkle. We’re not just talking about your co-workers here, often your boss seems to care less about work than you do.

Well I have a simple rule, you shouldn’t care more, or work harder or be more patriotic about work than the person who signs your paychecks.

Okay, I know what you’re thinking. If everyone felt this way then our productivity would just go down the drain.

Maybe. But at least you won’t be losing sleep over a job where the mucky-mucks are sleeping like babies.

Another way to look at this is that if the world were metal chain, then your standard of work should be equal to the weakest link.

Am I saying that we should all strive for mediocrity?

Yes, that’s exactly what I’m saying if the bosses themselves don’t care about how things are done. If you feel like you’re working in an episode of the Jersey Shore, then it’s probably time for you to either mentally check out or find a new job. One where the leaders are actually interested in creating an environment where people are rewarded for working hard and where the leadership models this behavior.

To quote Charles DeGaulle, “The graveyard is full of indispensable men.”

That’s the problem. So many people are sweating, losing sleep and worrying when the people above them don’t share this level of passion, commitment or engagement. We should have a Surgeon General’s report on how dangerous this is to your health. Because it is. Not only for you, but for all the people who love you away from the job.

If during the 60’s the phrase was “tune in, turn on, drop out,” then the phrase for anyone struggling in a job where you seem to care more than your boss, the mantra should be, “tune out, turn away, get out.” Even if you can’t get out physically at least you can check out mentally, and maybe even physically.

Caring at work is great, but only when it’s supported by the powers that be.

About the Author: Bob Rosner is a best-selling author and award-winning journalist. For free job and work advice, check out the award-winning workplace911.com. Check the revised edition of his Wall Street Journal best seller, “The Boss’s Survival Guide.” If you have a question for Bob, contact him via bob@workplace911.com.

This blog will undoubtedly make many of you ask one question, how good is my mental health benefit with my HMO?

I realized I was really happy today, because the Super Bowl will feature Green Bay and Pittsburgh. Or to be more factually correct, because it will not feature New York and Chicago.

But it didn’t stop there. I realized that in terms of all sports, I now mostly cheer for the smallest media market to triumph.

Not the underdog. Now that would be too American. I root for the smallest two cities, whether they’re favored or not.

San Francisco and Texas, yippee!

Boston & Los Angeles, well because I reside in Seattle, the NBA is dead to me. So I sat that particular series out.

Remember, I began this blog by questioning my own mental health.

But I wonder if there are at least a few other people out there who revel in the natural order of all things sporting gets messed with. In a world where the same people who argued that continuing unemployment insurance was going to add to the deficit, suddenly had no problems cutting taxes for billionaires.

In that world it’s odd how much fun it can be when the billionaires get stuck with a team in the big game that’s named after the Indian Packing Company, which provided the field where they practiced early in the last century.

I wasn’t always this cynical. There was a time when I didn’t live to see a billionaire stumble. But after watching Lehman Brothers, WAMU and AIG executives walk away with no accountability for their crimes, and able to keep all their ill gotten gains, well my cynicism level has dramatically increased.

Is it only me? Or do you find yourself enjoying another Chapter 11 filing by Donald Trump just a little too much. Or when a really rich person spends $120 million to run for office and gets beaten by a really old guy who used to date Linda Ronstadt.

Really I’m not trying to be too cynical here. But to paraphrase Lily Tomlin, it seems like these days no matter how cynical you are, it just never seems like enough.

And for all those disappointed fans in Chicago and New York, remember the great observation by Jerry Seinfield. They may seem like your team, but mostly you’re cheering for laundry. Especially with the lockout looming, most players really don’t feel as strongly as you do about the team you just painted your face for.

Will I be watching the Super Bowl? You bet, but mostly for the ads.  

About the Author: Bob Rosner is a best-selling author and award-winning journalist. For free job and work advice, check out the award-winning workplace911.com. Check the revised edition of his Wall Street Journal best seller, “The Boss’s Survival Guide.” If you have a question for Bob, contact him via bob@workplace911.com.

When I get older losing my hair,
Many losses from now,
Will you still be sending Joe PA a valentine,
Bowl bids and high school stars divine.

If Hef’s been out for dinner at quarter to three (pm),
Would you lock the mansion’s door?
Will you marry a guy who’s 60 years your senior,
When he’s 84?

We’re all older too
And most don’t marry or coach,
If we could only stay with both of you.

You can still be handy selling a recruit
To get them in a Nittany Lion’s suit.
Getting married, sure is against the tide,
As Hef tries not to get taken for a ride.

While we’re doing the garden digging the weeds,
Unemployment leaves us asking for more.
How can we feel old, when we look at you,
When you’re 84

Every bummer in our job search.
Jobs that don’t seem right, and drain us dear.
We shall scrimp and save.
Grandchildren at the alter & on the field.
Joe and Hef.

We can all learn from you, to bolster our line
And change our aging point of view
Learning that at 84 we can continue to play
No longer just wasting away.

Joe and Hugh have given us the answer
Ours forever more.
We are still in need, we don’t need to bleed,
When we’re all 84.

About The Author: Bob Rosner is a best-selling author and award-winning journalist. For free job and work advice, check out the award-winning workplace911.com. Check the revised edition of his Wall Street Journal best seller, “The Boss’s Survival Guide.” If you have a question for Bob, contact him via bob@workplace911.com.

Since technology today is mostly synonymous with business, your intrepid blogger decided to journey to the bleeding edge of technology, the annual Consumer Electronics  Show (a.k.a. CES), in Las Vegas. It’s a rough job, somebody has got to do it.

I’ve read a lot of articles on this year’s conference. Most talk up tablet computers and 3D everything. And yes, both were here in abundance. But to discuss CES and spend most of your time discussing two types of technology is like obsessing how many cup holders are in a car you’re thinking about buying. Factually correct, but mostly missing the point.

CES is wretched excess in a place that invented the term, Las Vegas. Vegas is one of the few places today that allows people to smoke anywhere and then charges you for a hit of oxygen.

It feels like the amount of floor spaced dedicated to the world’s leading technology trade show is somewhere between the size of the State of Iowa and New Jersey. But it felt more like the size of Texas to my poor feet.

Sure there are 3D TVs, amazingly small devices of all types, cars with more technology than the average office building and more languages being spoken than the United Nations. Along with high-technology cigarettes, “iGrill” an application that gets your iPhone and iPad involved in grilling your steaks and a variety of hi-tech bidets.

But that is barely scratching the surface. There are entire hotel ballrooms filled with switches, cable and plugs of all sorts. Think of it as everything related to all the technology that most of us devour at work on a regular basis.

Which all got me thinking about the famous line from the movie Spinal Tap. “There is a thin line between clever and stupid.” I’ve never been in a place where that line is more porous than CES. The brilliant is right next to the craziest thing you’ve ever seen. The only problem is that you don’t always know which side of the line YOU are on.

Let’s face it, we’ve all made fun of technology that we quickly find essential, stuff that we made fun of only weeks earlier (yes iPad, I’m talking to you). CES is interesting for it’s glimpse of new technology, but it’s even better as your own personal Rochard test, about who we are and where we’re all going.

But the best part of being in Las Vegas for CES is what else is going on in town. No, I’m not talking about Elvis impersonators, the ubiquitous leafletors on the Strip, seeing if Cirque du Soleil has hit double digits on the number of shows it has in Vegas or the buffets (my favorite is the $39.99 all day pass at eight different buffets, turning gluttony into a science here).

No, my favorite is how Vegas manages to pair people like Guy Kawasaki and Ron Jeremy, both spoke in Vegas this weekend. Kawasaki is the former evangelist with Apple Computer and he spoke at CES on his big ideas about the future of technology. Jeremy also has had the word big tossed his way a time or two, and he spoke at the annual Adult conference, also in Vegas this same weekend.

Nerds, porn stars and Vegas. Okay, it may sound to you like the end of civilization at you know it, but it makes for a very entertaining weekend. Back to CES…

About The Author: Bob Rosner is a best-selling author and award-winning journalist. For free job and work advice, check out the award-winning workplace911.com. Check the revised edition of his Wall Street Journal best seller, “The Boss’s Survival Guide.” If you have a question for Bob, contact him via bob@workplace911.com.