Our parents always wanted us to be in a rock band. They sent us to rock college, where we got good grades; and, after four years, we all landed steady jobs at the nation’s top rock firms.
The legions of fans, the piles of money, the hot tubs filled with Dom Pérignon — it was all nice. But something was missing.
After a few years of that, we got together to form an off-hours bureaucracy. We’d get home from work and shuck off the uniform of tight jeans, wallet-chains, and rhinestone-studded bracelets; we’d put on pinstripes and ties, then start jamming on budget projections, financial statements, policy recommendations.
Will our bureaucracy ever make it in a market already over-saturated with sprawling government agencies? Who can say. But we’re enjoying the ride in the meantime.