Nate Oman takes exception (via Russell Arben Fox) to Laura McKenna's assertion that "Corporate life is the enemy of the modern family," as symbolized, inter alia, by the Blackberry. Nate's argument is the shift in corporate structure away from hierarchy and toward decentralization and more lines of communication (using, of course, the Blackberry) has greatly increased the potential for flexibility in ways of working. The goal here is "a reward system based on results rather than face-time, the billable hour, or some other purely temporal metric of contribution to the corporation," so that (as I understand him) workers who can get the job done more efficiently can spend more time away from the office and with their families.

One does wonder, though, whether the result is going to be a move in that direction, or one toward what Nate calls the "super-turbo-charged-24/7/365-at-the-office model." The implicit assumption in Nate's argument is that the hours saved by better communication and more efficient work will be spent with one's family, rather than getting more work done, and I'm not quite sure why the former would be the case. I'm reminded of the NYT article from last year about how many business travelers use plane trips as much-needed downtime, and fear that extending cellphone and Blackberry coverage to flights will take that time away from them.

This seems to me an especially powerful concern given that the whole point of a Blackberry is that one is always reachable. One is always on call. I can't speak for Sidley Austin, but my friends who work on the support side at big law firms haven't exactly reaped the benefits of better/efficient means of communication: all it means for them is that they are now reachable and summon-able evenings and weekends.

In other words, what is it about a modern, efficient, flexible, Blackberry-equipped workplace that would keep one from having to receive and respond to email while watching their child play soccer? And if such a characteristic does not exist, how are parents and families reaping the benefits of better communication and more flexibility?

My Dearest Wolfgang Gottlieb,

Today you turn two hundred fifty. You shouldn't feel old but my what a quarter millenium it's been: there's been the rise and fall (then rise again) of the piano forte, obligate period (then anachronistic) then period practices of your music, and you can only begin to imagine what we've done with music in the interim. Alban Berg. Enough said.

But I don't mean to remind you of everything you are missing--rather, how much you are being missed. There was a dramatization of your life, about a decade and a half prior, named Amadeus. You might have heard of this. And your operas are still performed not only regularly, but also to consistently full houses. I suppose that's a good thing.

And today, your music is being pumped through the air on silent waves to be heard on loud recievers (don't ask how--the majority of us don't understand either) in every corner of the world by people who like this sort of thing. To say you've reached celebrity is an understatement, Wolfgang. They say, much like Vergil's poetry was supposed to foretell the future, that listening to your music makes us smarter. Hundreds of thousands of neonates will remember your music as the first that they've heard.

You shouldn't laugh--fame at the risk of being completely misunderstood is fame nonetheless, and people really believe this.

I've prattled on long enough, then. Happy birthday again, my dear: you're not old at all--just maturing like that barrel of the Caecubian I've been storing under a hundred locks.

And, of course (of course), many, many, happy returns.