Leave no trace

The Last Parker is a highly underrated film from an era that produced countless highly underrated films – the early 1980s. It tells the story of John Parker, played by Burt Lancaster, as a legendary getaway driver, now retired and living with his family on an island off the coast of Maine (if you must know, it's called Little Cranberry Island). He passes the time as a philatelist, attending conferences with other like-minded folks. He would go on to despise email for one simple reason, “no stamps.” This is a man who lives by a code. In all the bank robberies he participated in he never once put his hazard lights on, refusing to double park. “It’s cheating.” One afternoon, while building a ship in a bottle of the RMS Lusitania, he gets a call from his old partner, Al Cash, played with ease by Dom DeLuise. They want him back for one more job. Only this bank is unique. There’s no hydrant or loading zone blocking the entrance so a perfect parking space is possible. Which is enough for him to say, “I’m in.” I won’t spoil the rest of the film, which involves an elaborate car chase scene that includes constantly changing cars and finding parking, something usually left out of heist pictures. There’s a love story, too, but it’s between a man and a gold ducat. And Yaphet Kotto plays the cop, Joe Justice, who's been after Parker all these years. 

Finding your place in the world, and more specifically a job, is actually a lot like parking. There’s not always room for everyone on the best blocks. You might have to settle for a side street or back alley, perhaps even calling it quits on the median surrounded by rush hour traffic. This leads to a symphonic display of honking horns all directed at you. It’s called a parking “job” for a reason. 

Searching for a space, unlike what many say about life, is not really about the journey. There are those who derive some degree of twisted pleasure in stubbornly circling the block until a primo spot suddenly materializes. That’s different, that’s not what we’re talking about when the open space is the goal. Many of us fear parking, terrified at the process. But you can’t go through life as if there’s a valet waiting for you around every corner. Personally, I don’t trust the system of valets, parking lots or anything that requires someone other than me drive my car. Would you let another individual stand-in for you at a job interview? My issue with valets has nothing to do with the very real threat of theft either. I understand that parking garages stack the deck, eliminating the natural joy of finding a space and turning it into a little game where everyone wins. 

Everyone shouldn’t win though. Some people should get tickets. Others should get towed. And there are those who should be hauled off in handcuffs with a raincoat over their hands and a flashbulb in their face. The rare, but not unheard of, perp park. If it didn’t matter, I’d just as soon post up in front of fire hydrants and suffer the consequences. To win, you need to find a clean space. Got it?

What about once you find it? With the universal proliferation of rear cameras there’s very little risk anymore in the act of parallel parking. You want a smooth career. You don’t want to be noticed in a job. If you’re noticed, you can be judged or called upon to move a box of supplies from the basement to a storage closet on the upper floors. Yes, noticing might lead to a raise or a bonus, but firings are also the result of knowing who you are. Stay in the shadows, saying very little and doing even less. I mean, do enough that you do your job, but not so much that resentment grows. There are those who wish to embody the cockroach, since they survive rounds of layoffs as well as nuclear annihilation. But you don’t want to be a cockroach. People notice them and when they do, there’s hell to crunch. You need to be much less conspicuous than that.  

Ideally, the day you leave is the day people say things like “huh?” and “who? Slip into your next job the same way you slip out – quietly. With alarm systems as sensitive as the culture allows, so much as kissing a bumper is a mistake. In crowded cities you won’t have the luxury of 18 inches of daylight between you and the other cars. “Leave no trace” isn’t about respecting nature, it’s about parking. And it’s a pretty good career mantra, too.