‘Just like the office.’ Working from home was a novel concept in SLO County in 1999
Working remotely was a novel idea 23 years ago.
Computer modems were dial up via telephone lines, often through a service such as America Online or CompuServe. The modem would bong and hiss as it went through the handshake process.
Monitors, meanwhile, were picture tubes the size of portable ice chests.
No wonder managers were skeptical about the concept of telecommuting.
Now, thanks to shutdowns related to the COVID-19 pandemic, everyone from students to office workers are more than familiar with working from home.
I miss having an office — and engaging conversations with co-workers about story ideas or baseball.
Telegram-Tribune reporter Jeff Ballinger wrote about a Caltrans employee who was working from home in San Luis Obispo County and then wrote a first-person review of his experience in this story, published in Oct. 8, 1999.
‘Teleworking’ the day shift
Computer-modem offers some a chance to work at home
Teleworking is the new and improved term, and may or may not be the tsunami of the future, depending on whether employers and employees can develop the trust and disprove the caricature.
Linda Dolling, who teleworks full time for Caltrans from her Templeton home, explains the old term’s demise.
“You’re not actually commuting,” she said Thursday morning from her living room office. “You’re working at home.”
Yesterday was Telecommute Thursday, day four of Rideshare Week ‘99, a weeklong event to promote alternative forms of transportation coordinated by SLO Regional Rideshare.
It ends today with Bike-to-Work Friday.
Dolling has teleworked for up to three days a week the past eight years. Ever since the Cuesta Grade expansion project began last month, she’s been working at home all week at her job as associate transportation planner.
“It’s just like the office, but it’s quieter.”
Dolling describes her job as a liaison between Caltrans and the San Luis Obispo Council of Governments. She only needs to go into the office once a week for general staff meetings, and for the occasional meeting with SLOCOG officials.
Dolling is one of three employees in her office who have become full-time teleworkers, as part of a one-year pilot program to save office space and parking, as well as reduce traffic and air pollution. So far, she said it seems to be working well for the trio as well as their employer.
“It definitely freed up three work spaces in the office.”
Contrary to cartoonists’ portrayals, Dolling said working at home isn’t such a casual affair.
“If I’m in my PJs and there’s a meeting called ... I’ve got to be ready to go,” she said.
Dolling said that as much as possible she wears the clothes she’d wear to the office, and follows the same routines. She starts work at 7 a.m., just like her office colleagues, and finishes the day at 4:30 p.m.
However, at home she does have a few creature comforts. Her office is one end of her room, which gives her a nice view of her yard’s flowers and trees.
“I have my own window office here,” she said.
Dolling can also pet office mate Molly, an Australian shepherd. She has four children, but they are adults and have moved out of the house.
“It’s just Molly and me.”
Dolling also maintains an office formality. When she answers the telephone - forwarded from her office line - she says, “Planning, this is Linda.”
“As far as the public goes, they’re going to get the same service,” she said. “To make it as seamless as possible is important. Most people don’t know where I am when I answer the phone.”
By not commuting, Dolling doesn’t have to make the daily trek over the Cuesta Grade into San Luis Obispo. She said that may be the biggest difference.
“I have an hour more in my life,” she said.
Communicating with her boss is easy using e-mails several times a day, and she also sends him copies of all her work e-mails. She said developing the level of trust needed with her boss to make such an arrangement work — potentially the biggest hurdle for most people — has not been difficult.
“We’re really lucky at Caltrans, because we’ve got management support. That’s the biggest issue (at other companies she’s researched).
“Some managers want to see you working.”
Genesis of a teleworker
Contrary to the predictions of my colleagues, I am not lounging the day away in my bathrobe in front of the television. I haven’t even turned on any of those much-too-perky morning news shows or voyeuristic talk shows.
Anyway, I’m much too busy for television. I get up late at 7:15 a.m., in time to make lunch for my stepdaughter and glance at the newspaper.
As her ride to school arrives, I’m out the door for a half-hour run. When I get back, I have just enough time to stretch, rehydrate and shower and shave before driving our foreign exchange student to school.
After returning home and eating breakfast, I finally sit down at my computer and get to work at 9:45 a.m. I avoid using my wife’s computer, which has an Internet connection, so that I don’t get diverted by surfing the Net.
I’ve taken some other precautions to keep temptations to procrastinate to a minimum. In the past, I’ve worked from home for a few hours at a time but never an entire day without a medical excuse.
I shave and wear work clothes to put up at least the pretense of a work environment. Granted, my selection is more appropriate for Casual Friday, but who can see me now?
Like Dolling, though, I am prepared to run out of the house at moment’s notice. Like if there’s some emergency such as a school on fire, or if we run out of cookies.
I have my two pens, my office card key, my press badge and my business cards in my shirt pocket, and my pager on my belt. Just in case.
I call in to check my messages at work, and then realize I haven’t taken my vitamins yet. I run downstairs, take care of that, and get settled back in at my computer.
I call Dolling and have a pleasant conversation with her. I hang up, then go through my notes, underlining key passages before beginning to write.
At 11:45 a.m., my wife arrives home from her morning teaching job. I talk to her about her morning for precisely 10 minutes — one of two such breaks mandated by the state for each eight-hour shift — and then get back to work.
I finish Dolling’s part of the story at 12:30 p.m., and have a half-hour lunch break with my wife. At 1 p.m., she leaves for Cal Poly where she teaches an English class, and I head back upstairs to write what you’re reading now.
Not typical day at the office
The first half of my day was much more exciting than it sounds. I left out the parts about petting the cats, starting a load of laundry, and popping in a Van Cliburn compact disk, lest my boss get the impression I’m not working.
The rest of the day I spend interviewing bicycle commuters for Saturday’s story and working on my Monday column.
I could get used to this kind of schedule. I’ve been very productive in a comfortable environment, and I don’t feel guilty at all for not showing my face in the office.
However, I couldn’t do this every day. I need the constant “distractions” of my co-workers. Bouncing ideas or barbs off of them is vital to the dynamic atmosphere required for a newsroom.
In addition, I don’t think many employers could do this regularly for anyone but their most trusted employees. Not unless we can hook up Orwellian minicams in teleworkers’ homes, so bosses can check in on their workers anytime.
It’ll happen.
Just you watch.
