One of our family's favorite stories is about my sister, Diane. We were ordering food at a restaurant. She was 8 or 9 and already the established comedienne of the family. Her entree arrived with a side of beets, her most loathed among vegetables (not that any were on her a-list.)
The waiter must have seen her face, and before anyone said anything asked if she wanted something else. She nodded, the waiter whisked the plate away, and returned with a new side of lima beans-- the likely #2 on her L-list.
She looked at her plate, looked up at all of us and said with her trademark exaggeration, "Lima beans?" ... more like "LIIIIIIMA BEEEEEEEANS!!!!!"
We howled... except for Dad, who was catching himself on the edge of seriousness. "Do I have to eat them," she asked? "Yes," Dad sternly replied.
"Oh boy or boy," she said, "stuffing her cheeks with the beans." May I go to the Ladies Room now? She ran off for the rest-room as we settled into our meals.
When she returned, she plopped down and with empty cheeks, said "love those lima beans!" We laughed as much as we do each time the story is retold.
Family stories are part of what binds us together. Organizations are the same: corporate culture just may be the sum of the stories the members tell; culture is the folklore. |