This One Time, At Band Camp....

I'm Back

2007-08-09T19:48:00.000-07:00

I've finally decided to try keeping up with this again...more to come soon.

Sign, Sign Everywhwere a Sign

2006-07-08T22:57:00.000-07:00

Sign Sign everywhere a sign
Blocking out the scenery breaking my mind
Do this, don't do that, can't you read the sign

Part of my job as a lowly public employee is code enforcement. It is only supposed to be a small part of my job, but it can easily consume 60% of my time or more depending on the day. Let me be clear on this - I LOATHE code enforcement. I got into the public sector because I wanted to help people and effect change. What I have since figured out is that most people don't want to be helped nor do they care about anything beyond their postcard-sized city lot or business. They immediately assume that my only goal is to keep them from doing what they most want to do, and frequently yell at me, call me names, or threaten me. As you can guess, most days are extremely unpredictable, and borderline dangerous such as the one described below...

"So, what will you be working on this week?" my boss opens our staff meeting by asking the question I dread every week. I don't dread it because I am behind on my work - although I always am - rather I dread this question because it is 8:30 in the morning and I haven't had time to think about what I will be working on. Besides, I am not sure it can even be called a staff meeting since our department consists of 2 1/2 people.

"Well....we have Council packets to prepare for, followed by Plan Commission and Landmarks Commisison packets" I reply, stating the obvious since these meetings happen at the same time every month, "and uh....I have some sign code violations to follow up on."

"Ok, sounds good."

I leave the meeting relieved, but knowing that I have a whole lot more to do than sign code violations and packet assembly.

I walk back to my desk and begin my morning rituals - grab my water bottle, fill it up at the cooler, bring it back to my desk, heat up a S'mores pop tart, and stare at the three huge piles on my desk.

Ah-ha! I forgot about the Stormwater Utility brochure I have to create - this will be much more fun than working on sign code violations...About 15 minutes into working on the brochure (just when I was starting to really get into it), the phone rings. This shouldn't surprise me since it is difficult to find much more than 15 minutes at a time to work on anything at all in my office, but it still annoys me.

"Hello, how can I help you?"

"You can help by telling what the hell this letter is about." The man on the phone sounds like he is one signature short of being committed.

"Which letter are you talking about, sir? I send out a lot of letters."

"The letter about my sign. It says I have to have the sign down by tomorrow, but I only just got the letter today."

I took a quick glance at my violation board before answering. "Well, I sent the letter about 30 days ago so how much additional time do you think you will need?" I said this fully willing to give him an extension - I know that these things cost money and take time.

"Isn't the sign grandfathered in? Why can't I just keep it?"

I explained to him that "grandfathered in" does not mean what people think it does and that the sign had lost its legal non-conforming status....blah, blah, blah. I mean, didn't he read the letter - it is all in there exactly as I explained it to him over the phone.

"To tell you the truth, this city is such a piece of shit city that I don't open any mail that comes from city hall" Now he is getting really angry and I am not in the mood to deal with people like him.

"In that case, I cannot give you an extension. If the sign is not down by tomorrow, pole structure included, I will begin to write daily citations."

His reply came out so fast and furious that it sounded like it was one word. "YoufuckingbitchI shouldcomedownthererightnowandslityourthroat-" I slammed the phone down onto the receiver, immediately picked it up again and dialed our police department.

Before long, an officer arrived to take my statement. After I described to him what had happened, he told me he would be visiting this man's house. I have to admit that I was a bit nervous about this. He really did sound like a raving lunatic and I figured that I had a 50/50 chance that the visit from the fuzz would make him more angry and he would try to come find me.

Now it was time to get some work done on that brochure...

At lunch, I decided to go to one of the local restaurants. It was a beautiful day and I was starting to feel better about this morning's phone call.

"Hi, your food is almost ready" the owner greeted me with a smile before disappearing behind the kitchen door. When she came back out with my food, I remembered that I had something to talk to her about and decided to briefly bring it up.

"Before I forget again, I wanted to talk to you about your great sidewalk sign" I begin gingerly, with nothing but the best intentions "If you get a permit for it, you won't be constrianed to any maximum time it can be out. I had to speak to most of your neighboring businesses about the same thing - they are all getting permits."

I quickly realized that this was all wrong, no matter how nice or helpful I was.

The owner went into a complete tirade about how she shouldn't have to get a permit because the sign is on her property, not on city property, and that the city has an historic plaque on her property that she gave permission for. This went on for about 5 minutes, with my occasional interjections of "but having a plaque on your property doesn't exempt you from permit requirements" and "signs on walls are on your property, but you still need permits for those". By this time, a small crowd of lunch-goers had gathered waiting to be seated. This did not stop the owner. I walked out of the establishment embarrassed and angry. I decided I would not spend my money there again.

I had a hard time eating my lunch, but eventually choked it down. I couldn't help but take her attack personally - I was only trying to help.

Back at the office, I had an urgent message from the Mayor waiting for me. Great. Now what? I quickly dial his cell number. "Hi Mayor, what's up?"

"You need to be careful when you speak to some of our business owners during the lunch hour. Just keep that in mind the next time you need to talk to one of them about something."

"I didn't realize the situation was going to be so volatile. I meant to help her - to give her a better solution. When I began the conversation, there was no one else in the restaurant, but I will be more careful in the future - thanks." I hung up, not really sure what I was thanking him for.

Besides my usual interruptions, the rest of the day in the office went smoothly. I finished the brochure and began a grant application. While shutting down my computer, I thought that the day went ok considering. At least the Mayor wasn't mad at me...

On the way out to my car with some fellow co-workers, I heard someone calling my name. I turned around to see one of our self-proclaimed "sign nazi's", and an all-around jerk of a citizen that takes the "servant" part of "civil servant" seriously. Was he actually following me out to my car????

He raised his hand in the air using two fingers to beckon me over to him while he whistled for me as if I was a dog.

What the hell is happening today? I thought as I walked backwards so I didn't lose pace with my co-workers.

"What?" I yell across the street to him.

"Come over here"

"I'm on my way home - I can't"

"Did you send letters out regarding the three sign violations I gave you last week?" He continued walking toward me. I was grateful that my companions slowed down a bit so I could walk backwards at a slower pace.

"No - I haven't had time"

"When are you going to get to it. You need to start doing these things for me. I pay your salary you know. Come over here so we can talk" He was visibly agitated. I had a feeling that I would not be safe if I went to speak to him alone.

"No-I have to get home" At that, I turned my back to him and quickly went to my car.

Ten minutes later, my cell phone was ringing and flashing "Mayor" on the caller id. "Will this day ever end??" I practically screamed before hitting the answer button.

"Hello"

"What is wrong with you today? You can't talk to people like that. Brian told me that you aren't following up on any of his complaints and that you were outright rude to him."

"Mayor, I really think you need to talk to the department head about this. I haven't done anything wrong. These people are out of control. Trust me." I knew I would receive a call within another ten minutes. Like clockwork....it was my boss.

"Hello"

"I just talked to the Mayor..."

After my long explanation of the day I had, my department head was satisfied with my explanation. I'm not really sure that helped me out much, though since it means I had to come back the next day.

Oh yeah - the sign, pole and all, was down by the next morning.

WTF?? What year is it????

2006-06-09T21:39:00.000-07:00

Settling in on my couch for some well-deserved R&R, I poured myself a glass of wine and turned my tv on. I couldn't believe what was before me - it was Poison screaming "don't need nuthin' but a good time...". I quickly ran into my dark kitchen, stumbling over a cat and into a wall on the way there, to check the calendar. Relieved to find out that it is actually 2006 and that the world has not come to an end, I pinched myself to make sure I was not in some Twilight Zone-esque bad dream. Then, I slowly and cautiously walked back into the room and proceeded to watch ("ain't lookin' for nuthin' but a good time..."). After a few seconds, I started to remember that I had other channels to watch - but for some reason I was glued to the long hair, pyrotechnics, and 80s style (besides, I only have about 5 other channels since we refuse to give into the cable or satellite tv conspiracy...but that's another blog entry for another day)

So, what's the deal? I thought bands like Poison worked the county fair and Native American casino circuit before eventually fading into wrinkled ben-gay laden heaps. How old are they? I would have researched it, but it is way too late for me and I am still in shock. I remember the first Poison song I ever heard - Talk Dirty to Me. I had a private affair with that song - listening to it behind my locked bedroom door because if my mother heard the words, she would have certainly grounded me. I never purchased the album, just taped it from a friend - who taped it from the radio (KPLZ - ahh, the memories that radio station helped form...).

One thing that struck me about their performance tonight is that they sounded like, well...like Poison. They didn't sound any different than I remember them sounding. As weird as the whole experience was for me, I say good for Poison for getting back out there before arthritis and sciatica set in...

Maybe they can use their existing songs and come up with new lyrics to keep their fans as they age....like Speak Loudly for Me (Talk Dirty to Me), or Viagra for a Good Time (Nothin' but a Good Time).....

Mother-smoking choices

2006-04-07T21:54:00.000-07:00

The people of the city in which I live, shop and love voted this week (for the second time) to ban smoking in all workplaces including bars, nightclubs, and restaurants. The debate between those who were for a workplace smoking ban and those who were against it (at least for bars and restaurants) sometimes seemed complicated, which makes me glad that it is over. I'm not glad it is over because the debate is complicated, rather I am glad it is over because the debate is so simple that I can't believe some people lacked the capacity to understand how simple the issue really is.

On the one hand, the "pro-smoking" side would say "If someone doesn't want to work in smoke/be around smoke they should just avoid working at/going to places that allow it." They were completely missing the point of a ban - this statement is hypocritical. Take my situation for instance - I have a spouse that is extremely allergic to cigarette smoke. Before the ban, we felt trapped - about the only places we could go for a bit of nightlife besides our couch were retail stores. Believe me, shopping with your spouse for more than 1/2 hour is not my idea of a good time. Also, since most restaurants are set up so you have to walk through the bar or smoking area to get to the non-smoking area, we became quite good at preparing gourmet meals at home. Now it is like being set free - we can go anywhere we want to and we don't get sick. The smokers have not had any freedoms taken away - they can still smoke, they just have to do it outside.

Which leads me to another point....which right carries more weight - the smoker's right to smoke anwhere they please, or a person's right to breathe clean air (well as clean as can be when you consider some smog-ridden cities). My feelings on that are obvious....

Another commonly used argument is that local businesses will by forced to shut down and/or lay off workers. Apparently non-smokers hate going out for food and drinks. This argument is flawed in so many ways. First of all, there are no other cities nearby that can provide the same kind of nightlife - with the exception of the hick bars on the city outskirts in which case I could see them losing business to the hick bars in the nearby towns. Second, only 20% of our local population are actually smokers. You can't tell me that only 20% of our population patronizes our local bars and restaurants. Not only that, but other cities have reported that once the non-smokers began venturing out, business increased (including a few business owners in this city)! The third flaw with this argument is that I can't believe that the pro-smoking side would publicly put businesses before health - money before public welfare - why couldn't they have turned this into a positive and worked with the city and its citizens once the ban was in place the first time rather than giving the ban a week, then filing a petition for another referendum????

Since the (second) vote, both sides agree on one thing - that a statewide smoking ban is necessary - they just stand on different ground when it comes to the severity of the ban. I can't wait to see how this plays out on the state level. So far, the smoking ban they are reviewing is very weak and would supercede any local bans. It would allow smoking in bars, clubs, and restaurants with bars.

Finally, I just want to say how very disappointed I am in the pro-smoking side now that they have lost another referendum. When some of them were interviewed they made childish comments like "Its nice to see the other side (pro-ban) at a bar for a change" (commenting on the referendum party for the pro-ban side that was held at a downtown restaurant bar). Again, this is an opportunity for them to work with the community and turn this into a positive - market the no-smoking atmosphere to other communities that don't have the same advantage - attract employees that enjoy working in a no-smoking environment - do something with it. Band together and hire a friggin marketing firm, I don't care - just stop acting so childish. The people have spoken. Twice. And you lost. Twice.

Conference Conclusions...

2006-03-04T21:45:00.000-08:00

After my initial written observations from breakfast and the sessions, I did not have time to write any more since the rest of the night was social in nature. There was a reception with cheese trays, bread with tomato bruschetta, stuffed mushrooms, prime rib, and mashed potato martinis (mashed potatoes served in a martini glass with your choice of a variety of toppings) - and of course free drinks. Not just beer and soda, either - you could order just about any drink you wanted for nothing more than a tip to the bartender - or a smile if you previously left a large tip. I don't normally excessively indulge even if the liquor is free, but for some reason I just kept going back to the bar for another and another..... All the while trying to remember to keep sucking in my gibber (ab-area) so it doesn't spill over my pants. By this time my feet are killing me and of course there are no stools or chairs on which to sit. So I suffer....

Finally, the schmooze-fest in the conference area is over so I rush to my room to slip into something more comfortable - jeans and my favorite long-sleeved black t-shirt. Unfortunately, I have nothing else to put on my feet except the 3 1/2 inch heeled boots I wore all day. I put my boots back on, spritz on some light perfume, and head up to the hospitality suite with a few friends. The funny thing is that my feet don't seem to be bothering me anymore.

The hospitality suite is packed with people although I hardly even glance at any of them as I head straight for the drink table. I make my drink (with disgusting diet Coke) and head to the center of the room to try and break into a conversation or two. Since I was having no luck at all, I turned my attention to a poker game in progress and proceeded to join the table. Before I knew it, I was left at the table trapped in a corner with two sleazy guys that wanted to play strip poker. They claimed to be "conference crashers", but I knew they had been conference attendees. One of them was passing himself off as a porn-store clerk. Normally this would be funny to me, but they kept the charade up and refused to tell me their names.

Finally, one of my friends joined the game followed by another man that I know. This gave me an "out", so I squeezed behind porn-store guy, grabbed my friend and left with a few others to go bar hopping.

The rest of the night is pretty fuzzy. I remember that it was snowing - a beautiful slow-falling, large-flake snow. I also remember going to two bars and never being without a drink in my hand, laughing a lot, getting pushed around by the young college kids in one of the bars, and doing snow angels on the capital lawn.

The next morning I swore I would never drink again.

Well, I at least swear I will never overindulge again.

At a conference, that is.

Just so this is clear: I will try not to overindulge at a conference if that conference has interesting topics on the second day. That is to say if those interesting sessions are in the morning.....

Conference Observations 3 - Second Session

2006-02-17T20:33:00.000-08:00

For this session, I am sitting toward the back of the room on the right. There is a man sitting two rows ahead of me with such a severe comb-over that I was compelled to sketch it in my conference materials book. It was parted about 2/3 of the way up the back of his head, horizontally, and brought both forward and to the side. The hair appears thick and healthy - which I think is kind of ironic given what he is presumably covering up.

I wonder how long the comb-over hairs are and at what point he decided to grow it long enough that these few hairs would cover what I can only imagine is a sparse top.

Looking around the room I notice that there aren't nearly as many people attending this session as the last. I can hear a low roar of voices socializing in the hall. A bit jealous, I turn back to the speaker and try to pay attention but it is just after lunch and I am full and tired. Only barely listening, I begin to color in the hair on my comb-over sketch with a pen I took from one of the conference vendor booths. Two more hours to go and I can take a nap before the reception.

Conference Observations 2 - First Session and Lunch

2006-02-13T19:29:00.000-08:00

It is close to the end of the first session. I am sitting about 1/3 of the way to the podium in the center section of the auditorium. One of the men I noticed at breakfast - the long-legged African-American - stands up and begins to walk down the aisle near my seat. As he gets closer, I notice that he is short.

At lunch I have had the opportunity and pleasure of watching a very attractive man. My back is to the vast windows that look out onto a lake. It is a bright day, and this man is facing me and the windows which has the effect of illuminating his beautiful aqua eyes every time he glances toward the windows. His eyes are so bright and full of color - my favorite color - it is hard to look away.

I look away anyway because I don't want him to know I am watching. Besides, I am married and he has "married" written all over him. I am just enjoying the view.

He has a 5 o'clock shadow although it is only noon. He isn't paying attention to the luncheon speaker, or he doesn't find her jokes humorous. His tie is very steely and business-like - a shiny silver that goes very well with his black suit. Short dark hair, very clean cut, strong jaw, nice nose, and a slightly downturned mouth with thin lips.

I am sure by now he has seen me watching.

Conference Observations 1 - Breakfast

2006-02-11T21:58:00.000-08:00

I am seated at a small table for two. The waitress took the second place-setting away as if to remind me that I am one of the only people in the restaurant eating alone. I notice that they put those of us without a dining partner at nearby tables.

The man eating alone at the table in front of me looks like a younger Dustin Hofffman. He even dresses like I would imagine Dustin to dress - long sleeved collarless black shirt and a pair of jeans. He is the only person in this restaurant that is casually dressed. He is also the only person in the restaurant that appears to be eating without consequence - bananas foster french toast and coffee. He is too engrossed in the USA Today to notice me watching him.

The three men at the table next to him are animatedly talking about traveling to Ireland with their wives and how they hate shopping when they are on vacation. I know one of them and have caught him looking at me a couple of times, but I have not let on that I have recognized him. The three men are all wearing business suits in typical shades of black, grey and blue.

The man seated alone to my left looks familiar to me. He has long legs, is African-American and is drinking tea that was served in a white traditonal-looking Japanese teapot. After a while, he is joined by an older white gentleman in a gray business suit. They did not utter a greeting. The first man just continues reading his USA Today, while the second man opens his. No words are yet exchanged, yet they continue to sit and face each other.

"Dustin" has left. His table is being reset.

The three men have moved their conversation to the subject of how good their food is. It is hard to hear what else they are talking about - they have all lowered their voices to barely above a whisper.

The older gentleman at the table to my left just broke the silence with "Well, shall we mosey on over?" to which the first man replied "What time is it?". After the older man told him the time, a few silent moments passed before they got up and left the table - without speaking.

As more people leave, I start to feel anxious. It is getting too close to 8:30 - when the keynote speaker begins his session. A few other conference attendees are still in the restaurant - some men sitting at a table in the corner. One is typing on his laptop while the others read the complementary USA Today that they picked up outside their hotel room doors. The three men sitting near me are still speaking very quietly, but they are now almost finished with their meal and will be leaving for the conference soon.

I quickly finish my english muffin and as much of the gigantic fresh fruit plate as possible so I can make it to the keynote speaker in time...

Tales from a Conference

2006-02-11T21:41:00.000-08:00

Conferences are like a serving of rich, indulgent creme brulee in the middle of a never-ending meal of steamed swiss-chard. Unfortunately, just like the typical small serving size of creme brulee, conferences do not last long, forcing us all to face our next plate of swiss-chard - and try to chew and swallow until the next tiny ramekin of creme brulee comes along.

The conference I most recently attended was no exception to this rule, it was indulgent but short. All but one of the following conference posts are observations I made during mealtimes and social events at this conference (I actually listened to the speakers during most of the sessions, so there was no time to write anything in my tiny notebook).

Enjoy....

Friday Nights

2006-01-27T20:38:00.000-08:00

As I sit here late on a Friday night with my laptop in front of me, a game of solitaire minimized and the web to keep me company, I realize how comfortable my life has become. It really hit me today when I was driving in my 36 mpg economy car to the local Family Video (I had to return Lust Vegas) and the Hmong/Thai restaurant for our takeout order, that just about every Friday night is the same for me.

I remember not all that long ago (I am only barely 30 after all), every Friday night reeked with possibility. I could actually smell it in the air. When I caught the scent, my stomach would immediately tighten and become anxious and the smile on my face would widen. The night was mine. Maybe I would meet some friends at the comedy club for some pure no-holding-back-crazy laughter (oh, and the two drink minimum). Or, maybe we would go clubbing and tease the always-watching men with our seductive - but not too seductive dancing, then go home drunk and pass out with a piece of pizza still in our mouth. It didn't matter if I did the same thing every Friday back then, I still felt that lurch in my stomach because every Friday had the possibility of being great.

Does that mean that my Fridays no longer hold the possibility of greatness? I don't think so. In fact, every Friday seems to get better with age. I no longer feel the excitement and anxiousness, but it has been replaced with true contentment and freedom. Being (just barely) in my 30s and married, I now have new freedoms that I could never enjoy in my 20s. Financial freedom, freedom from caring what others think about you because I am not trying to meet a mate, and freedom from my friends because now that they are also all married, they understand if I don't feel like getting together.

The financial freedom has been literally a life saver. In my 20s, I didn't think twice about driving home a little bit buzzed. Now, however, I have the financial freedom to take a cab home, puke on the lawn that I own before I walk in the door, and pass out with a more expensive piece of pizza in my mouth.

The contentment comes from knowing I have someone at home that will take care of me on Fridays that I am sick, fight with me on the Fridays I am crabby, clean the toilet before we get home for my friends and I on the Fridays I go out, and watch a movie and eat Hmong/Thai takeut on all the other Fridays.

Yep, Fridays just keep getting better.

Great Circle of Crap

2006-01-23T07:11:00.000-08:00

So help me God, if I don't get out of this mid-level civil-servant utterly thankless go-nowhere local government job soon I am going to end up at a mental hospital.

What is bothering me isn't disrespect from the public - I can handle that. Sometimes it is downright funny, and you can always make fun of them after they leave. The thing that is really upsetting to me is being expected to efficiently handle the jobs of two-three people - and remain organized. With local and state officials unwilling to spend what would be a mere drop in the bucket so we can hire one person, they just expect that everything can and will get done by yours truly. Oh, and it seems that my boss whom I have nothing but respect for, agrees with them. He thinks that by shifting the way we do things and giving a few more things to our 1/2 time administrative assistant, we should be able to efficiently handle all the work coming our way - and remain organized.

Well there is only so much shifting a person can do....if you keep giving them new responsibilities, it creates more work and no amount of shifting is going to help them get it done. There just isn't enough time in the day. Besides that, I'm not a "my job is my life" kind of person. I only work so I can survive.

Oooh, look something just came for me from the census bureau. They want me to do something for them and have it done within 10 days. Another responsibility.

The Great Circle of Crap is complete.

The Breadman

2006-01-21T22:01:00.000-08:00

All afternoon we would wait for the sounds of the Breadman - the loud, rumbling engine and tires crunching on the dried gravel of my grandparent's driveway. It didn't sound any different than any other large vehicle, but the anticipation surrounding his arrival gave us hyper-sensitive hearing such that we could almost hear him coming over the Idle Creek Bridge over two miles down the road.

As soon as we heard any hint of the Breadman, my cousins and I would anxiously wait for my grandma to look out a window and verify that it was indeed him. With the nod of her head, we would race out the door with my grandma at our heels yelling "Get back here now, wait 'til he stops the truck!". Sometimes she would make us wait in the trailer while she got her money and list ready - just to make sure we were not going to get in his way.

The truck itself was nothing special - an old white box-truck with rusty double doors at the back that creaked and groaned when they were opened. You had to watch that the doors didn't swing back and hit you before the Breadman had a chance to chain them back. Oh, but when those doors were finally secured open, leaving the contents of the truck visible to all nearby, it was impossible to keep us kids away from it. Before us lay packages of Wonder bread in red crates piled to the ceiling, gallons of milk, bags of sugar, flour, and other staples. But, at the back of the truck closest to the edge, were rows and rows of candy.

We would all loiter near the back of the truck, eyeing up the candy hoping against hope that grandma would buy us some M&Ms. She always did. The Breadman would hand the bag of M&Ms to me with a smile and I would tear of a small corner, immediately reach in and put one in my mouth, and smile back.

The Breadman's truck was so much more than a convenience store on wheels. Local news and gossip would travel with and through this medium. I remember hearing the Breadman say things like "Did you know the Jenkin's daughter is expecting?" and "The Smith's down the road have a tractor for sale, do you know anyone interested in buying?" and sometimes grandma would ask "Is there any work out there for Tom (my grandpa)?". The neighbors were not geographically close, but because of the Breadman they felt close.

Today we have the Schwann's man with his uniform and yellow truck with professional graphics. Somehow I don't think he means nearly as much to local folks as the Breadman once did.

The Bad Place

2006-01-16T11:51:00.000-08:00

This play was written for my fellow sane co-workers. They all thought it was absolutely hilarious and demanded more out of me. Fortunately for me, I took another job about 2 weeks after writing this, so I did not write any more acts (fortunately for anyone who was bored enough to actually read this from beginning to end.) Although, I don't think much more was needed – this was pretty much my hell every day, I mean apart from the threats and discrimination. I don't expect anyone else to understand it, but I thought it would give me some inspiration to start something new and more descriptive based on my current job and all the wack-jobs I have to deal with.

THE BAD PLACE a play

The cast (except "Tom", all names have been changed to protect the writer)
Drew: early thirties; changes personalities like a chameleon changes colors.
Tom: The boss – and don't you forget it; pure evil; likes to make water bongs out of pottery (not that that is evil).
Lisa: early thirties, go-with-the-popular-crowd type, secretly in love with Robert.
Vanessa: mid-twenties; hates her boss
Robert: late forties, in early retirement mode and can't wait to get Lisa alone.
Jim: ?
Kip: new guy, perceptive but distances himself from the office politics. However, he is somewhat suspect due to the company he chooses to keep.

ACT ONE
Scene one: A small government office with cramped cubicles. It is early in the morning and everything is quiet. The mood is mixed, some appear happy to be at work, while others let their true selves show through. The scene opens with Lisa and Vanessa quietly working at their desks, while Drew is obnoxiously singing and tapping on his desk.

(Tom walks in)
TOM (to Drew): How's it goin', goomba?
DREW: It's Thomas Aquinas! (said as if he were excited to see Tom)

(At this time Vanessa and Lisa roll their eyes and peer at each other from behind their computer monitors)

Tom walks around to where Lisa and Vanessa are.
TOM: How's it goin' everyone?
LISA:
VANESSA:
Tom walks back into his office, oblivious to the fact that nobody answered him.

(Kip walks in)
KIP (to Drew): Good Morning!
DREW: Hey, how's it goin', my man?
(At this time Vanessa and Lisa roll their eyes and peer at each other from behind their computer monitors).

It is virtually quiet now for about a half an hour when...
(Jim walks in)
JIM (to Drew): Hey, what it is, main?
DREW: What it is, what it is? (copying Jim)

This kind of bantering goes on for what seems like hours.

It is later in the morning, and everyone seems to be concentrating on their work when they are actually quietly sitting at their desks, checking e-mail and surfing the net (except Drew, who has turned his music up to an intolerable level and left the room to get some "mud"). (Just to add to this....we later found out that "Jim" was downloading a lot of porn - he didn't get fired or reprimanded)

(Drew walks in, sits down, and resumes his obnoxious tapping and singing)
(Robert walks in)
DREW (to Robert): Well, look who finally decided to come to work!
DREW (to Jim): He thinks he can just come to work whenever he wants to, doesn't he, Jimmy?
JIM: Yeah, but that's okay-he can make it up to us by buying us ice cream.
DREW: Yeah, Robbie, we'll let you make it up to us by getting us some dilly bars!
JIM: I ain't gettin' no cheap dilly bar. I want a Peanut Buster Parfait or Banana split or somethin' like that.

(Tom comes out of his office to assert his position as "boss")
TOM: Let's have a meeting, everyone.
DREW: A meeting of the mindless!
TOM: Meeting of the mindless (copying Drew)!

(At this time Vanessa and Lisa roll their eyes and peer at each other from around their computer monitors)

Scene Two: The "meeting of the mindless". The meeting room has four large tables pushed together in the middle of the room. It is dark and dingy government hell-hole. It is the kind of place in which “executive decisions” are made (at least in this agency). The scene opens with everyone in the room seated around the table, except for Robert.

TOM (to everyone): Where's Rob?
JIM: Let's just get on with it. We don't need him, anyway.
TOM (seriously-with meaning, but pretending to be joking): You're right, we don't.

(At this time, Robert walks in the room, and the meeting begins with Tom blah, blah, blahing about what he will be doing for the week, although it is questionable that any of it actually gets done. Everyone blah, blah, blahs about what they will be doing for the week, and the meeting ends with a bunch of executive decisions made by Tom, reassuring them all that he is the lord and boss off all who cross his path.)

New Title?

2006-01-15T18:28:00.000-08:00

New Title?
Hopefully I will be able to come up with a new title soon....
I just happened to be perusing pictures this afternoon of my friends and I at band camp. I have red hair and played flute, and used to tell band camp stories that always began with "This one time, at band camp..." (way before American Pie made the phrase famous), so this title seemed appropriate at least for now.

I thought about relaying one of my band camp stories in this blog, but as I recall none of them were nearly as interesting as I used to think they were so I will save any potential readers of this blog from these memories.....at least for now......