The Short End of the Wishbone

My dear friend Marge collects stuff—not lots of ridiculous stuff (OK, maybe the pigs)—but silly things that come in handy for entertainment purposes on special occasions such as New Year’s Eve like her collection of chicken wishbones. Mind you, we all had had at least one glass of bubbly under our belts by the time Marge proffered her fowl souvenirs and suggested we make our wishes for the New Year before turning to our closest neighbor in the room and snapping the wishbones. Giggling and goofy though we felt at the moment, we did as Marge instructed. To make sure everyone could join in this frolic, I was assigned to play roving wishbone snapper. You would think that snapping with more people would give more opportunities to end up with the long end of the wishbone. Statistically, I did have more opportunities. Sadly, after three separate “snaps” with three different people, I always ended up with the short end of the wishbone. My sister-in-law, the shrink, suggested that I might want to change my wish for better odds.

Since I have a tendency to bring ideas and concepts I experience anywhere back to the workplace arena, I couldn’t resist considering the lesson of the wishbone. Specifically, I wonder if during performance reviews/evaluations employees and their reviewers/evaluators feel that they are holding onto a wishbone. Both parties have a wish for what they would like to see happen in the future. But at the end of the performance evaluation, is it possible that each of them feels that he or she has ended up with the short end of the wishbone? Should they have changed their wishes? Would it make any difference? Generally, both feel a sense of relief on that the evaluation’s over for another year. Did either or both realize the confrontation was a contest to see who had better “snapping” talent? Did either or both feel the winner?

Worrying about the size of a chicken’s dried-out breast bone after a deft snap between two opposing pinkie fingers (or thumb and forefinger) seem inane. Yet, does the concern that we are in for a period of misfortune or at least less than good fortune haunt us on some primitive level? Was I the only one wondering why the wish I had made seemed so elusive? Ultimately, a lone wishbone appeared and I was allowed one final chance to change my destiny. I did as advised, revising my original wish, and voila! I smilingly held aloft the long end of the wishbone for all to see! My friends cheered as loudly as if this underdog had won some important skirmish with fate. Now, if only I could remember the wish I had made.