CEO, Chicken Egg Operations

     As you may recall from our last thrilling episode, we were considering the rooster as CEO of a work force, producing a great deal of effort on the part of his work force by sheer inspiration.  (Okay, he contributed a bit more than inspiration.  If you’re not willing to play along, you can sit with your phone in the corner and deal yourself you ten thousandth game of solitaire.)

     As CEO, the rooster had at least one other major job which the postcard cartoonists took very much to heart.  He was also in charge of Public Engagement, or what we used to call marketing.  The rooster raised his voice to let us know what was going on at just about any time he felt good and ready.  (I’ve worked for bosses like that myself.  By the way, that whole business of his being Nature’s Alarm Clock is the bunk, according to experts who have warned me, unnecessarily, about relying on a rooster for my wake-up call.  A rooster may easily start crowing hours before the sun comes up, or just sleep through dawn and start hollering later in the day.  Some roosters are no use at all in this way.  I’ve worked for bosses like that, too.)

     But let us not forget that his chief duties lay (sorry) in the egg factory.  Like many human managers, he had to keep an eye on production if he didn’t want to become Sunday dinner.

     A contented work force was essential for delivery of product.

     Though some were tough managers who kept demanding more and faster production.

     His work force might have their own opinions on this, leading to fatigue and unhappiness in the ranks.

     Or straight rebellion.

     The wise manager showed he valued his workers, consulting (or pretending to consult: you’ve worked for roost…managers like that yourself, haven’t you?)  Considering their needs when locating a new coop, for example.

     I have not covered the role of chicks in this process so far, but they had their part to play in the company as well.  Egg production was primarily for the market to be turned into meringue, pumpkin bread, or over-hard with three slices of bacon—okay, I’ll take four.  But a few had to be allowed to hatch, to become the workers and managers of tomorrow.  I kind of have a feeling we have two potential CEOs here, trying to define their roles in the barnyard as they work through the ranks to become the High Cockalorum for the next generation.

     Silly would-be roosters.  They didn’t realize that until they grew up, they had only two jobs to worry about  (especially on postcards.)  One was to symbolize the effort of making a living generally.

     And the other, though much more important, was only one day a year.

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