Live/Work Blog

Now the weather’s iffy and the soil claggy, of course I’ve started work on The Garden. We’re perched on the side of a steep hillside with tall trees behind and great views out front. The Garden - now a fully fledged Project (with Her Indoors’ approval) - is a small overshadowed strip, mostly sunless and not very inviting. Well, I don’t feel terribly invited but that may have something to do with the requirement to wield a sodding great club hammer and swing a pickaxe on a Sunday morning when I should really be communing with the Lie-in Angels. You know the ones: they have this knack of transforming all those “must-dos” into mere inconsequence, pure irrelevance. They come from the same top-storey department as the DA Angels (Displacement Activity to you).

So, it’s coming along - slowly of course, no point in rushing something you enjoy. Gardening is a bit like Tantric Sex - lots of heavy breathing and masses of delayed gratification. If you’ve got any ideas on how to liven up a damp, dark corner (of the garden) let me know. I’m still waiting for some responses on the notion of garden offices - is there anybody out there (in the shed in the garden)? Hello!!

And did you ask yourself that question? Yes, you know the one. Don’t pretend you missed it! “Why do we work?” I’ve been giving it some thought and I’ve come up with the following reasons:

1. To make money: to pay for our basic needs; to pay others to do things we could do ourselves; because we define Abundance as having lots of lolly.
2. To be fulfilled: to have a purpose, a role - however small; to bring meaning into our existence; to have work be a tool for self-development.
3. To experience community and relationships: many of us meet our life partners at work; to be part of the team; to combat loneliness and isolation; to belong; to learn about the differences between ourselves and others.
4. To get to exercise power: if not at home, maybe at work; to work out some of our childhood stuff on others; to experience our competitiveness and - sometimes - aggression; to learn how not to use the power we have.
5. To develop status and recognition: to make a name for ourselves; to attain respect; to reinforce our self-esteem and confidence.
6. To serve: there is so much that needs to be done, so we need to do it!
7. To experience creativity: making things; helping other achieve their goals; building a business; experiencing shared creativity; experiencing completion.
8. To hide from the awesomeness of our true purpose: having an impossible project to dream about; not having to risk being who we truly are; avoiding what we are really passionate about doing.

So, why do you work? Think about it. Then let me know.

I promised you something on little green men and my special relationship with them. You see, I see them everywhere and they see me coming too. Now then, we’re not talking Mekons here - they were the little guys that gave Dan Dare a hard time. (By the way anyone reading this who can actually remember Dan Dare: congratulations for making it so far! You’re a survivor! Mazel tof!) No, we’re talking about the little green men who inhabit the road crossing lights. I find nearly all the time that when I walk up to the lights to cross the road, just as soon as I get there, the little red man disappears and the little green man comes on. Sometimes I just carry on, striding from one side to the other, without slowing my pace. It may sound mad, but actually it’s about trust: trusting that your day is going to be great and full of fun and adventure. Every morning I expect a fantastic day and most days I get one. It just flows! So, one day soon, at a main road near you, take your trust on a test run! But please don’t step off the curb without looking! Check for the little green man first.

Finally, do you love your mobile and hate every one else’s? Go on, be honest! Don’t you just hate it when you get on the train after a hard day in town and you settle down to a peaceful double G&T (and crisps), and then the bloody chorus starts: “Darling, I’m on the train!” “Hello darling, I’m on the train.” “Sweetie, I’m on the train!”. Why do they do it? Are they announcing a miracle? Will “Darling” go down on her knees and give thanks to her current spiritual icon for the fact that that jerk is on the train? No! He’s always on that bloody train. And he interrupted “Neighbours”. Of course, you never do that, do you?

Is it just me, or do you find the mobile conversations people have in public really banal? And, naturally, while they’re going on about their boyfriend’s bum or their latest pair of shoes, or giving a long and wordy set of instructions to some hapless minion (voice slightly raised for this you note), what do they do? They strut about, chin up, elbow raised, looking for all the world like Charlie Chaplin in the “Great Dictator”.

Then there’s the fact that you can’t hide. You’re exposed to any Tom Dick or Harriet phoning you at any time, particularly the Tom who’s chasing you for that report you haven’t written yet. You could of course turn it off but then you might miss a nice call. God, life’s hard!

But of course, you’re right, mobiles are brilliant for some things (not, by the way, that you approve at all of putting masts near schools or Areas of Outstanding Natural Beauty. Or your house. Oh no.), like when you’re running late for a meeting, you forgot to turn the gas off under the breakfast bacon Darling, or when you are not actually “on the train Sweetie”.

By the way, have you ever had a mobile call while you’re on the loo? Can be dodgy. First of all you have to extract the bloody thing before it becomes a “Missed Call”. Then you have to make sure there are no sound effects - difficult if you’re one of many in a row of open-bottomed cubicles! And have you noticed that you always get calls that require you to consult your diary at the most awkward moment possible, like hanging on for grim death on one of those ghastly bendy buses or signing your life away on the silly little ledge at the bank? I imagine, in a few millennia, we’ll all have evolved third arms and hands for just that eventuality.

Bring back telegrams!

Well, that’s all folks. For now. I’m not promising anything for next time until I’ve had some responses from you lot. Remain silent and face the awful possibility of more of Max’s Musings. Respond, and we might get back on track. Now, what was that?

Just back from a 3,000 mile jaunt through California: Big Sur - lush Pacific lifestyle, rampaging grandchildren and condors like 5 foot turkeys; Arizona: The Grand Canyon - impossible to describe its awesomeness - go see before you die; Utah: Hopi Indian Reservations, Wild West scenery and excessive Wild West fry-ups on plates the size of Studebaker hub-caps; and Nevada: biggest lump of nothing I’ve ever seen - miles and miles of straight as a die roads through endless desert. And home-workers everywhere. My son runs an import:export business from a cabin 600 feet above the Pacific, surrounded by coyotes and mountain lions; the Hopis run a huge array of enterprises from their lonely homes on the Mesas - jewelry, Kachina dolls etc; friends in the Rockies near Reno run a highly successful publishing business from a stunning house perched on the edge of a 800 foot ravine, while the deer try to break into their veggie patch for the winter strawberries.

We (that’s Her Indoors and me) were blessed with great weather and spent most of our time under blue skies at altitudes up to 9,000 - breathing got a bit harder up there I can tell you. We stopped at Blackwells Corner, where James Dean dropped in for a coffee in 1955, a few minutes before he was killed on Highway 46; the building hasn’t changed a bit and I’m not sure about the coffee either. Wendy’s in Williams, Arizona (we got one street each way and that’s it folks!) serves awful hash browns and the root beer hasn’t improved any, the freight trains are over a mile long and painfully slow, and the welcome and hospitality is affirming of the basic goodness of mankind. Why, in Eureka, Nevada - “The Friendliest Town on the Loneliest Road in America!” - the nice, smiling ladies behind the counter in the General Store will skin and prepare your deer for you and even cut the antlers off to go on the front of your 4 wheel drive.

Nevertheless, worries about the sanity of the American people have been dispelled somewhat (helped by the results of the mid term elections) but I still remain perplexed that such a friendly and generous bunch of people can somehow have burdened themselves with such an extraordinarily dysfunctional political system. But, hey!, San Fran continues to deliver as my favourite US city: light, noisy, irreverent, whacky and very sophisticated in an understated way. And great food!

The FBBs (Fabulous Burmese Boys) were quite pleased to see us back - after an initial obligatory show of feline indifference - and they’re now helping me again with mmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmy typing.

Nuff said; I’m back in the black plastic command post, trying to see the screen from behind a lump of over-friendly cat, working my way through hundreds of mostly useless emails, hitting the delete key as though zapping a force of Klingons . (I wouldn’t mind all the Viagra emails so much if they just tried to spell them right!), and catching up on developments For example: good old Live Work Network comes up with some good stats: one in ten of us work from home and single people are less likely to be home-workers than married ones. Which leads me to ask all those single home workers out there: do you get lonely, missing the peer support, the buzz, the awful coffee? What you gonna do about it? Imagine if you lived in Nevada - 70 miles for a cup of mediocre coffee. Or a deer carcase.

Sod’s Law for Homeworkers # 4: Small and scrappy bits of paper with vital phone numbers (and tips for the 3.30 at Doncaster) move around in the night and burrow, the depth of descent into the strata directly proportionate to the importance you attach to finding them. This is especially true if you’ve been away for a week or so.

Now listen, what do you do if you want to work from home but haven’t got a room you can call your office or even a safe corner of the sitting room? It’s hard to impress clients with your professional attitude and calm telephone manner when little Johnny (why’s it always little Johnny I wonder?) has the volume up on the Playstation, taking on the mighty Grunt in a battle for the Universe. And I’ve never yet found a way to disguise the wails of a three year old deprived of full, 360 degree attention. The answer? Simple. You move into a shed. There are the Homebase ones that rarely fit, are certainly not insulated and whine in the wind; there are better quality ones (called Garden Rooms) to be found in the back of “Gloucestershire Life” - all blue wollies in green wellies and home made jam - and then there are those designed especially for homeworkers. Check it out. You could be daydreaming in the depths of your dahlias and communing with the fairies at the bottom of your garden. You don’t have fairies? Shame on you!

Anyway, this is going on a bit - hijacked by the Great Western Escape - so phone calls in the loo, and special relationships with little green men - will have to wait until next time. But I’ll leave you with this question: why do you work? Wait until you’re safely under the duvet tonight before you try to answer it!

Good to see the blog’s up and running. Inspired me to look at other peoples’ blogs. Wonderful IDAL material.

Had the head down since last we “spoke”. No, not snorkling at El Bilaiyim. Work. Remember that, in between de-heading the roses, admiring the Michaelmass Daises, and planning Christmas? Won’t be long now, so yes, I’ve been doing a bit of seasonal planning myself. Like, how do I escape this year from the flaming turkey and the bloody…? Well, you know. That old adage takes over of course: the best laid plans of mince and homeworkers…

We’ll end up as usual with the strange rellies, eating too much rich food, compensating for this by drinking too much, and having some unutterably boring conversations interspersed with long embarrassing silences and desperate play with the 4 year old’s new Lego. Trying to live out a fantasy that only exists in Santa’s grotty corner next to Ladies Underwear. For light entertainment, we’ll watch Four Weddings and Funeral for the 76th time. Oh, no, there’s no way round the system. The DFs have seen to that.

I’ve just read this! What an awful picture! Is it just me? Am I just supra-jaded? Why do I/we do it? And are live:workers more vulnerable to the Christmas System (CS) than those who work in those glittering office blocks? Do we actually miss the xmas party photocopying bum slagging off boss to his wife thing? Answers on a very early Christmas card please. You’ll find them in the shops next week, I expect.

While you’re thinking about that , here’s another SLH for you:

- SLH3: if you have more than one phone, they will always conspire to ring at the same time. Not content with that, SLH3 will arrange for one call to be from Aunty Violet (92, too old to remember working hours, and very hard of hearing) and wanting to know how the entire family is getting on - in detail. On the other, in some wretchedly crowded train on a line peppered with tunnels (Doh Brunel!), is your client, giving you a long list of revisions he wants incorporated for a deadline tomorrow. Everyone ends up shouting a lot and the FBBs give me a hurt look and retire to a pile of newly-iron shirts.

I promised you some thoughts on how we are destroying Time. If you’ve got a moment in your hectic schedule (responding to 147 emails, trying to get tickets for the Stones’ 16th “last” concert, or battling with having to decide on the makeover before or after your ex’s wedding), consider this: we spend huge amounts of energy, money and time on saving time we never have time to enjoy. Sad, or what? Remember the one about the man who bought a microwave fireplace? He could sleep all night in front of the fire - in 30 minutes. Yeah, right. I don’t make ‘em; I just tell ‘em.

Anyone remember the fax? When it first came out it was for emergencies. Very soon it became the norm and we stopped using couriers or going down to the post office. What happened to the time we saved by using fax machines? Did we spend it on leisure activities (as was predicted in the 60s - 2 day working week, they said, otherwise golf), did we talk more to each other, or go out a do good deeds? Did we heck. We just did more work, crammed more into our day, allowed shops to open on Sundays so we could work longer hours during the week. What for? What is this Work thing? Are we here just to work? Does being a live/worker present a unique opportunity to change the face of work, to work less and live more? Answers on a recycled time-sheet please.

The therapist said I should worry less about the black vinyl thing and instead think nice thoughts about my father. What does he know! He probably read too much Freud. No, not my father - he read too much Steiner! As to the narcissism thing, he suggested I try to remember being potty trained. Think I’ll dump the shrink and take up body building.

Done any networking lately? Can be hard for a live:worker. Don’t get out much, do they? Or so I’ve heard. I get out a lot and I’m always networking. Networking is the new word (well, fairly new - it’s getting a bit old hat now, so we’ll soon have to find something else) for talking to people. You can do it anywhere: at parties, conferences, at the bus stop, in the corner shop - even in the gents. Yes, there you are, standing in a row, doing what nature demands and trying not to make comparisons, and you strike up a conversation with the bloke next door. It can be about anything, the Premiership, football, Chelsea, or the Premiership.

There are three Golden Rules to successful networking, not lifted from some glossy (”International No. 1 best seller”) Californian tome on the 15 million habits of obscenely rich people, but on my own experience over the last 16 years or so. GR #1 is this: leave behind any expectations of getting any work out of the networking event; if you go to it in a predatory mood, people will avoid you. Predatory is deeply unattractive. You are there simply to enjoy yourself, meet interesting people and find out interesting (and potentially useful) stuff. So go mix!

GR2: you need to have your business cards with you because, if they like you - and how can theyyyyyyyyyyy (sorry, the FBBs just arrived) not like you? - they will want to follow up if there’s something they need that they know you can do. Little trick with business cards: when you receive theirs and hand over yours, always write on the back the date, occasion and one theme from your conversation - and tell them what you’re doing - and they will remember you.

GR3 of Networking is: like most people on the planet (van Gogh being an exception) you’ve got one mouth and two ears. Use them in that proportion! Be a good listener. Most people love talking about themselves, what they do, their opinion on Iraq, cars, their mother in law and the Premiership. So, help them already! It’s a public duty! I can remember occasions when I’ve been “in conversation” with someone for around 20 minutes and I will have said 10 words in the entire time. Afterwards I’ve overheard that person saying to somebody else: “That Max Comfort’s an interesting bloke.” Ten words! Point is, they enjoyed themselves.

Next time: work:live in a garden shed, phone calls in the loo, and special relationships - with little green men.

Enjoy your Christmas planning!

Hello again

Lot’s been happening since last time. I’ll fill you in. We’ve had Belgians. Seven of them. “Why Belgians, and why seven?” do I hear you gasp? Well, OK, they came to see the place we live, because they want to do the same. HI and I live in a community - it’s called cohousing and it’s a balance between the archetypal commune (never-ending nut roast and New Age Spam (aka tofu), and not a sodding chocolate to be had anywhere, unless you leg it for two miles to the offy) and the individual ghettos we are creating for ourselves (pizzaindiandonorkebabchowmeinchips at the door and the 917^th episode of Lost on the box).

Anyway, they wanted to look, so we let them. In return, they produced some stupendous (and stupefying) desserts and brought two large crates of Biological Belgian beer. Say that after three bottles. We managed to get through it. Must say, they were a bit rude about our stuff - something about it being too watery. Trouble with some people: they just can’t appreciate the finer points of warm and slightly tired pale ale in a dodgy glass, served by a surly barman in a packed pub with the football going full tilt - at least what you can see of it through the haze.

I’m realising that this has been all about food and drink so far. So now for something completely different. I was going through some old papers the other day - I think it’s now called de-cluttering - and I came across a report I’d helped to write on Work:Life Balance. Remember that? It was big a few years ago. It led me to ponder on how on earth we can have a healthy work:life balance if we’re all scrabbling for a better job, higher salary, smarter car, big house, holiday home in Andalucia, kids in private schools, au pair, cleaner, catered dinners, Maldives Christmas, gym, nips and tucks, and colonic irrigation on Wednesdays? We’re all too damn greedy! Aren’t we?! And no wonder we’re collectively supporting an army of aromatherapists, concierges, personal fitness trainers and astrologers. Not to mention the diet dictators.

So how does work:life relate to live:work? Are we any more likely to strike a sustainable work:life balance if we work from home or in a live:work unit, as opposed to an Office? What do you think? Let me know.

The FBBs (my cats the Fabulous Burmese Boys) have been at it again. Not so much the looooooooooooong words but chewing. Anything vaguely important is best, like some report an anally retentive client reluctantly lent you to look at, or the bound copy of the Company Accounts, now resplendent with random rows of incisions all round the edge, like lace produced by confused death watch beetles.

I promised you Naked Typing. First thing this morning, the sun woke me up and I thought: I’ll just nip downstairs and do that Intro I’ve been thinking about all yesterday. Nobody about, it’s that magic moment: creation in the buff. Off I went, sat in the Black Vinyl Command Post (£59.99 from Viking) and after a while noticed how the seat stuck to my bum. Quite a pleasant feeling actually! Made mental note to discuss with therapist. A few hours later (computers totally absorb time, don’t they, like semi-intelligent J-cloths) and there I was, also completely absorbed, but unbeknownst to me, the world had stirred. I realised I’d forgotten to draw the blind and wondered if the grumpy old lady opposite (the one whose curtains suffer from St Vitus’ Dance) had seen anything of interest. Made mental note to discuss narcissism with therapist.

I’d now like to engage you in an important survey project: the Max Comfort Intensive Displacement Activity Log (IDAL). Here are some of the key initial findings, please add to them when you‘ve got a spare moment.

• Hanging out the washing combined with inspecting the weed collection.
• Listening to the Radio 4 One O’clock News.
• Listening to whatever is on after the Radio 4 One O’clock News.
• Listening to Radio 4.
• Rearranging the filing “system” (but not actually doing any).
• Checking to see which clients still haven’t settled their bills.
• Ringing Adam/Bill/Charles/David/Edward/Fred/etc to arrange impromptu lunch.
• Going through the diary to see what you’ve got on next week.
• Writing a long detailed list of all the things you’ve going to do - next week.

So, what do you think? Will there be office blocks in 14 years time? And what on earth do they do in them anyway? There’s a large new, glass-clad one at Paddington Station and every time I go by in the train all the windows are filled with people looking at screens or, occasionally, at each other round tables. Is that work, I wonder? What the hell is this nation actually making these days? Can you make stuff in office blocks? When the US is a colony of China (it already is economically) and we’re a Third World State, where will we get our double decaff skinny frappuchino with wings?

HI and I have been going through the finances. It’s reassuring to know how much the bank is investing in us. After the second large liquid restorative, we got to talking about the relative merits of working from home as opposed to an office, and came up with some rather good financial reasons for staying put.

• only one mortgage/rent/heating bill/rates/insurance etc
• hardly use the car/lower commuting costs
• nearly every journey tax deductible
• lower outlay on Armani suits (and Prada shoes says HI with sigh)
• more control over your cashflow - work more when you choose
• cheaper latte.

And of course, there are many other benefits of live:work, like not having to do important errands at lunch time when every man and his ipod is queuing for the bank, post office, sandwich bar, tattoo parlour. And train journeys become a treat if you don’t have to make them day in, day out. Taking a nap. Sunbathing when there is sun. Sex in the afternoon.

Next time: how we are destroying Time, and the three Golden Rules of Networking.

Finally: did you ever hear of anyone on their death bed wishing in their dying breath that they’d spent more time at the office?

See you!

Hi, I’m Max Comfort, serial live/worker. Been at it since I was 12. Doing this blog and hope you’ll find it interesting, inspiring, irritating and generally something you feel moved to respond or contribute to.

First I need to introduce myself and my two assistants.

My background - many years ago - is in architecture and Architecture. Spot the difference? Small ‘a’ architecture is bloody big office blocks and shopping malls, built to make a huge profit for developers who don’t usually need to make any more money. Big ‘A’ Architecture is about buildings that serve, nurture, and inspire their occupants, buildings that are soundly built, of generous proportions and that incorporate the latest in ecological innovation. You pick.

More recently - for the past 16 years in fact - I’ve been a portfolio worker, as described by Charles Handy in his book ‘The Age of Unreason’. It means that I do lots of different things for different people - you might know it as multi-tasking. Mostly what I do now is help others make a good living out of something they are passionate about. Seems quite normal now to use words like ‘passion’ and ‘love’ in relation to work, but I can remember the day I first used ‘love’ in a speech on the future of work to a bunch of supra-shoulder-padded execs in a swanky Mayfair hotel. Scary. 1997 - a good year for love. Got married that year.

So I train, teach, coach, mentor, write, facilitate and - in my spare time - I work with local groups on regeneration projects.

Naturally, I do this from my base at home in the Cotswolds. You know - stone walls, sheep, cows, tourists, shops that close at 5.30pm, too many caravans - that sort of thing.

Here I should introduce my cats, the Fabulous Burmese Boys (FBBs), Manuka and Ginkgo, who come to help me with theeeeeeeeeee ttttttttttttttttttttyping. They are just a year old, very inquisitive and moult a lot. Ever hoovered your keyboard? They also have a canny understanding of which document you don’t want them to lie down on right at this minute.

I’ll be writing a bit more about this later, but I wanted to introduce the concept of Sod’s Law for Homeworkers (SLH) - yes, there is one. Please add to the list as we go along. Here’s a couple for starters:

* SLH1: If you ever summon up the energy to tidy your desk, the Dark Forces (DFs) will magic 10 telephone calls in quick succession. Desk disappears under growing piles of paper, files and other detritus. G&T required (don’t on any account look at your watch) in order to Put Things Away.

* SLH2: If you don’t get to the phone in time (listening to ‘I Haven’t a Clue’?), you’ll always end up having to ring back someone who loves long conversations and lives in New Zealand. Thank God for the Phone Co-op’s cut-price calls!

Now for one of a series of Max’s Useful Tips: try turning the PC/Mac off as you go to dinner. Much later, replete with food, fine wines (the local offy are doing a great line in Rioja for £3.99) and three hours of Eastholbycorrydale, you’ll find it easier to resist the ‘I’m just going to check my emails, darling’ when it’s time for bed. (Jo suggested that one). That’s Jo, as in partner, other/better half, whatever. In this blog I’ll be referring to her as “Her Indoors” (HI), although she seldom is, being another crazy multitasking live/working type like me.

Just had a little problem with the FBBs. While I was on the phone to a particularly uptight client they decided I needed to know it was time for their dinner. (You’ll have gathered that Burmese talk a lot - loudly.) Worrying now that he will be left wondering why the conversation seemed to be a lot shorter than usual and if there was something horribly wrong with my bowels. Recall Richard Branson’s autobiography and the way he developed his quick pitch technique (page 43 in the paperback).

Next time: Will there still be office blocks in 2020? Do we care? When a client phones in the middle of a noisy family dinner do you drop the Bloody Mobile (BM) in the gazpacho or dive out into the garden to avoid the withering glances from HI? Answers on an email please.

Plus a discourse on the economic benefits of live/working. (No, not just about not having to pay through the nose for a Costa coffee, but other things like lower car costs, fewer suits (yes, we’ll be covering naked typing) and not paying for two premises.

Finally, a question to leave you with - if live/working is the business equivalent of home-educating, how do we tackle the social isolation and replace the gossip round the coffee machine?

See you