The Last Day...

Yesterday morning I did my last potentially useful act at work: I sat with a group of my team members and answered questions they had, while being videotaped.  The questions were mainly things they imagined they'd want to ask, but wouldn't be able to because I'm not there any more.  The nature of the questions really drove something home to me: just how valuable experience is.  It almost doesn't matter what that experience is (I exaggerate, but not all that much).  The simple fact that I have been working for 45 years is valuable – I've seen a lot of things about how businesses work (or don't), dealt with lots of personalities, etc.  Working in IT for so long means I know a lot of things about how IT works.  Having been a low-level programmer for so long means I know about things like how networking works.  And on and on.  Most of the questions were about things related to my general experience, as opposed to any particular technical skill.  And how did I get this experience?  Mostly by being in situations where I had nobody experienced to guide me.  I suspect my leaving is, in the long run, very good for my team :)

In these litigious times, on your last day at work you're required to visit Human Resources for the “exit interview”.  In this choreographed event, you get information about your termination “rights” (such as the COBRA health insurance), your final paycheck, and you're given an opportunity to proffer some final advice to the company.  I didn't take advantage of the latter, as I'm sure nobody would actually pay attention to anything I said :)

For someone like me who is departing voluntarily and amicably, there's really very little to do in these exit interviews.  But nevertheless, we had something most unexpected happen right in the middle of mine.  I was huddled in a little conference room with Danielle (one of the company's local HR folks).  On the speakerphone was another HR person, Heather from San Jose, who was being trained.  We were going over a few questions I had when someone knocked on the conference room door.  A young lady with a funny look on her face (I interpreted it as disbelieving) said that someone wanted to see Tom (that would be me!).  This made no sense to either Danielle or myself, but I got up and went to see who it was.

Well, it was the entire Automation Team (the team I've been a developer and architect for these past five years).  Some of the team wasn't physically present, as they were on a business trip to England – but they were “there” anyway, thanks to Facetime on an iPhone!  It seems that the team was afraid I was going to walk straight out the door after my exit interview, and they'd miss the chance for something they wanted to do.

Or rather, something they wanted to present: a parting gift for me upon my retirement.  Not the traditional gold watch (thank goodness!), but rather an engraved baseball bat:

Now if you know me, but not through work, this probably is quite puzzling.  I know absolutely nothing about sports, don't watch them, don't know how to play them, and have no interest in them.  So why a baseball bat?  Well, for many years now (starting long before my job at ServiceNow even), my standard answer for any management challenge was “baseball bats”.  Need to motivate an employee to greater productivity?  A baseball bat, wielded vigorously, should do the trick.  Got a vendor whose prices are too high?  Just bring a baseball bat to your next meeting with him.  You get the idea.  It was a longstanding joke that all my colleagues knew about.

So they got me a beautifully finished baseball bat (in a velvet bag!), and somehow managed to get it laser-engraved as above.  I like that “Imperial Wizard” title, but they would never let me actually put it on my business cards (they had the boring title “Automation Architect” on them).

I'm feeling quite sentimental about this gift.  They've been a great bunch of folks to work with.

Then it was back to my exit interview, up to make my round of good-byes with the team.  Then I went down to hand in my laptop to the IT guys (James wouldn't let me keep it, dang it!).  Finally, I collected my box of personal possessions, enlisted Satya (our team's test guy) to help carry my server down, turned in my badge at the front desk, and then out to my truck to leave.

It was a sad drive home...