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The morning commute (Image: Daniel G, from the Toronto Life Flickr pool)
Dear Urban Diplomat, Read the rest of this entry »
My cubicle-mate has started cycling to work from Etobicoke—a ride that leaves him smelling less than daisy fresh. To make matters worse, he hangs up his sweaty cycling top in our cubicle so it can dry in time for his trip home. I don’t wan t to embarrass him, but I need to clear the air, so to speak. How should I go about this?
—Holding my nose,
KING AND UNIVERSITY
It’s been three years since the mass cull of the Great Recession began.
Three years since all those jobs were zapped into oblivion, and the people who remained employed were left to shoulder double, triple or quadruple loads.
For my generation, the timing couldn’t have been worse. My close friends and university classmates are exiting their 30s and have mortgages and kids and barely enough minutes to shovel the driveway. They’re entering the phase that used to be called “mid-life,” which in the best of times is a moment for evaluation and maybe even reassessment. But after the worst economic upheaval we’ve ever known, they’re reeling. A financial analyst in her early 40s tells me how 12-hour days—which used to be the exception—are now the norm: she puts in full and breakless stretches at the office, then keeps the laptop burning for hours every night after her two young kids have gone to bed. Another executive was burned out after her company took on dozens of new projects and she was left to run everything. She now works up to 100 hours a week and gets phone calls from friends she hasn’t seen in months, asking if she’s moved or died. Read the rest of this entry »
Your boss is reading your e-mail, spying on the sites you visit and recording your keystrokes. The biggest time wasters used to be punished, but the newest management philosophy says they should be rewarded. Why cyberslacking makes you the company’s most valuable employee
If wasting time at work is an art form, then we are all artists. We each compulsively engineer our own system of self-reward, refined through repetition: 15 minutes of data entry buys you five minutes of Angry Birds. Upon release from an intolerably long meeting, surely you’re owed 10 minutes on Facebook. Now respond to at least four work e-mails before checking to see if anyone has noticed the hilarious comment you left on your cousin’s vacation photos. Then quickly visit your favourite Finnish design blog. We all share a common goal: the avoidance of detection. We memorize keyboard shortcuts to toggle between apps, and we keep our IM windows slyly minimized. We fancy ourselves, each one of us, a swift ninja of procrastination.
I regret to inform you that your employer knows exactly how much time you waste. They track your security card swipes, own your e-mails, record your browser history and log your keystrokes. If they give you a phone or a car with GPS, they can follow your whereabouts. They may employ human spies, spybot software or both to run productivity assessments. Your secret is out. Read the rest of this entry »
Work sucks. It’s not just you. We’re all working more, making less and going berserk. The special March issue of Toronto Life examines the post-recession workplace, from bosses who spy on you to the office of the future. Learn more by picking up a copy on the newsstand, buying our digital edition or watching our trailer. Check it out here »
Dear Urban Diplomat, Read the rest of this entry »
I was crammed onto the subway with my co-worker the other morning, and I accidentally bumped his latte with my elbow, spilling it all over his cashmere coat. I apologized, bought him a replacement beverage, and thought that would be the end of it. Three days later, however, I was stunned to find a $50 dry cleaning bill on my desk. I don’t think I should have to foot the bill when he’s the one who brought a brimming latte onto the subway during the morning rush hour. Should I pay or should I refuse?
—All Elbows,
MIMICO
1. Live music
There is nothing like seeing a great band live. My first concert was Poison, when I was in Grade 6. My all-time favourite is Springsteen: I saw him twice at the ACC. If you haven’t been to a Springsteen concert, you haven’t lived.
2. My native cuisine
Obviously, I love Greek food, especially feta and olives. One of my favourite memories is my dad roasting lamb on a spit every Easter. In Toronto, I go to Kalyvia on the Danforth (420 Danforth Ave., 416-463-3333).
3. Raptors games
I love going to basketball games because I get to be a fan and relax, drink a beer, yell. When I’m watching baseball, I’m analyzing and thinking about how this applies to my job.
4. Hair gel Read the rest of this entry »
I’m not a big product guy, but I’ve been using KMS California HairPlay for a while—it gives me the kind of spiked look that I like.
At the prestigious law firm McCarthy Tétrault, a junior partner named Diane LaCalamita watched as less-experienced male attorneys were promoted above her. She complained, got fired, and is now suing the firm for $12 million. Her supporters say the old boys’ club is still preventing women from getting ahead. Her critics dismiss her as a mediocre lawyer who couldn’t hack it in the big leagues. The story behind the case that’s dividing Bay Street
(Image: John Hryniuk)
Every weekday evening, when the bell rings and the markets close, dozens of suits from the financial district pour down into Ki, a Japanese restaurant smart enough to be located at King and Bay. Outstretched arms, clad in sombre Canali, eagerly pass corporate credit cards to the bartenders, who then hand back a steady stream of vodka sodas, Jäger shots and goblets of merlot. Bankers, brokers and lawyers come here to mingle and gossip with colleagues and clients. On many nights last year, the most talked-about subject at Ki was Diane LaCalamita’s $12-million gender discrimination suit against McCarthy Tétrault, the fourth largest law firm in the country and one of the storied Bay Street outfits known colloquially as the Seven Sisters. LaCalamita’s story is set out in a statement of claim that stretches 66 pages. The day it became available, it was photocopied and eagerly passed around the financial district like the latest potboiler.
It’s not just the law firms that are fixated, but other institutions, as well—the banks and brokerage houses, the accounting and engineering firms. All have a stake in how the case gets resolved. It’s being watched—nervously or excitedly, depending on your rank and status—on both sides of the border. Never before has a partnership of McCarthys’ size and stature come so close to having its doors blown open and its pay scales and promotion methodology exposed for all the world to see. Read the rest of this entry »
The proper sandal etiquette depends entirely, of course, on where you work. If you’re a lawyer subject to one of Bay Street’s essay-length dress codes, sandals constitute a serious breach, even if they’re made of stingray skin and cost more than a family sedan. On the other hand, if your place of work is über-relaxed or über–fashion forward (last year’s gladiators were a must for budding fashion editors), covering your toes would be tantamount to a dress code infraction. For everyone in between, workplace policy can clarify matters quickly, as was the case last year when the City of Vaughan banned flip-flops among its office staff, much to the chagrin of its sandal-sporting mayor, Linda Jackson (better known lately for scandals than sandals). Provincial employees have more foot-flashing leeway: in 2007, Dalton McGuinty OK’d a casual code as part of a green initiative to decrease air conditioner usage during the summer. When deciding whether to toe or not to toe, it helps to follow a few tips: spare yourself and your colleagues the sock-sandal spectacle, leave the Crocs in the garden, and if you must don flip-flops, walk with care to minimize the beachy slappity-slap. And it goes without saying that regular upkeep is a must. If you’re not willing to pedicure, keep those dogs in a cage.
• Jason Klippenstein, the Annex
Wondering about the waterfront? Curious about construction? Perplexed by politics? Ask the Urban Decoder a question here.
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