"Let's See Here..."

I love modern corporate America for one thing: it's subliminal vocabulary. We all use it, we all do it, and none of us know it. I refer to the ubiquitous term "Okay, let's see here..." when interfacing with a copier, a computer or a recalcitrant report. It's a polite form of failure, the Seehere. It reeks mildly of fear, of complication.

We use "okay, let's see here" when the paper jams in the entrails of the copier, when we are confronted with a blue screen meltdown on our networks, on a recalcitrant row of Excel figures that somehow just won't add up. Soon will come the drumming of the fingertips upon the beige plastic case. A short sigh. Paper will be shifted, re-collated and refed and again we will ask ourselves to "see now, let's just see here."

What's best is when a crowd forms. And everyone is muttering their "see heres" as they mill in your cubicle or around the Xerox 3000 in the mailroom. One person will step up, fail to retrieve the mangled document wrapped hotly around Lever Arm 3, and mutter "okay, okay let's just see here..." and then give up and walk to the back of the crowd. Another steps forward, crouches down, pokes at a wheel or pulley, sighs, and it repeats. Occasionnally one far-seeing soul will firmly announce , "Let's just. SEE here...!" and be rebuffed instantly.

This is equivalent to the "lean in" method of car repair. You know the type - the kind of person who is clueless under the hood, but will stand there with their body leaning into the engine bed as if adopting a relaxed yet intent look will cause the car to miraculously roar to life right there on the shoulder of the freeway. Or the people who put their hands on their hips or fold their arms when talking to the mechanic. They always want to look comprehending and sincere, but just come off as dumb as sticks. It's the automotive version of staring at an open refridgerator without a thought in your head about food. As if the fridge itself was responsible for feeding you. "Hey, Bob, if you follow me to the back of the second shelf, there's a dandy slice of Pepe's Pizza from last month you might enjoy discovering for the first time again."

Let's face it - we're all terrified of technology. Okay, most of us are. That's why the IT guys at work are always seen as slightly monastic, as if we can't disturb them too often or their direct connection with God will be torn asunder, causing locusts and plague to descend down upon the office. We so often compliment them out of all reason - "Gee, Jim, without you here I wouldn't even KNOW where my computer even WAS! Thanks for doing whatever is you did there to make my machine turn on." I think they can smell our fear and they secretly pity us. When the Technological Rapture comes, and all the IT people finally ascend to the Starry Motherboard of the Absolute, they will look down upon us with a nostalgic yearning, the way you once felt about your favorite dog who passed away all those long, long years ago.