Pa_inT By N_mb_rs

If the boss was to get a vacation, someone had to watch the store.  The list of responsibilities was endless.  Jack once wrote down one hundred and seventy-one separate duties involved in simply closing for the night.  So it eventually was reduced to something easy.  If Jane would please see to it that each evening she closed on time and the money from the till was secure in the safe and the front and back doors were locked, her responsibilities were pretty much fulfilled.  “Oh, and as for cleaning, just make sure that the brass cold water faucets in the men’s and ladies’ restrooms are cleaned.”  A trip to the toilets revealed the gleaming, polished metal. “These shiny faucets are emblematic of a job well done. Here’s the Brasso!”

Two weeks later, the holiday over, the cash had been dutifully and accurately accounted for and there were no citations for operating after hours. The faucets, however, were a disaster.  In both restrooms the metal was covered with chalky, chunky residue.  “Well, I used Brasso like you told me!”  That, of course, was evident, but it was also evident that she hadn’t fully followed the directions on the can.  She hadn’t wiped the residue off once it had dried.  Jane wasn’t lazy — she just hadn’t seen the difference.

We all see the world in approximately the same way.  We share our perceptions and agree that we are living in the same world.  The problem is that we can seldom match up the details.  It’s as though we are all looking at the same paint-by-number painting but each one of us sees it in various stages of completion.  We can usually tell from the blue lines that that’s a lighthouse on a dune overlooking the sea, (or is it a country mill with a waterwheel on a stream?) but we seldom agree on the quality and nature of the more specific details.  For some of us, the picture is finished.  For others, the artist has barely filled in the blanks.