Meander

If you want to make an omelette, you’re going to have to break some eggs*.  We all believe this, but it doesn’t really tell us anything.  For instance, we are pretty sure there is more to it than that.  You can’t just throw some eggs on the floor and yell “Omelette!”

And “some” eggs?  How many is “some”?  People like to answer this question with another question.  Some smartass comment like “Well duh, how big an omelette do you want?”  All mocking and everything.  To that I say, “Don’t throw it back on me.  You always do that.  No wonder you can’t get along with your coworkers at the bank.”

It turns out, when people say that you have to break some eggs to make an omelette, they are usually not even talking about cooking an omelette.  And that’s too bad, because omelettes are delicious.  Also, even though it might seem like they’re changing the subject to breakfast food, many times, they are trying to convince you to make the hard choice after you’ve stated your reservations about some looming decision.  Either that, or they are cleverly defending some reprehensible act of their own.

Here’s an example:

Say you are running a quaint little bed and breakfast up in the northeast or whatever.  Your Bed and Breakfast is not known for any special amenities, but is able to succeed against the stiff competition on the strength of your world famous omelettes.  For years you’ve understood the literal meaning of the saying.  In fact, you cannot think of a time you made an omelette without breaking “some” eggs.

One fine Saturday afternoon, you’re trying to work out the menu for the next morning.  You know you’re going to make omelettes because it’s your specialty.  You have several guests who’ve traveled many miles just to get a taste.  Everything will be perfect.  Then one of your stupid little kids reminds you that tomorrow is Easter and you promised to let them color eggs.  You don’t have enough eggs for both.  You could run to the store and buy some eggs, but you’ve always used the eggs from your henhouse out back.  If word got out that your bed and breakfast used corporate eggs, you’d be finished.  For a moment you think you’re saved when you realize that you could use the store eggs for coloring, until you remember that the bible expressly forbids using store bought eggs as decorations for Easter.   Even though your children will be devastated, you choose to save the business.  You explain to your children that God cancelled Easter this year, and besides, you must make omelettes for your guests.  Then you tell them about how you have to break eggs to make omelettes.  Through ear popping wailing and a river of tears, they plead with you to stop speaking in riddles.  You agree and send them to bed, using the words “Go to bed.  No Riddle there, eh?”

Another Example (this one, defending reprehensible act):

“Jeez Bob.  You egged that guy’s new car?  What the hell man?  That’s really messed up.”

“Hey Joe.  It’s like they say – ‘If you want to make an omelette …’”

“I don’t think they mean …”

“Yes they do.  Where’d you park again?”

“No.  It’s cool.  I get it”

But breaking eggs is one small part of the omelette making equation.  I wonder if one of the other steps would change the meaning much.  Eggs are the primary ingredient in the finished product.  But do the supporting omelette making actions play any less a role?  Perhaps any of the other things you could say about omelette making would work just as well with the saying.

“If you want to make an omelette, you have to heat up the pan.”

I could see where this might get a similar meaning across.  But is it as universally true?  I don’t think so.

“If you want to make an omelette, you have to use a spatula.”

Yeah, that’s probably true, but somehow, it doesn’t sound as ominous as “BREAKING EGGS.”  The apparent quandary is that you’ve got yourself a dozen unbroken metaphorical eggs and you’d like to keep it that way if at all possible. The problem is you need a metaphorical omelette.  Yes, you have to use a spatula, but when you’re done cleaning, much like the pan, you still have a spatula.  You still have a dozen eggs, but some are broken now and all the kings horses …

Wait.  Was Humpty Dumpty a metaphor or allegory?

“If you want to make an omelette, you may end up with scrambled eggs.”

Ok, I just threw that in there because it happens sometimes.  Which means it happens metaphorically too.  It is possible that you set out with every intention of making an omelette.  You go ahead and do what must be done (break eggs) but the end result isn’t what you wanted at all.  Now you’ve potentially damaged some important relationships for scrambled eggs.  Nice going, Hitler.

I’m going to work one of these altered omelette making tutorials into my next staff meeting to see what happens.  I think it will go like this:

“Yeah Cube, I’m not so sure we should release the ‘string filter fix’.  Some of the clients may have workarounds in place that could potentially skew the results,” someone will say.

“Huh, what?”  I’ll start, snapping gracefully out of my morning meeting nap, wiping the drool from my chin, “Oh yeah, well you know, the pan has to be heated up …”

Actually, I do this sort of thing a lot in meetings.  I try to start new nonsensical buzz phrases.  Meetings love buzz phrases.  I no longer ask people what they mean by certain phrases.   It was during the great morning status update meeting of 2010, when my innocent question about the meaning of “Long pole in the tent,” caused a huge debate. That’s when I realized these guys don’t know what they’re saying  either.  So I don’t ask anymore.

All companies insist that communication skills are vital for success, then their managers go around saying things like, “Yeah.  The long pole in the tent is gonna be getting the database tables created.”

“Oh yeah, ok.  So I’m going to go join the circus now and come back when I understand what the hell you’re talking about.  Thanks.”

When I asked what the “long pole” thing means, I was not surprised to learn there was no consensus. Group 1 believed it meant that no work could continue until the long pole task was finished.   The other group thought it meant the project could be released incomplete, but not without the “Long pole.”

For potential insight, I tried thinking back to my literal experience with tents.  I went on RAGBRAI a couple of times and had to set up a tent each night.  There were usually 2 long poles that were actually just several small sections of skinny pole held together by an internal elastic cord.  The sections slide into each other end-to-end to make a long bendy pole.  The pole slides into sleeves of the tent to frame the whole thing up all nice and everything, similar to how a set of database tables might hold information for use in some sort of intricate software project.  Not really.  Not at all, in fact. 

It wasn’t until someone said, “No stupid, circus tents,” that I was on the road to a more certain ambiguity.

I don’t know circus tents.  Can other work be done while the long pole is being put into place?  I can picture a pole majestically rising as a massive red and white striped canvas reaches ever skyward.  The air smells of caramel popcorn. Dozens of burly men in dirty white tank tops strain, sweat stinging their eyes as they pull ropes outward from the center securing the long pole.  Once in place, several “carnies” rush around staking the ropes and supporting the outer structure with 36 “short poles.”  A fat man in a tattered wool suit, red vest and a top hat, hook cane hanging from his crooked left arm shouts through a megaphone that the show must go on.   This is all great, but when I apply this to the required database table specs for our current project, I’m not sure what we need to do.  Where do we put the caramel popcorn, anyway?

When I was a kid and we went to the circus, it was usually at the Omaha Civic Auditorium, so there was no tent at all.  I brought this up at the meeting and said maybe there was an existing framework we could use instead of developing the tent ourselves.  “No, there isn’t,” said the project manager a little too quickly.  Because you know what the project manager’s job would be if we went the sensible route?  Looking for a job, that’s what.

Oh yeah, omelettes.

Optional parts of omelette making don’t work for the proverb at all.  They come across as wishy-washy in the context of your no compromise, egg-breaking, omelette making resolve.  As you forge ahead, you don’t want to say something like, “If you’re going to make an omelette, you’ve got to whip the eggs thoroughly and sometimes it helps to add a little water or milk.”

The ass of a rat has very little value.  However, if people saved them up and stored them in some sort of Tupperware™ container, you shouldn’t expect them to open it up for letting them know about the variables of omelette making.  What I’m trying to say is nobody gives a rat’s ass about the variables of omelette making.  The one thing you absolutely need is broken eggs.  Everything else is optional.

* No egg breaking is required in the making of “vegan omelettes”.  This is because vegan omelettes are not omelettes.  They are an ungodly mixture of flour, tofu and spices, tricked into trying to impersonate real omelettes.  Seriously.  If you want to be vegan, just eat vegan food.  Don’t go around missing real food so much you have to try to make your tofu taste like animals.  It never works and you are stupid for thinking it does.  If I’ve offended any vegans, I am sorry, but if you want to make an omelette, you have to break some eggs.  No exceptions.