I’m sure everyone knows the saying, “Don’t Burn Any Bridges.” Well, I will say it proudly right now: I am a card carrying Bridge Burner.
I have burned bridges throughout most of my life. I walk away from the inferno, never once feeling bad about setting that bridge ablaze. I can take the heat because I know that you can indeed burn bridges.
Now, I know there are many of you out there who will never burn a bridge. Even if you happened upon one that was smoldering, you’ll risk life and limb to extinguish it, thinking that some day you may just need that bridge.
As many of you know, I’ve burned a lot of bridges in my personal life. Some have been rebuilt over the years, even though they had been consumed by a conflagration of Biblical proportions. I came by my pirate name, Hurricane, honestly. I can huff and puff and blow any bridge down, most often through fiery speech and a very hot temper.
I’ve burned bridges down in my work-a-day life as well.
When I worked at Associated Grocers, I regularly pushed the limit. I’ve chronicled some of my escapades in previous RobZerrvations. I still think one of my finest endeavors was going on weeklong vacation, returning Monday, writing a backdated memo asking for the time off and slipping it two-thirds down the pile of my boss’ unread mail. Sometime later that day, the Big Gajunta called me into her office and asked where I had been. I told her that I wrote her a memo on it weeks ago. She had her secretary go through her pile and low and behold, there’s the memo.
Long story short, eventually they fired me. Bridge burned. I dressed up as a homeless person on my last day at work. The bridge was rebuilt three years later — they hired me to be a consultant and do writing and web projects for them.
I next went to Pacific First Bank. My wonderful boss Chrisine left and they put a retail bank manager in charge of my department, Employee Communications. Ellen Morgan was a complete idiot when it came to what we did there. So, I looked for another job.
The day I accepted my new position at Egghead Software, I dropped into Ellen’s office. “How’s it going, Robb?” she asked. “Great, this is my last day. In fact, it’s my last two hours.” As I said it, my friends walked by her office with my going away cake. This was not rehearsed, but very poetic.
She replied that she didn’t think I was allowed to do that without two weeks notice. I replied, “No, I can quit any time just like you can fire me without notice.”
Bridge burned. Pacific First was sold two years later to Washington Mutual, which itself is now out of business.
In fact, every company I’ve worked for is now out of business. So when I need to prop up my resume, I can say I was the Executive Vice President of Marketing and no one can ever verify the truth of that statement. So much for the burning bridges myth.
When I came from Washington to Florida, I burned a lot of client bridges. After all, I moved the whole company with me in the space of a week. Some of my clients didn’t even know I had moved to Florida until a year or two later. Eventually, most went away, uncomfortable about working with me, treating my move to Florida like I had moved to Zimbabwe.
But, new bridges appeared. My business is now booming again, with clients all over the world. And none of them care one bit where I actually hang my shingle. The world has changed so much that I could be on a beach in the Bahamas and no one would even know. In fact, I could be there right now writing this and you would never know.
And, of course, famously I have not spoken to my two brothers in nearly 30 years now. A falling out over my divorce took care of that. While it was one of the few bridges I have indeed tried to rebuild, they decided not to do any of the work on their end so the bridge remains half built, dangling precariously over a chasm of ill will that can never be forged without it.
I don’t judge others for not burning their bridges. It takes a fine line between savvy and stupidity with just a touch of bravado to just set a bridge on fire, not knowing if you’ll need it some day.
But in my own experience, “Don’t burn any bridges” is highly overrated. Bridges have indeed burned and I have not experienced any dire consequences from it. I think there’s a reason why, too. I would only need the bridge if I ever planned to travel down that path again. I rarely ever do. I prefer instead to ever venture forward, much like Lewis and Clark.
Wait, that isn’t quite right, is it? They would have needed their bridges to go back home. So much for a metaphor.
So, bridge burners of the world. Go ahead, burn a bridge or two. You don’t have to burn them all. But as the poster child of Bridge Burners of America, I stand as a testament that you can burn all the bridges you want and still enjoy life to its fullest.
At least as long as you don’t end up on an island needing a bridge that you’ve already burned.
Somewhere out here on Hutchinson Island with two bridges to the mainland,
— Robb