A modern day fairy tale

There once was a man who found a magic lamp. He knew it was magic because of the letters “PMO” engraved on the side. Under the engravings were some instructions explaining its use, but the letters were so small he could hardly read them, and in any case, he was impatient to get started, so he rubbed it instead (as per standard operational Arabian Nights procedure), and presto!, out came a Project Manager, or PM. The PM (pronounced “Pmm”) told the man he could have one wish. The man, already quite deeply in fairy tale mode, thought he had a right to three wishes, and was disappointed, but the Pmm explained that times were tight and that this was real life, not a fairy tale.

The man thought for a bit, then started to answer, but the PM stopped him quickly, reminding him that he would only get one wish, and that it might be better to make it count. But the man insisted he was sure, and he made his wish.

“There is a little spot on the Spanish coast with a lovely view of the ocean.” He said. “That is where I want to spend the rest of my life.”
The Pmm sighed and said “It is a very nice wish, but I can see you are new to the wishing game. Luckily, I am in no hurry”. (The Pmm liked to feel some pride in his work, and he knew that merely obeying his owners usually ended in tears). “I could grant you your wish in many different ways. If I take the easy way out, I will simply make you a cave with an endless supply of food.” The man’s heart sank in despair, thinking that he had wasted his wish. But the Pmm signalled him not to worry.

“The trick,” said the Pmm, “is to take your time to think all your options through properly, then be as specific as you can. I can help. Start by closing your eyes try to imagine in your mind’s eye what your life on the coast might look like.”

The man closed his eyes and saw a nice big house, with lots of people, having a party. When he opening his eyes, he smiled at the Pmm and asked him if that was better.

“Better? How should I know? I’m a Pmm, not a mind reader!” the Pmm answered, frowning a bit. The man was confused. “But I assumed …”

“What is it with you owners and assumptions?” the Pmm muttered under his breath. But out loud he said “Never mind. How are you doing on your wish?”

“I am getting closer,” the man said, “but I need to check some things first.”

“Good for you,” the Pmm said, happy to see how quickly this new owner was catching on.

“I sort of know what I want,” the man explained “but I suddenly realised I am not alone. I also have a wife and family, and they might not like my wish.”

“Ahaa! Stakeholders! Maybe you should ask their opinion?”

The man agreed, and went to talk to his wife and daughter.

The wife liked the idea, but insisted they also have some rooms for her mother and aunt to come visit for several months a year. The man was not thrilled at this prospect, but he did not want to hold up things too much, so he agreed. Their teenage daughter (a spoiled brat who could have used some discipline) then tried to highjack the wish, and turn it into her wish, but for once, the parents held firm. Together, they made a rough sketch of the house of their dreams.

The man then went back to the Pmm and said he was getting closer. All he needed do is get some help from an architect. The Pmm told him not to worry, he could help out. But, said the Pmm, the man was still not finished.

“Have you thought through all the implications and consequences of your choice?”

“????”

“Isn’t this new house a bit too far away from your office? Or were you planning on giving up your job and living on air?”

The man hadn’t thought of that, but by now he was starting to get worried about all the time it was taking. The Pmm answered that the man was right to worry, but that time spent in the initial stages usually paid themselves back later on, and that he (the Pmm) would keep an eye on the time.

“Or maybe,” the man said, exuding smug satisfaction at his own intelligence, “you are like a fixed-wage supermarket cashier who works Saturdays: there is no need for you to hurry, because the list of potential masters is endless?”

A small black cloud started forming above the head of the Pmm. “You might be my owner, but there is no need to be insulting. Or perhaps you really want to spend the rest of your life in a cave?”.

The man apologised and meekly asked what the next step was.

The man did not realise this, but this was all part of the process of establishing roles and responsibities, and building rapport, and he had just taken a big step towards getting not only what he asked for, but what he needed (which, as we have seen, are not always the same thing).

And so after many false starts, the usual problems with contractors, the weather, and life in general, it came to be that the man got his wish, and went off to live on the Spanish coast. Of course, it took so long that the man no longer needed to direct his business from an office overlooking the ocean, as originally planned, because he was now retired, but this also meant that several other problems had magically vanished. His teenage daughter was no longer teen-aged, and his mother-in-law was too old to come much. Assorted other members of the family and friends did come by to stay on a regular basis, but with the Pmm’s help, the man had made sure that he also had his own private space, and was not bothered in the least, and he and his wife lived happily ever after. After official sign-off, the Pmm disappeared in a puff of smoke, filled in his post-implementation report, and went off and to try to make some other owner happy.