No doubt:  Word is getting out.  Sabbaticals are not a secret anymore.  From bad times, sometimes, comes great innovations.  Maybe that’s what’s happening as some GM plants try to keep skilled workers, give them a break, and try new ways to survive this global meltdown.  

As the Times reports, 

The move is also expected to sweep across other manufacturing industries as companies try to hold on to staff but reduce the cost of paying them. Vauxhall’s Merseyside plant is offering the 4,500 employees a sabbatical of up to nine months on 30 per cent of their pay.

To be sure, this may be an offer many workers CAN refuse.  But for those with the creativity, resources, and faith, a reduced-pay BreakAway may be the upside to the downturn.  

Here’s the deal:  Sabbaticals happen.  If you are open to them.  They may not arrive at the perfect time, but is there a perfect time for anything?  Think about the events (good and bad) that often arrive in a surprise package:  Babies; accidents; winning lottery tickets; new love.  

Zen philosophy holds that many life lessons and improvements originate from “the bad thing.”  It’s in time of crisis and misery that conditions force us to look seek strength, open up, and dig our way out of dilemmas.  Or as TV Preacher Extraordinaire Robert Schuller puts it, 

Tough times don’t last.  Tough people do.  

Also exciting are the other many ways that corporations are trying to retain staff and innovate their way out of this mess, from shorter shifts and four-day work weeks to “flextiming.”  Forced flex time, if you will:  Take some weeks off now, and pay back those yours later when the economy is no longer hitting the brakes.  

Elmer Anderson, a Minnesota treasure who started a Fortune 500 company and also served as governor, would say that a company will thrive if it takes care of its customers first, its employees second, and profit third.  What a brilliant way to show that if you put people first (but not just yourselves), success will follow.  

Could that be what the car companies–and other hurting employers–are now doing?  Suddenly, people with skills are a hot commodity, not just a trade-able commodity.  

With any luck, some employees will embrace this opportunity.  While they may not have the resources to fly off to a dream destination, maybe there are other life-list goals they can actualize.  

• Spending time with friends and family.  
• Getting the house in order.  
• Picking up the guitar or recipe book.  
• Rest.  Relax.  Ready yourself for what’s next.  
• Accept what you cannot control; go pitbull on the rest.  

When times are good, it’s easy to take jobs for granted–if not complain about the hard work and long hours.  Things are different now.  Let’s hope the car companies can find ways to survive, some employees can embrace the gift of free time, and all can emerge in a better place when things get better.  Which they always do.

With just four days left until we depart, now is a good time to invoke one of the five five-word Sabbatical mantras,

Everything is right on schedule.

Brazen optimism? You betcha. Pollyanna poppycock? No doubt. But I know this much: I’ll be on a plane, God willing, four days from now–no matter what. Still, these are NOT the good times.

The kids’ Christmas and other holiday specialness are nearly nonexistent. Guilt swoons. My childhood Christmas simple memories are priceless. Here, not one ornament hangs.

What we are leaving—friends, school, community, CurlyGirl’s gymnastics passion, AllBoy’s emerging basketball wowness—stares in the face and asks, “What are you thinking!?!”

The house is perhaps the worst mess ever. (And that’s sayin’ somethin’!) Where does one begin to organize and pack?

Still, these dark, inevitable moments are part of the price of admission. As are the reactions of acquaintances which have ranged of late from raging jealousy (I like the honesty) to rock-star awe to snarky scorn. When e-sharing my fears and frustrations with a friend the other day, the response was,

Next time you’re having a bad day, don’t e-mail me!

On that note, I’ll shut up. This is the hard part. But like raking 55 bags of leaves before autumn’s first snowfall arrives, you gotta slog through it. The joy of this BreakAway is nearly nonexistent. The anxiety relentless. Yet the odds of going are at a new high.

Once we get settled on a faraway island, perhaps I will be too.

• ODDS OF GOING TODAY: 95%
• ODDS THAT I’M GOING NUTS: 55%
• ODDS THE EMOTIONS WILL FLOW LIKE A DIRTY FLOOD: 100%

So I’m sitting in my beauty parlour, awaiting my ‘poo and trim and manicure…oh never mind.  (I wish!  But who has time!?!)

Actually, while creating this website, we learned today this site shows up second when you Google BreakAway.  Yowza!  And we haven’t even finished or launched!

I may never be a blogstar, but I’m a Google star.  As Grandma always said,

“Hey, that’s better than a kick in the pants!”

The first item on the list indeed belonged to Elle–and it was all about breaking up, I guess.  (Hard to do.)  But low & behold, another Elle link takes you to a “Break Away” sabbatical story.  Have we created a love-in?  Or are we only flirting?  (There are many Elle stories about THAT too, of course.)

Anyway, once again, the secret to getting your employer to acquiesce to your BreakAway is to be a kick-butt employee.  As Garrison Keillor always states at the end of The Writer’s Almanac, “Do Good Work!”

Barbara Moses, author of Dish: Midlife Women Tell the Truth About Work, Relationships and the Rest of Life, offers these additional thoughts:

“It’s much easier to get a sabbatical if you’re good at your job than if you’re a mediocre performer;”

“Recommend someone for your position or advise on how your job can be restructured;”

“Show appreciation for your job and company;”

“Demonstrate what your company will get out of giving you a sabbatical;”

“Convince your employer that you can be a great role model of work/life balance and that you’ll come back rejuvenated.”

Thanks, Elle. I’d go talk to my boss–if only I had one.

Now, about those new flirting tips…

A loon was calling its unmistakable cry this morning.  What the!?!  Poor creature needs to get out of town; the windchill is -10 this morning.  Has the bird (have we all) gone loonie?  Yes, I say.  Move on.  Yet that cry is right-on, as today marks the heartbreaking swan song of my favorite radio show.  Period.  

I believe in radio. Love it with all my heart—more than TV, more than this silly, cold computer screen.

Just one more time, while I’m doing my morning rituals, I get to start my day with Minnesota Public Radio’s The Morning Show.  They sign off tomorrow, with a raucous and live (and thus uncharacteristic) performance.  Not sure I can get out of bed without this show’s homey charm, humor, and eclectic music mix.  

Jim Ed Poole and Dale Connelly (whose real name is Tom Keith) have been up long before sunrise for decades.  But Jim Ed wants to retire.  Hey, ain’t nothing wrong with that!  As Michelle Shocked (the kind of artist this program will play that you won’t hear anywhere else) sings:

“The secret to a long life is knowing when it’s time to go…” 

Yes, even people with (what would appear to be) one of the funnest jobs in the world need to retire now and then.  Jim Ed is ready for perma-Sabbatical.  Good on ya, mate.  

The show was started by a guy named Garrison Keillor who promoted Jim Ed from board operator to co-star, and then moved on to become a superstar himself.

Having met Dale, I can safely say that with these gentlemen, what you hear is what you get.  I’ve known Tom too. Used to play softball with him—often scheming the right to sit next to him at the Chalktalk (bar) after the game. I was a bit star-struck of course. But above all, he was and is just a complete sweetheart of a guy. He can make people laugh with the most subtle, natural move or comment.    

We all need more laughter!

Their retirement will leave a void for many of us. But nothing lasts forever. Not even radio (which, someday, will BURY television). Be well, boys. Thanks for the memories, the music, and making it such a pleasure to get up, stand up, and face a new day.

In the old days, people were allowed to use a lot of commas, and they wrote some pretty cool stuff, especially this dude, who also wrote that bit about history repeating itself, but we’ll not feature that here, as we are not a HISTORY site, but rather, a BREAKAWAY site.  

“A string of excited, fugitive, miscellaneous pleasures is not happiness; happiness resides in imaginative reflection and judgment, when the picture of one’s life, or of human life, as it truly has been or is, satisfies the will, and is gladly accepted.”

Thanks to George Santayana, no relation to Carlos, 1863-1952, Spanish-born philosopher, essayist, and poet.  

Is there any doubt that he practiced silence?  Took Sabbaticals?  Found what he was looking for?  Had a good time?  Wish he were here…

The news has been all over the airwaves and screens for ten days now. Say it ain’t true: Consumer spending in October slipped by 1%.

Yet when I painstakingly avoided Shoporama-Land last weekend, Black Friday looked as busy and crazy as ever. Parking lots were jammed. Movie theaters were packed. And when out celebrating my birthday on Saturday night, most bars and restaurants were bustling and hustling hash to ravenous partiers.

Hey, didn’t they get the bad news?

Recessions aren’t fun. Losing a job sure can stink. And watching your investment portfolio shrink hurts. But 1%? That’s a mere penny per dollar less that we’re spending as a nation. Let’s break it down a few ways.

• Having a $9.90 martini instead of a $10 one. (Absolut instead of Gray Goose?)
• Getting a $4.95 candy snack at the movie instead of the $5.00 one.
• Splurging on a $198 cashmere sweater and letting go of the $200, better beauty.
• Offering $29,700 for that new Toyota and steadfastly refusing to pay $30K sticker.
• Spending $396, rather than $400, for your holiday gifts this year.
• Sending 99 holiday cards with 99 stamps (instead of 100) and skipping your slacker college roommate who has never sent you one, anyway.

It’s amazing to me that this kind of news actually alarms people. Markets? Sure, all they do is behave in bipolar ways. But the rest of us? Hey, we’re still having 99% as much fun as we did last year, as a whole.

Even my Very Close Personal Friend, THE ARMCHAIR ECONOMIST, told me:

“YOU’LL KNOW THIS DOWNTURN IS SERIOUS WHEN PITCHERS OF BEER BECOME MORE COMMON THAN THE PINK MARTINIS. BUT WORRY NOT: THE PEOPLE WILL STILL DRINK!”

I’ll drink to that—and I miss pitchers. Makes me sort of nostalgic (and thirsty) just thinking about it. Thanks, Old Sport. And may we all survive living on 99%.

Sorta brings new meaning to the term “Black Friday,” doesn’t it?  

From our good friends at Wiki:  

“In many cities it is not uncommon to see shoppers lined up hours before stores with big sales open. Once inside, the stores shoppers often rush and grab, as many stores have only a few of big draw items. On occasion, injuries and even fatalities are reported; in 2008, a worker at a Wal-Mart in Valley Stream, New York was trampled to death by shoppers who broke through the store’s glass doors minutes before the store’s scheduled opening at 5:00 am[7][8]; a pregnant mother was hospitalized from injuries in the same human “stampede”, though early reports of a resultant miscarriage were determined to be in error[9] [10]. And in Palm Desert, California two people shot and killed each other after an argument, possibly over merchandise, in a Toys R Us store.[11]”

Rest in peace.  

Okay, let’s be frank. Does anybody want to read rants about a guy who’s trying to get 555 things done before running away for the winter? Probably not. That kind of ‘journal’ writing best be kept by the bedside, along with the Mylanta, the Trojans, and the Bible.

Those rants and lists, by the way, kept me awake most of the night while the crazybusy brain labored away in fruitless tedium.

Today’s sunrise, oh-so forced Yoga regimen (outside, where it’s covered with slippery frost) did NOT quiet the mind. I just froze the belly and teased the to-do list. A slip-and-fall seemed likely. Yoga has risks. Do they practice yoga on snow in India?

Hello-o-o-o-o!?!?!

• What about finding a new gear bag to haul the snorkel stuff and the new Martin mini-guitar and all? (And what good is a trip without those non-digital toys? How will AllBoy keep up his music learning without a musical instrument?)
• What about the complex list of chores that must occur to launch this website—and who’s the sick dominatrix who created that Responsibility-Hell program called BaseCamp?
• Why do people, as they find out about the Sabbatical, tend to ask a really good question that I’ve yet to worry about, like, “Who’s going to take care of your snow shoveling?”
• Why aren’t the kids helping? I mean, do they ever? No! But….HELP!
• How come the 2 Heads duties don’t stop? IRS red tape (that can feel like a thug who ties you to your desk chair)…payroll and expense and pointless paperwork up the wazoo?

This will be worth it, right?

I suddenly have a deep, huggable respect for the many folks who, upon learning of our brilliant scheme, simply laugh and offer,

“Oh, I could NEVER do THAT!?!”

Kudos to Common Sense. Bravo for loving what you got. Let us now praise unfamous men (and women).

Alrighty. I feel better now. NOT! So obviously, it’s time to seek silence. And try to make my bossy brain do the same.

“Silence is the language God speaks and everything else is a bad translation.” –Thomas Keating, Cisterian Monk

• ODDS OF GOING TODAY: 86%
• BIGGEST OBSTACLE: THINKING

Read it and reap. Or weep. But read it, and realize (if nothing else) that there are a few BreakAway Brethren out there. There are even gracious employers out there using the downturn as an excuse not to downsize, but offer Sabbaticals!   Sign me up!

We shall change the world! One blogpost, one BreakAway, one bobbing head at a time!

(Excerpted from his annual “Night-Before-Turkey” speech, as given to family and friends at the Rob Roy Club in Midtown, Manhattan)

FRIENDS, FAMILY, WORLD LEADERS,

IT IS WITH A TEAR—OF JOY, OF COURSE—THAT I MUST TODAY EXPRESS MY PARTICULARLY HEARTFELT THANKS TO ALL MY FRIENDS AND COLLIES, I MEAN COLLEAGUES, WHO HAVE MADE POSSIBLE THIS $15 BILLION QUARTERLY PROFIT FROM THE ESTEEMED EXXON CORPORATION.

• THANKS…TO THE EXXON EXECUTIVES, WHO HAVE SO BRILLIANTLY SHOWN NO SHAME IN EXPLOITING CAPITALISM TO NEW RECORDS. RATHER LIKE A GREAT ATHLETE, THEY JUST KEEP SHATTERING THEIR OWN WORLD RECORDS! (aside: HOW THE HELL DO YOU DO IT!?!) {applause, applause}
• THANKS…TO THE U.S. GOVERNMENT (aside: OR SHOULD I SAY, “LACK THEREOF”). {chuckles and guffaws} WITHOUT SUCH OIL-FRIENDLY KINFOLK IN POWER, WELL, PERHAPS OUR PROFITS WOULD HAVE BEEN A MERE $14 BILLION! {laughter, back slapping}
• THANKS…TO THE U.S. PEOPLE, WHO WILLINGLY PAID MORE THAN $4 A GALLON FOR MONTHS ON END SO WE COULD ACHIEVE THIS MILESTONE. NOW, HOW DO I SAY THIS?…YOU ROCK?
• THANKS…TO THE OTHER PEOPLE OF THE WORLD, WHERE-EVER YOU ARE, FOR FOLLOWING OUR LEAD IN GAS GUZZLING? AIN’T IT GREAT? {applause, clinking of glasses, more back-slapping}
• THANKS…TO THE CAR MANUFACTURERS. MAKERS OF BIG VEHICLES, PICK-UP TRUCKS, MOBILITY, AND FREEEEEEEE-DOM! AND MAY I SAY, FROM THE BOTTOM OF MY PIGGY BANK, I SURE HOPE YOU GET YOUR $25 BILLION BAILOUT. (aside: IF TIMES WEREN’T SO ROUGH, I’D SUGGEST WE AT EXXON GIVE THEM A FEW BUCKS!) {loud laughter, shouts of “no! no!”, temporary chaos}
• THANKS…TO THE DINOSAURS—WHO LONG AGO GAVE THEIR GUTS, JUST SO WE HERE AT EXXON COULD FUEL THIS LIFESTYLE REVOLUTION.
• THANKS…TO THE EXXON SHAREHOLDERS, WHO SO SMARTLY GAVE ME A SEAT ON THE BOARD. I MAY BE OLD AND FADING AND COULD CARE LESS. BUT I ALWAYS VOTE “AYE.” AND TONIGHT, I VOTE “ME, MYSELF, AND AYE!”
• AND FINALLY, MY DEEPEST THANKS GOES TO THE EXXON BOARD OF DIRECTORS. THANK YOU, GENTLE MEN, FOR BRINGING ME TO YOUR TABLE. OH SURE, I SKIP THE MEETINGS. BUT I ALWAYS VOTE YES. AND TONIGHT, I VOTE YES! YES! 15 BILLION TIMES YES! {uproarious applause, group hugs, champagne everywhere)

PLEASE, PLEASE…I’M ALMOST DONE (aside: WITH MY SPEECH, BUT NOT WITH MY PROFIT-TAKING!). IN CLOSING, MAY I JUST WISH YOU ALL THE HAPPIEST OF THANKSGIVING. YOU’VE SO MUCH TO BE THANKFUL FOR: MONEY, POWER, GREED—BUT I MEAN THE GOOD KIND. LET THE FREE MARKET—AND THE OIL—FLOW…LIKE FINE WINE! {glasses clink}

AS YOU BREAK BREAD TOMORROW, PLEASE REMEMBER THE LITTLE PEOPLE, AND THE LITTLE THINGS.

BY LITTLE PEOPLE, I MEAN ANYONE WHO HAS NOT THE GOOD FORTUNE TO BE IN THIS ROOM, OR EVEN BEAN EXXON SHAREHOLDER. MAY GOD HAVE MERCY ON THEM, EVEN AS THEY GO BROKE BUYING GAS.

AND BY LITTLE THINGS, I MEAN LOBSTER—INSTEAD OF TURKEY. AFTER ALL, NOW THAT THE EXXON VALDEZ MESS IS FINALLY BEHIND US—IN SO MANY WAYS—WE CAN FINALLY GET DECENT SEAFOOD FROM ALASKA AGAIN. {Hear hear! Hear hear!}

GOOD NIGHT! MAY GOD BLESS YOU—AND THE EXXON MOBIL CORPORATION!

(The Armchair Economist shakes the hands of three Exxon “friends,” who shall remain nameless, and then is quickly escorted out of the building by umpteen bodyguards who whisk him into an awaiting, heavily armored, Toyota Prius.)