Sine qua nonessential

My boss, not a man prone to verbosity, called yesterday with what seemed to be a dire message.

''The mayor and the governor are asking businesses to operate today with essential workers only."

''Don't you worry for a fraction of a second," I interjected. ''I'll get to the newsroom if I have to traverse ice-covered highways on a horse-driven sleigh. I'll brave sub-Arctic temperatures, persevere blinding, windswept snow, confront unthinkable meteorological obstacles in the grand and noble pursuit of news."

''Actually," he replied, ''I was going to tell you to take the day off. We could use the extra space in the parking lot."

Oh.

All of which creates something of an awkward schism between the essential and the nonessential worker. Let's face it:The day off is great, but at the cost of being called superfluous, redundant, even unnecessary, I think I'd just as soon lace up a pair of winter boots and truck off to work. Suppose the guy in charge suddenly starts wondering why it is that he needs nonessential workers at all.

So herein, a few guidelines on how to determine your place in this world:

 Essentialness operates on an inverse proportion. The more essential you regard yourself, the less you probably are.

 If you use any sort of title, whether it be Ambassador or Mr., there's a high probability that you're nonessential.

 If you have an assistant, he or she can pretty much do anything you usually do. If you typically use that assistant to dial calls and announce to the called party, ''Please hold the line for [insert title here] so and so," then you are the most nonessential of the nonessential.

Let's put this in perspective. There are well-fed lawyers stacked floor upon floor in every downtown office tower who spent wads of money having their long driveways plowed so they could drive into their offices yesterday to work achingly long hours preparing for trials in cases that will settle before trials ever take place. Those men and women are every inch nonessential.

The entire Massachusetts General Court, meaning both the Senate and the House of Representatives, is profoundly nonessential. The Boston City Council may be the most nonessential governing body in history, led by a man, President (now there's a title for you) Michael Flaherty, who serves as the poster-boy for nonessential workers across the nation.

All those television weather reporters who stand in gusty winds and freezing cold and squalls of snow to tell viewers that it's foul outside? You be the judge.

So who is essential? Apparently the guy charged with plowing the left lane of the Southeast Expressway was deemed essential, the guy who was supposed to plow the right lane was not. Mitt Romney's hair stylist, essential. Ditto to Tom Menino's speech coach.

Romney himself? Could go either way. But the thought came to mind when he ordered the vast number of nonessential state workers to stay home: Which part of my state tax bill is nonessential, as well?

As a rule of thumb, the less you are paid, the more essential you probably are. If you sit in an office, the probability of being essential plummets dramatically, unless you work for the Patriots and are in charge of distributing Super Bowl tickets.

The men and women who clean the streets, fix the pipes, empty the trash, deliver the newspaper, bake the doughnuts, tend to the sick, care for the homebound -- these are the most essential people of all, lacking fame but never honor. The woman down the street who allows the neighborhood kids to hang out in her finished basement? The most essential person in town.

But back to my editor, who, for the purposes of this discussion, will be deemed not merely essential, but critical.

''You know," he said after reading through most of this column, ''there's supposed to be a flurry tomorrow. Why don't you take the whole week off?"

Oh, man, the truth can hurt. But you'll forgive me for thinking he's essentially wrong.

Brian McGrory is a Globe columnist. He can be reached at mcgrory@globe.com.