Ok, screw all the rest of it. It's Halloween, and at the place I grabbed lunch there was a bowl of candy and I took a mini Three Musketeers. And it's great.
Chocolate is the greatest food invention ever.
-t
recommended download:
The Coors, Breathless
what? I can like "whooa-ooh-oh, whooa-ooh-oh, leave me breathless"! ;)
Tuesday, October 31, 2006
Concerning cowardice, and dinosaurs
I'm a coward, apparently. When it comes down to fight-or-flight, I flee. My self-preservation instinct is "get the hell out of here fast."
And I hate to think that about myself. "Coward" isn't something anyone wants to be, but here I am: When the going gets tough; Run.
Or, at least that's the conclusion I've come to based upon these last few days at work. All I want to do is get out. Gone, baby, gone. I could pick up my jacket, pick up my bag, and never look back. Yesterday almost featured an indefinite lunch break.
I've been faced with irrational expectations since my first manager quit. My coworkers, as far as I can understand, are operating under the assumption that as long as they know something, I must know it too.
The pressure builds up until a day or two before the monthly reporting is due. All of a sudden, from nowhere, I'm told to accomplish tasks I don't understand. As difficult as it may be, I try and struggle through it, even going so far as to blindly strike keys and hope for the best.
All it would take is a litte oversight. I'm sure that Insolent Bob could stand over my shoulder and say "No, that's not right. This type of security has to be booked on the foreign cash account, not the USD cash account. It's not usually a big deal because we only see about one or two of these a month, but, there's an easy way to tell. Just look here at the last two letters of the security code. That will let you know which account to book it to."
That seems easy, right? A tip. Check the last two letters, and from then on I wouldn't be messing up trades or positions or cash because I'm booking a foreign trade to a local account. Teach a man to fish...
But Insolent Bob doesn't offer tips. He offers vague, often incoherent statements of disbelief from his desk two rows over.
"You mean you didn't run a position report and then check holdings foreign with a date of yesterday? Or why didn't you go settle all trades under rebook?"
And sometimes I want to scream. Or pick up my monitor and launch it across the office. Or combust. Spontaneously. That would teach these guys a lesson.
But, most times, or after the fire fades from my imagination a new idea grows. Pick up your coat. Walk out the door. Don't look back. Why the hell are you getting so worked up about this anyway? It's not like you care.
Though, it now seems that is not quite an instinctual flight response. That's actually more of a "fuck that noise" response.
Maybe I'm not a coward.
On the other hand, if I'm not a coward, if my instinct is not to flee, does that imply my instinct is to fight?
We're talking about base instincts here, the most animalistic, instantaneous response. If you've got time to think your way out of a situation it doesn't apply.
I imagine me, in a loincloth, somewhere in the Mesozoic, facing off with a giant tyrannosaurus, club in one hand, rock in the other. "What would I do?"
I think I'd run, banking on my top speed being greater than the great lizard's. Also, I'd try to climb up a mountain, because I'd probably be safe.
But maybe I could take him.
Here in the office I don't know if fight would serve me any better than it would against the T-Rex. I could punch Insolent Bob in the face, but that would just make him mad, and then he'd punch me back. That won't help me with monthly reports.
I could fight insolence with insolence and turn surly, obnoxious, rude, and unhelpful, but I don't know if he'd get the message, and it would put me in a dark place I'd rather not go.
I could throw my monitor around the office. That would either get me fired (subconscious flight response?) or company sponsored counselling (hello, blogging?), and still no closer to understanding my job.
Then there's deliberately not doing any work, forcing my manager or Insolent Bob to take care of my responsibilities, plus their own.
That won't work either. Part of their own responsibilities is making sure I can handle mine, and we all know that they haven't accomplished that.
I'm going to end this post here, because I can't think of a morale, and because I'm getting hungry.
If I don't come back I guess we can put this question to rest.
-t
recommended download:
Bizet, Overture from Carmen
And I hate to think that about myself. "Coward" isn't something anyone wants to be, but here I am: When the going gets tough; Run.
Or, at least that's the conclusion I've come to based upon these last few days at work. All I want to do is get out. Gone, baby, gone. I could pick up my jacket, pick up my bag, and never look back. Yesterday almost featured an indefinite lunch break.
I've been faced with irrational expectations since my first manager quit. My coworkers, as far as I can understand, are operating under the assumption that as long as they know something, I must know it too.
The pressure builds up until a day or two before the monthly reporting is due. All of a sudden, from nowhere, I'm told to accomplish tasks I don't understand. As difficult as it may be, I try and struggle through it, even going so far as to blindly strike keys and hope for the best.
All it would take is a litte oversight. I'm sure that Insolent Bob could stand over my shoulder and say "No, that's not right. This type of security has to be booked on the foreign cash account, not the USD cash account. It's not usually a big deal because we only see about one or two of these a month, but, there's an easy way to tell. Just look here at the last two letters of the security code. That will let you know which account to book it to."
That seems easy, right? A tip. Check the last two letters, and from then on I wouldn't be messing up trades or positions or cash because I'm booking a foreign trade to a local account. Teach a man to fish...
But Insolent Bob doesn't offer tips. He offers vague, often incoherent statements of disbelief from his desk two rows over.
"You mean you didn't run a position report and then check holdings foreign with a date of yesterday? Or why didn't you go settle all trades under rebook?"
And sometimes I want to scream. Or pick up my monitor and launch it across the office. Or combust. Spontaneously. That would teach these guys a lesson.
But, most times, or after the fire fades from my imagination a new idea grows. Pick up your coat. Walk out the door. Don't look back. Why the hell are you getting so worked up about this anyway? It's not like you care.
Though, it now seems that is not quite an instinctual flight response. That's actually more of a "fuck that noise" response.
Maybe I'm not a coward.
On the other hand, if I'm not a coward, if my instinct is not to flee, does that imply my instinct is to fight?
We're talking about base instincts here, the most animalistic, instantaneous response. If you've got time to think your way out of a situation it doesn't apply.
I imagine me, in a loincloth, somewhere in the Mesozoic, facing off with a giant tyrannosaurus, club in one hand, rock in the other. "What would I do?"
I think I'd run, banking on my top speed being greater than the great lizard's. Also, I'd try to climb up a mountain, because I'd probably be safe.
But maybe I could take him.
Here in the office I don't know if fight would serve me any better than it would against the T-Rex. I could punch Insolent Bob in the face, but that would just make him mad, and then he'd punch me back. That won't help me with monthly reports.
I could fight insolence with insolence and turn surly, obnoxious, rude, and unhelpful, but I don't know if he'd get the message, and it would put me in a dark place I'd rather not go.
I could throw my monitor around the office. That would either get me fired (subconscious flight response?) or company sponsored counselling (hello, blogging?), and still no closer to understanding my job.
Then there's deliberately not doing any work, forcing my manager or Insolent Bob to take care of my responsibilities, plus their own.
That won't work either. Part of their own responsibilities is making sure I can handle mine, and we all know that they haven't accomplished that.
I'm going to end this post here, because I can't think of a morale, and because I'm getting hungry.
If I don't come back I guess we can put this question to rest.
-t
recommended download:
Bizet, Overture from Carmen
Monday, October 30, 2006
Mission to Arrakis
Dune a reality? The only thing missing now is cloning, hallucinagenic spice, giant sandworms, a feudal system, the Butlerian Gihad, human computers, and a few millenia.
Am I right, folks, or am I right?
But seriously. If you haven't read Dune, you really should. It's the greatest science fiction story ever. Really. Best ever. You can buy one for cheap here, or I'll lend you my copy.
-t
Am I right, folks, or am I right?
But seriously. If you haven't read Dune, you really should. It's the greatest science fiction story ever. Really. Best ever. You can buy one for cheap here, or I'll lend you my copy.
-t
A Knock at the Door
You may be tempted, as you read the first few lines of what would have been, the first few lines of this post, to assume it is a Daylight Savings post. Right now, the first few lines, and a few after that, are a disclaimer about the first few lines of what follows them. (More confused that you were before you navigated over here, eh? All part of the game.)
So, I assure you it is not a Daylight Savings post.
And, Daylight Savings is a sham, I don't mind saying so, and I encourage all of you to ignore it. No more of this "Fall Back, Spring Forward" lemming-like march to the clocks. Disregard it, I say!
I would be disregarding it, as I'm telling you to, also, were it not for the fact that everyone else on the planet does set the clocks back. And you may think this has important implications a certain area of my life, most notably "Employment," but you would be wrong. The only reason I, too, follow the beat of the crazed daylight-saving drummer, is so I don't miss any good shows on TV.
So much, for the digression. On to the real post:
Ok. I lied. Not on to the post. Instead, I'm going to get coffee. I'm tired, and need it. I will explain why in the post, when I return...
I'm back. Medium coffee, plain bagel, toasted with cream cheese. "Work" is a place I go between meals.
So, the story:
Last night I stayed up until all hours of the morning rationalizing the time with "it's not really midnight, it's really only eleven o'clock. daylight savings is stupid. it doesn't even save daylight, it only makes it darker when you get out of work, which, really, would be the best time for it to be light out, you know?"
Which is when I found Iron Chef America (Battle Honey) on food network.
So, I was up until one o'clock, about, on a work night, plus the time it took me to get ready for bed, and actually fall asleep. In my head "I know it's only really midnight now, but you still have to get up in six hours, whether the alarm clock reads six o'clock or seven o'clock."
So I woke up an hour before my alarm. Wide awake. Bushy-tailed, read to go. I was amazed.
So, I took my time getting ready. Watched some SportsCenter. Hung out. At eight fifteen there was a knock on my door. "Come in," I called.
It was Danny, a high school sophmore, bleary-eyed and rumpled, he looked desperate. "Tommy, can you give me a ride to school?! I'm late."
HA. So, just as you were expecting my story to end with "I overslept because DST is stupid" it ended with "My brother overslept because DST is stupid!"
How's that for a twist?
Now I'm going to go back and enjoy my coffee and bagel, which I didn't have time for this morning, because I was driving my brother to school, and you can go back to thinking it's ten fifteen, when we all know that it's actually eleven fifteen.
Stupid pilgrims.
-t
So, I assure you it is not a Daylight Savings post.
And, Daylight Savings is a sham, I don't mind saying so, and I encourage all of you to ignore it. No more of this "Fall Back, Spring Forward" lemming-like march to the clocks. Disregard it, I say!
I would be disregarding it, as I'm telling you to, also, were it not for the fact that everyone else on the planet does set the clocks back. And you may think this has important implications a certain area of my life, most notably "Employment," but you would be wrong. The only reason I, too, follow the beat of the crazed daylight-saving drummer, is so I don't miss any good shows on TV.
So much, for the digression. On to the real post:
Ok. I lied. Not on to the post. Instead, I'm going to get coffee. I'm tired, and need it. I will explain why in the post, when I return...
I'm back. Medium coffee, plain bagel, toasted with cream cheese. "Work" is a place I go between meals.
So, the story:
Last night I stayed up until all hours of the morning rationalizing the time with "it's not really midnight, it's really only eleven o'clock. daylight savings is stupid. it doesn't even save daylight, it only makes it darker when you get out of work, which, really, would be the best time for it to be light out, you know?"
Which is when I found Iron Chef America (Battle Honey) on food network.
So, I was up until one o'clock, about, on a work night, plus the time it took me to get ready for bed, and actually fall asleep. In my head "I know it's only really midnight now, but you still have to get up in six hours, whether the alarm clock reads six o'clock or seven o'clock."
So I woke up an hour before my alarm. Wide awake. Bushy-tailed, read to go. I was amazed.
So, I took my time getting ready. Watched some SportsCenter. Hung out. At eight fifteen there was a knock on my door. "Come in," I called.
It was Danny, a high school sophmore, bleary-eyed and rumpled, he looked desperate. "Tommy, can you give me a ride to school?! I'm late."
HA. So, just as you were expecting my story to end with "I overslept because DST is stupid" it ended with "My brother overslept because DST is stupid!"
How's that for a twist?
Now I'm going to go back and enjoy my coffee and bagel, which I didn't have time for this morning, because I was driving my brother to school, and you can go back to thinking it's ten fifteen, when we all know that it's actually eleven fifteen.
Stupid pilgrims.
-t
Friday, October 27, 2006
All fun and games...
I'd like to take a moment to be serious here.
Ok. That was it. The moment is gone. Seriousness has no place here, unless of course, if we're talking about a frivolous subject seriously. (As in: Would Destro actually be a better commander of Cobra's forces than their own Cobra Commander) (and for you advertising/marketing fans out there please, please tell me there's a letter or email out there somewhere castigating those Hasbro guys for coming up with that name for the character) (on the other hand, it worked - everybody knows which character I'm talking about.)
Anyway. The point: This is the place frivolity should come to frolic. (Except on the days I'm complaining about work. Frivolity should probably stay away when I'm in one of those "dark moods," lest I accidentally throw something heavy in its general direction and do ... serious... damage.)
So, to those of you who hate your jobs and come here because you like the "I hate my job" posts, I commiserate.
To those of you who hate those posts and are here for the inane ones, I celebrate. "goofy" is just another word for "cool." (I'm serious. Haven't you seen either of the Goofy Movies? Or Goof Troop? That was a pretty good show. It didn't hurt to be on in the same programming block as the Disney blockbusters Darkwing Duck and Tailspin, that's for sure.)
And to the rest of you, who hate both kinds of posts and are just here to use my links bar, fine. Leave your money on the dresser on your way out.
(oh, seriously, though? if any of you want to give me some money? that would be great.)
-t
Ok. That was it. The moment is gone. Seriousness has no place here, unless of course, if we're talking about a frivolous subject seriously. (As in: Would Destro actually be a better commander of Cobra's forces than their own Cobra Commander) (and for you advertising/marketing fans out there please, please tell me there's a letter or email out there somewhere castigating those Hasbro guys for coming up with that name for the character) (on the other hand, it worked - everybody knows which character I'm talking about.)
Anyway. The point: This is the place frivolity should come to frolic. (Except on the days I'm complaining about work. Frivolity should probably stay away when I'm in one of those "dark moods," lest I accidentally throw something heavy in its general direction and do ... serious... damage.)
So, to those of you who hate your jobs and come here because you like the "I hate my job" posts, I commiserate.
To those of you who hate those posts and are here for the inane ones, I celebrate. "goofy" is just another word for "cool." (I'm serious. Haven't you seen either of the Goofy Movies? Or Goof Troop? That was a pretty good show. It didn't hurt to be on in the same programming block as the Disney blockbusters Darkwing Duck and Tailspin, that's for sure.)
And to the rest of you, who hate both kinds of posts and are just here to use my links bar, fine. Leave your money on the dresser on your way out.
(oh, seriously, though? if any of you want to give me some money? that would be great.)
-t
Managerial Oversight; Lack thereof
Let's talk about what it takes to manage well.
Well, we could talk about opening a Word document, walking to the printer, then realizing, halfway there, that you didn't click "print." We could talk about any of the three times I tried to do this already today.
But we won't. We will talk about managers. Also, you have to promise not to use words like "synergy." It's not a word. And it's stupid.
Oh, and if anyone says "outside the box" I'm going to bop them one in the nose.
I was hired to process numbers for mutual funds. In the interview it was made very clear that I would be trained to do just that. Training was promised - therefore, and perhaps unreasonably, training was expected.
I wasn't trained. Not in the slightest. I learned, my first day, how to log into the system, and how to book a trade. That's it. I have not been trained on anything since then. At all. Ever. No training. Zip.
Now. That is mainly the fault of Insolent Bob, my coworker, and senior employee. It fell to him to train "the new guy" (me). Bob is a horrible trainer. Awful. Worst-ever.
But, we're talking about managers. Bad ones.
A good manager would probably do the following:
Check in with the new employee every day for the first week/two weeks/month to ask what the new employee had learned that day, to ask if the new employee had any questions about what he had been shown, and answer those questions.
A badmanager, or lazy manager, would.... do nothing. He'd stay in his cubicle all day while the new employee was being non-trained, and then go home for the night without talking to the new employee - ever.
Much of the near-constant frustration I feel is a direct result of not knowing how to do my job, which is itself a direct result of not receiving the proper (or any) training.
Now. I am not one to sit back and be frustrated, if I can help it. So, when I realized my trainer was a moron, and insolent, and that my manager was not going to come to me to follow up, I tried appealing to him directly for help and training.
A good manager would have trained me, or assigned me to another trainer who wasn't insolent.
A bad manager would suck on his teeth (a la everybody's favorite manager Bill Lumberg) and say "Ooh, um, yeah. I, uh, don't really deal with this fund...on a... day-to-day...basis... So, um, I... yeah, you should just ask Bob... about that..."
W.T.F. mate. W.T.F.
After months of this a bad manager would critique the work I've been (not-)doing while offering no help or clarification. He would stop by my cubicle after four months and say "Did you do the expense billing for last month on any of your funds?" to which I would reply "No. I still haven't been shown expense billing. I know how to take the numbers from this spreadsheet and move them to that spreadsheet. and that's it."
To which he would respond with. "Ok. Well, those expenses have to get done by this afternoon."
Then. After six months. When the nightmare client comes in to talk about how we're (mis)handling their fund, a good manager would take five minutes the day before the meeting and ask his employees if there's anything in particular they think he should bring up at the meeting. He would also, at that time, provide an itinerary for the meeting, outline what he expects to happen, and describe the expected outcome.
A bad manager would send an email reminder when the clients show up in the lobby saying "Client meeting in two minutes"
During the meeting a good manager would raise his employees' concerns and defend those employees, rightfully or not, from the client's attacks.
A bad manager would start bickering with the client's second-in-command across the conference table about an email dispute the two of them had started two months ago. Why don't you guys just grow up? Behavior like this makes you look like kindergarteners who missed nap time.
After the client left, a good manager would do a quick review with his employees. The following day he would send out an email highlighting the important points covered in the client meeting and any steps that will be taken as a result.
After the client left, a bad manager would take off early, and the following day would act as though nothing had happened.
Which is exactly what happened.
-t
recommended download:
Three Doors Down, It's Not Me, Father's Son, Let Me Go, Landing In London
(or the entire "Seventeen Days" album)
Well, we could talk about opening a Word document, walking to the printer, then realizing, halfway there, that you didn't click "print." We could talk about any of the three times I tried to do this already today.
But we won't. We will talk about managers. Also, you have to promise not to use words like "synergy." It's not a word. And it's stupid.
Oh, and if anyone says "outside the box" I'm going to bop them one in the nose.
I was hired to process numbers for mutual funds. In the interview it was made very clear that I would be trained to do just that. Training was promised - therefore, and perhaps unreasonably, training was expected.
I wasn't trained. Not in the slightest. I learned, my first day, how to log into the system, and how to book a trade. That's it. I have not been trained on anything since then. At all. Ever. No training. Zip.
Now. That is mainly the fault of Insolent Bob, my coworker, and senior employee. It fell to him to train "the new guy" (me). Bob is a horrible trainer. Awful. Worst-ever.
But, we're talking about managers. Bad ones.
A good manager would probably do the following:
Check in with the new employee every day for the first week/two weeks/month to ask what the new employee had learned that day, to ask if the new employee had any questions about what he had been shown, and answer those questions.
A badmanager, or lazy manager, would.... do nothing. He'd stay in his cubicle all day while the new employee was being non-trained, and then go home for the night without talking to the new employee - ever.
Much of the near-constant frustration I feel is a direct result of not knowing how to do my job, which is itself a direct result of not receiving the proper (or any) training.
Now. I am not one to sit back and be frustrated, if I can help it. So, when I realized my trainer was a moron, and insolent, and that my manager was not going to come to me to follow up, I tried appealing to him directly for help and training.
A good manager would have trained me, or assigned me to another trainer who wasn't insolent.
A bad manager would suck on his teeth (a la everybody's favorite manager Bill Lumberg) and say "Ooh, um, yeah. I, uh, don't really deal with this fund...on a... day-to-day...basis... So, um, I... yeah, you should just ask Bob... about that..."
W.T.F. mate. W.T.F.
After months of this a bad manager would critique the work I've been (not-)doing while offering no help or clarification. He would stop by my cubicle after four months and say "Did you do the expense billing for last month on any of your funds?" to which I would reply "No. I still haven't been shown expense billing. I know how to take the numbers from this spreadsheet and move them to that spreadsheet. and that's it."
To which he would respond with. "Ok. Well, those expenses have to get done by this afternoon."
Then. After six months. When the nightmare client comes in to talk about how we're (mis)handling their fund, a good manager would take five minutes the day before the meeting and ask his employees if there's anything in particular they think he should bring up at the meeting. He would also, at that time, provide an itinerary for the meeting, outline what he expects to happen, and describe the expected outcome.
A bad manager would send an email reminder when the clients show up in the lobby saying "Client meeting in two minutes"
During the meeting a good manager would raise his employees' concerns and defend those employees, rightfully or not, from the client's attacks.
A bad manager would start bickering with the client's second-in-command across the conference table about an email dispute the two of them had started two months ago. Why don't you guys just grow up? Behavior like this makes you look like kindergarteners who missed nap time.
After the client left, a good manager would do a quick review with his employees. The following day he would send out an email highlighting the important points covered in the client meeting and any steps that will be taken as a result.
After the client left, a bad manager would take off early, and the following day would act as though nothing had happened.
Which is exactly what happened.
-t
recommended download:
Three Doors Down, It's Not Me, Father's Son, Let Me Go, Landing In London
(or the entire "Seventeen Days" album)
Wednesday, October 25, 2006
Am I the Nautilus, or am I the Giant Squid?
When I come in to work in the morning I open gmail and my RSS reader as soon as I sit down at my computer. I don't do any real work until early afternoon (at the earliest).
I spend the morning hours reading blogs, occasionally chatting, occasionally posting.
But these are all stall tactics. I realized this morning what I'm stalling for:
What I'm really doing in the morning hours is waiting for someone to come by and tell me I've made a mistake.
Let that sink in. I spend at least three hours at the start of my day, everyday, waiting for my lazy manager or insolent Bob to tell me I did something wrong.
Because I know I have. I'm pretty sure I've done a lot of things wrong. I'm absolutely sure that I have not done a number of things I should have done.
And I assumed that supervisors and managers would review my work to catch any mistakes I'd made, then review procedures with me to correct mistakes and prevent future occurences.
So, right now, in these morning hours, when I expect to be confronted with my mistakes, how about you readers try and spot one I've made?
Ok, you don't have to. It's right there. A few lines up. In red.
It seems the modus operandi around here is "do nothing, review nothing, leave everyone alone." Mistakes aren't caught daily because no one's looking. No reviews. Nothing.
Then at month-end I have two or three people saying things like "Well, did you accrue the management fee?" and "Did you book the admin fee when it was billed?" and "Did you book these trades?"
The answer, usually, is "No." Sometimes I can answer with "Yeah, I thought I did. How do I check?"
I think the three important steps are:
1. Knowing what you're supposed to do/when you're supposed to do it.
2. Knowing how to do it.
3. Knowing how to check that it was done correctly.
I understand point #2 about half the time. But for #1, 3? I'm at a loss. Perpetually.
So, here I sit, this Wednesday morning, waiting for someone to tell me what I've done wrong.
I don't do anything because (point #1) I don't know when I'm supposed to do something, or what that something might be.
I can't catch my own mistakes, that I'm sure I've made, because (#3) I don't know how to check.
I'm forced, from time to time, to send questing emails to Insolent Bob and my lazy manager. "I just booked this trade. I don't know if I did it right. Can you check it?" It's two-to-one they respond.
The depth of futility can be measured in leagues.
I've lost that sense of frustration though. For a short while it was despair, but now, now it's apathy.
This afternoon I'll start work on the few trivial things I can do. Until then it's reading, posting, and chatting.
But, really, it's waiting.
-t
recommended download:
Tenacious D, Tribute
Theme, I Dream Of Genie
and
Janis Joplin, Mercedes Benz
I spend the morning hours reading blogs, occasionally chatting, occasionally posting.
But these are all stall tactics. I realized this morning what I'm stalling for:
What I'm really doing in the morning hours is waiting for someone to come by and tell me I've made a mistake.
Let that sink in. I spend at least three hours at the start of my day, everyday, waiting for my lazy manager or insolent Bob to tell me I did something wrong.
Because I know I have. I'm pretty sure I've done a lot of things wrong. I'm absolutely sure that I have not done a number of things I should have done.
And I assumed that supervisors and managers would review my work to catch any mistakes I'd made, then review procedures with me to correct mistakes and prevent future occurences.
So, right now, in these morning hours, when I expect to be confronted with my mistakes, how about you readers try and spot one I've made?
Ok, you don't have to. It's right there. A few lines up. In red.
It seems the modus operandi around here is "do nothing, review nothing, leave everyone alone." Mistakes aren't caught daily because no one's looking. No reviews. Nothing.
Then at month-end I have two or three people saying things like "Well, did you accrue the management fee?" and "Did you book the admin fee when it was billed?" and "Did you book these trades?"
The answer, usually, is "No." Sometimes I can answer with "Yeah, I thought I did. How do I check?"
I think the three important steps are:
1. Knowing what you're supposed to do/when you're supposed to do it.
2. Knowing how to do it.
3. Knowing how to check that it was done correctly.
I understand point #2 about half the time. But for #1, 3? I'm at a loss. Perpetually.
So, here I sit, this Wednesday morning, waiting for someone to tell me what I've done wrong.
I don't do anything because (point #1) I don't know when I'm supposed to do something, or what that something might be.
I can't catch my own mistakes, that I'm sure I've made, because (#3) I don't know how to check.
I'm forced, from time to time, to send questing emails to Insolent Bob and my lazy manager. "I just booked this trade. I don't know if I did it right. Can you check it?" It's two-to-one they respond.
The depth of futility can be measured in leagues.
I've lost that sense of frustration though. For a short while it was despair, but now, now it's apathy.
This afternoon I'll start work on the few trivial things I can do. Until then it's reading, posting, and chatting.
But, really, it's waiting.
-t
recommended download:
Tenacious D, Tribute
Theme, I Dream Of Genie
and
Janis Joplin, Mercedes Benz
Tuesday, October 24, 2006
If ignorance is bliss, then I'm sure they're both very happy
Overheard between Buffalo, and Insolent Manager:
"...I've never met a nurse that's in love with her job."
"I dated one."
"They're not treated well. Doctors shit on them, families shit on them, they're basically servants. Well-educated servants. They have an education and have to wipe up shit all day."
"Well, nah, they can get a masters degree, and then they can give out medications. Prescriptions."
"Oh. Really?"
"Yeah, because they take the place of a doctor."
How does this happen?
"...I've never met a nurse that's in love with her job."
"I dated one."
"They're not treated well. Doctors shit on them, families shit on them, they're basically servants. Well-educated servants. They have an education and have to wipe up shit all day."
"Well, nah, they can get a masters degree, and then they can give out medications. Prescriptions."
"Oh. Really?"
"Yeah, because they take the place of a doctor."
How does this happen?
Monday, October 23, 2006
Make New Links, and Keep the Old...
Ok, here is the deal. I have updated the sidebar links to include stuff I've been reading lately. I will be attempting, in the coming months, to keep it up-to-date.
Also, since the "break down" of the links is important to some of you (I won't mention any names) (but you know who you are) (and should be ashamed of yourselves) (for endorsing link segregation) (for shame), the breakdown is as follows:
News & Reference - contains things that are updated on a daily (or in a few cases semi-regular-) basis that feature either news items (bostonist), interesting references and links (kottke, boingboing), or pictures (ephemera, explodingdog, APOD (which is great)).
In Boston - contains links to blogs written or maintained by people currently living in or near Boston. Many of the folks I met at Blogtoberfest have been added to this section
Not In Boston - contains links to blogs written or maintained by people currently living someplace that isn't Boston. Many of these people once attended school with me (brassicaput, mrs. anonymous, amazo) and have moved away, many others are "famous" (mightygirl, defective yeti), and one of them is my girlfriend (acaffeinatedplace).
On Notice - contains links to blogs that I'm on the fence about. Things I used to like but have begun to decline, things I've started to read but aren't yet convinced I should be investing ten seconds a day into, things I really don't like, but keep the links around for propriety, or for those of my readers that do like them.
Hope that helps. And finally, there's a pretty interesting comment thread on the Use It Toni-i-i-i-ight Post, just a few posts below this one.
-t
recommended download:
The Shirelles, Mama Said There'd Be Days Like This
Also, since the "break down" of the links is important to some of you (I won't mention any names) (but you know who you are) (and should be ashamed of yourselves) (for endorsing link segregation) (for shame), the breakdown is as follows:
News & Reference - contains things that are updated on a daily (or in a few cases semi-regular-) basis that feature either news items (bostonist), interesting references and links (kottke, boingboing), or pictures (ephemera, explodingdog, APOD (which is great)).
In Boston - contains links to blogs written or maintained by people currently living in or near Boston. Many of the folks I met at Blogtoberfest have been added to this section
Not In Boston - contains links to blogs written or maintained by people currently living someplace that isn't Boston. Many of these people once attended school with me (brassicaput, mrs. anonymous, amazo) and have moved away, many others are "famous" (mightygirl, defective yeti), and one of them is my girlfriend (acaffeinatedplace).
On Notice - contains links to blogs that I'm on the fence about. Things I used to like but have begun to decline, things I've started to read but aren't yet convinced I should be investing ten seconds a day into, things I really don't like, but keep the links around for propriety, or for those of my readers that do like them.
Hope that helps. And finally, there's a pretty interesting comment thread on the Use It Toni-i-i-i-ight Post, just a few posts below this one.
-t
recommended download:
The Shirelles, Mama Said There'd Be Days Like This
A Sense of the Infinite
I have no desire to do work today. This is an entirely recent development.
I woke up early, four minutes before my alarm, invigorated, and ready to start the day. I know you've been there sometime. That extra four minutes seems like the window to the universe. You can do anything in that small moment. Small increments of time stretch to encompass all time, forever. Inifinity exists in the pre-alarm time. It's a wonderful thing to experience.
So, I got up to take a shower, turned on the water, stepped in, and that's where things went horribly wrong.
I mean for my enthusiasm. Not my physical person.
I don't know exactly what happened to damp down, and stamp out my energy, but something did. It may have been the temperature of the water...too hot, not hot enough, exactly the right temperature to sap strength and vigor; it may have been my shampoo; soap- who knows?
Maybe it was SportsCenter. I watched about ten minutes before leaving for work. It was the normal football wrap-up. I'm pretty sure it wasn't SportsCenter.
The train ride? The music I was listening to on the train? The book I was reading?
I can only say for certain that right now, at this moment, I have no desire to work, at all, ever.
Which, at this place, really doesn't mean much at all. Now all I'm doing is trying to decide between a two-hour coffee break to finish my book, or searching the web for advanced lock-picking techniques. You never know when they might come in handy.
-t
recommended download:
Neil Young, Needle and the Damage Done
Foreigner, Jukebox Heroe
I woke up early, four minutes before my alarm, invigorated, and ready to start the day. I know you've been there sometime. That extra four minutes seems like the window to the universe. You can do anything in that small moment. Small increments of time stretch to encompass all time, forever. Inifinity exists in the pre-alarm time. It's a wonderful thing to experience.
So, I got up to take a shower, turned on the water, stepped in, and that's where things went horribly wrong.
I mean for my enthusiasm. Not my physical person.
I don't know exactly what happened to damp down, and stamp out my energy, but something did. It may have been the temperature of the water...too hot, not hot enough, exactly the right temperature to sap strength and vigor; it may have been my shampoo; soap- who knows?
Maybe it was SportsCenter. I watched about ten minutes before leaving for work. It was the normal football wrap-up. I'm pretty sure it wasn't SportsCenter.
The train ride? The music I was listening to on the train? The book I was reading?
I can only say for certain that right now, at this moment, I have no desire to work, at all, ever.
Which, at this place, really doesn't mean much at all. Now all I'm doing is trying to decide between a two-hour coffee break to finish my book, or searching the web for advanced lock-picking techniques. You never know when they might come in handy.
-t
recommended download:
Neil Young, Needle and the Damage Done
Foreigner, Jukebox Heroe
Friday, October 20, 2006
Use It Toni-i-i-i-i-i-ght!
Gin is still leeching from my pores. Blech.
Who was it that invented the martini? Who was it that invented gin, for that matter? I'd like to punch the lot of them in the mouth, and then steal their gin-making recipe.
I started with the martini. It was awful. I was disgusted. That is a taste I will choose not to acquire. I chased it with seven Jacks & Coke.
And the gin is still leeching from my pores.
Also I am slightly hungover. Just enough that right after I'd showered this morning I couldn't remember if I had showered already.
Which isn't that bad. I get the same way after a sugar bender: Loss of short-term memory, papery tongue, gin leeching.
Oh, wait, no. The gin leeching is from the martini. Blech!
Well, if you've slogged through that, here are some thoughts on the BLOG! party, aka Blogtoberfest:
I really expected there to be about six people who were cool, and forty people who...definitely were not.
But, as it turns out, there were like thirty cool people (and loads of people over thirty! haha! Hey, old folks!) some, but not all, of the cool people were:
Jenny took pictures and I was warned away twice from touching her camera because "It's her baby. If you dropped it, she would, like, kill you, seriously."
No worries though. I spent four years in a photo shop, I've handled tons of photo equipment, also, I'm a homosapien and come with the standard fine motor skills and hand-eye-coordination. And at that point I'd only had two drinks.
Sarah was way taller than anyone had guessed. Erin was way shorter than I had guessed. Both were very cool and funny, though I'm pretty sure Erin was at no point during the night either chain-smoking or vomitting on the sidewalk.
Maybe it happened, though, I left at 10:30.
Oh, and, I got home just, in, time, to see the bottom of the ninth inning of the Mets/Cards game. WHAT A PITCH! It was awesome. Also, yeah, that sucks for everyone who would have had the day off today because their boss happens to root for the Mets - because you're probably at work right now while you're reading this.
Nathan was pretty cool, though I certainly don't come off as such based on the description he gave me on his blog. "Work and Fantasy Football?" No one says you have to accurately report what happened last night! I was going to say that Nathan is a career spy for the CIA. Oh, also, Erin was totally puking behind the bar while simultaneously chain-smoking, and taking straight vodka through an intravenous line. And Jenny and Sarah totally made out. Also Hooker shaved his head, right there at the bar. Man what a crazy night. Then there were ninjas.
Ok, maybe Jane (a real-life journalist) might be a stickler for accurate reporting, on the other hand, Hunter Thompson wasn't always accurate, and he founded an entire branch of journalism! (Gonzo Journalism) And at least two movies were written about him (Bill Murray,Where The Buffalo Roam; Johnny Depp, Fear And Loathing In Las Vegas)!
I'm forgetting people. After about five drinks (four? five?) I ended up at a table full of engineers. That was great. Electrical and Network. Oh, those crazy engineers. What stories. I really can't repeat them.
Ah, and I met some other cool people. Jaynie, and her bbffb (best-boy-friend-forever-buddy? who knows what abbreviations are out there nowadays?) one with a blog, both voracious commenters. Voracious is the wrong word. Prolific.
Also I met Hooker and Jon and exactly six other people who I thought were cool and have NO IDEA who they are. Time will tell, I expect. It's not that I'm bad with names or faces, it's just that I'm better with URLs.
Heads up everyone for the next Boston Bloggers Conference Festival of Blogging, we're thinking end of January, begining of February.
Be warned: It will be a flanel-themed party.
-t
recommended download:
Mission of Burma, Nicotine Bomb
and
The New Pornographers, The Slow Descent Into Alcoholism
Who was it that invented the martini? Who was it that invented gin, for that matter? I'd like to punch the lot of them in the mouth, and then steal their gin-making recipe.
I started with the martini. It was awful. I was disgusted. That is a taste I will choose not to acquire. I chased it with seven Jacks & Coke.
And the gin is still leeching from my pores.
Also I am slightly hungover. Just enough that right after I'd showered this morning I couldn't remember if I had showered already.
Which isn't that bad. I get the same way after a sugar bender: Loss of short-term memory, papery tongue, gin leeching.
Oh, wait, no. The gin leeching is from the martini. Blech!
Well, if you've slogged through that, here are some thoughts on the BLOG! party, aka Blogtoberfest:
I really expected there to be about six people who were cool, and forty people who...definitely were not.
But, as it turns out, there were like thirty cool people (and loads of people over thirty! haha! Hey, old folks!) some, but not all, of the cool people were:
Jenny took pictures and I was warned away twice from touching her camera because "It's her baby. If you dropped it, she would, like, kill you, seriously."
No worries though. I spent four years in a photo shop, I've handled tons of photo equipment, also, I'm a homosapien and come with the standard fine motor skills and hand-eye-coordination. And at that point I'd only had two drinks.
Sarah was way taller than anyone had guessed. Erin was way shorter than I had guessed. Both were very cool and funny, though I'm pretty sure Erin was at no point during the night either chain-smoking or vomitting on the sidewalk.
Maybe it happened, though, I left at 10:30.
Oh, and, I got home just, in, time, to see the bottom of the ninth inning of the Mets/Cards game. WHAT A PITCH! It was awesome. Also, yeah, that sucks for everyone who would have had the day off today because their boss happens to root for the Mets - because you're probably at work right now while you're reading this.
Nathan was pretty cool, though I certainly don't come off as such based on the description he gave me on his blog. "Work and Fantasy Football?" No one says you have to accurately report what happened last night! I was going to say that Nathan is a career spy for the CIA. Oh, also, Erin was totally puking behind the bar while simultaneously chain-smoking, and taking straight vodka through an intravenous line. And Jenny and Sarah totally made out. Also Hooker shaved his head, right there at the bar. Man what a crazy night. Then there were ninjas.
Ok, maybe Jane (a real-life journalist) might be a stickler for accurate reporting, on the other hand, Hunter Thompson wasn't always accurate, and he founded an entire branch of journalism! (Gonzo Journalism) And at least two movies were written about him (Bill Murray,Where The Buffalo Roam; Johnny Depp, Fear And Loathing In Las Vegas)!
I'm forgetting people. After about five drinks (four? five?) I ended up at a table full of engineers. That was great. Electrical and Network. Oh, those crazy engineers. What stories. I really can't repeat them.
Ah, and I met some other cool people. Jaynie, and her bbffb (best-boy-friend-forever-buddy? who knows what abbreviations are out there nowadays?) one with a blog, both voracious commenters. Voracious is the wrong word. Prolific.
Also I met Hooker and Jon and exactly six other people who I thought were cool and have NO IDEA who they are. Time will tell, I expect. It's not that I'm bad with names or faces, it's just that I'm better with URLs.
Heads up everyone for the next Boston Bloggers Conference Festival of Blogging, we're thinking end of January, begining of February.
Be warned: It will be a flanel-themed party.
-t
recommended download:
Mission of Burma, Nicotine Bomb
and
The New Pornographers, The Slow Descent Into Alcoholism
I'm too drunk to blog
I'm too drunk to blog, if I met you tonight and you were cool, or thought I was cool (you know who I'm talkin' about ;) then leave me a comment, dudes. Because I definitely will not remember any of this when I wake up tomororw.
-t
-t
Thursday, October 19, 2006
Desire
It's 3:15 PM. Three hours and counting until the BLOG! party.
I'm seriously considering ditching work early and heading over to Blogtoberfest early to start drinking.
I'm on the fence right now, but one thing I'm sure of: It would absolutely increase my credibility with the other bloggers if I'm already hammered by the time they show up.
Am I right, or am I right?
-t
recommended download:
Queen, Breakthru
I'm seriously considering ditching work early and heading over to Blogtoberfest early to start drinking.
I'm on the fence right now, but one thing I'm sure of: It would absolutely increase my credibility with the other bloggers if I'm already hammered by the time they show up.
Am I right, or am I right?
-t
recommended download:
Queen, Breakthru
You know, for electricity...
Buffalo and Michael are talking about body fat, specifically tests to determine body fat percentage:
Buffalo: "How'd they do it to you?"
Michael: "They pinched my arm, and also put me in a water displacement tank."
Buffalo: "They've got cooler ways of doing it now."
Michael: "Really? Interesting."
Buffalo: "Yeah, they put these electroids on you and shoot electric current into you and it just goes into a machine."
Michael: "That was in high school. I think it was like four and a half percent... I was a long-distance runner."
Buffalo: "Yeah, I used to be heavy. I'd guess I'm at like 12 or 13 percent now, but at my fattest I was at like 23 percent."
Electroids. Really.
-t
Buffalo: "How'd they do it to you?"
Michael: "They pinched my arm, and also put me in a water displacement tank."
Buffalo: "They've got cooler ways of doing it now."
Michael: "Really? Interesting."
Buffalo: "Yeah, they put these electroids on you and shoot electric current into you and it just goes into a machine."
Michael: "That was in high school. I think it was like four and a half percent... I was a long-distance runner."
Buffalo: "Yeah, I used to be heavy. I'd guess I'm at like 12 or 13 percent now, but at my fattest I was at like 23 percent."
Electroids. Really.
-t
One and One and One is PHILONEY
One And One And One Is Three
So what do you do when you realize the Biggest New Year's Party Ever (PHILONYE 07) which you've been talking about since last year's Biggest New Year's Party Ever (BONYE 06) is going to be prohibitively expensive?
Do you call your friend in Philly who is the one that is the most excited about it?
Do you IM all the other friends involved to complain and air grievances?
Or do you post the issue for all to see in an underhanded and confrontational-less format like, say, your blog?
So, as I said, the problem with the Philadelphia On New Year's Eve 2007 is expense, and not something crazy like "personal differences," or "friends with strange body odors." My concern is blowing my annual travel budget on the very first day of the year.
I don't have any specifics, which makes it a little harder to plan for sure, but, in general:
1. Hotels are going for about $200 a night. Even if I spend the minimum amount of time in the city (one night) that's $200 bucks. And who want's to spend just one night?
2. Plane tickets are going for about $200. Staying one night (see above) would mean flying out on Dec. 31st and flying back on Jan. 1st. That also seems stupid.
3. I'm not going to drive because it'll be cold, snowy, gas and parking will be expensive, and I (hopefully) won't be in any condition to drive the whole time I'm there. Also, it would mean a long drive home, hungover on Jan. 1st, which I do not relish.
I don't want to plan a $400 trip that gets me twelve hours with the gang. That is a poorly spent $400. On the other hand, if I plan a trip for longer I'm just racking up the hotel bill, turning a $400 expense into a $600 or $800 expense.
Spread over the whole year that's three or four weak-long trips to different places.
So, unless somebody's dad owns a hotel in downtown Philly... this may be unfeasable. Which would, yeah, suck.
-t
Update: Donny said I should take the train to Philly. Why didn't I think of that? It's maybe doable, and if I had the money, you know, I could fly down every other weekend (I hear they have good cheesesteaks)
So what do you do when you realize the Biggest New Year's Party Ever (PHILONYE 07) which you've been talking about since last year's Biggest New Year's Party Ever (BONYE 06) is going to be prohibitively expensive?
Do you call your friend in Philly who is the one that is the most excited about it?
Do you IM all the other friends involved to complain and air grievances?
Or do you post the issue for all to see in an underhanded and confrontational-less format like, say, your blog?
So, as I said, the problem with the Philadelphia On New Year's Eve 2007 is expense, and not something crazy like "personal differences," or "friends with strange body odors." My concern is blowing my annual travel budget on the very first day of the year.
I don't have any specifics, which makes it a little harder to plan for sure, but, in general:
1. Hotels are going for about $200 a night. Even if I spend the minimum amount of time in the city (one night) that's $200 bucks. And who want's to spend just one night?
2. Plane tickets are going for about $200. Staying one night (see above) would mean flying out on Dec. 31st and flying back on Jan. 1st. That also seems stupid.
3. I'm not going to drive because it'll be cold, snowy, gas and parking will be expensive, and I (hopefully) won't be in any condition to drive the whole time I'm there. Also, it would mean a long drive home, hungover on Jan. 1st, which I do not relish.
I don't want to plan a $400 trip that gets me twelve hours with the gang. That is a poorly spent $400. On the other hand, if I plan a trip for longer I'm just racking up the hotel bill, turning a $400 expense into a $600 or $800 expense.
Spread over the whole year that's three or four weak-long trips to different places.
So, unless somebody's dad owns a hotel in downtown Philly... this may be unfeasable. Which would, yeah, suck.
-t
Update: Donny said I should take the train to Philly. Why didn't I think of that? It's maybe doable, and if I had the money, you know, I could fly down every other weekend (I hear they have good cheesesteaks)
Wednesday, October 18, 2006
Martini
Here's something to keep you all entertained. In honor of Blogtoberfest. It's the newest one up at intransitivity
-tgme
-tgme
Tuesday, October 17, 2006
Boston Blogtoberfest - Recapping a Future Event
I'm writing this on Tuesday October 17th. The following is a recap of the Boston Blogtoberfest party which is scheduled for Thursday October 19th.
I spent all of last weekend learning how to blog from my phone in case I needed to send any live updates from the Boston Blogtoberfest party. I'll be updating throughout the night.
I spent all of last weekend learning how to blog from my phone in case I needed to send any live updates from the Boston Blogtoberfest party. I'll be updating throughout the night.
- I arrived late, but there are still a few people who haven't shown up yet. Sarah met me at the door and gave me a ridiculously gaudy nametag. I was sure they had been only joking about that. I ordered a martini and started putting blogs to faces. There's a guy on the other side of the room with a blinking LED nametag.
- Jenny, who is mostly responsible for throwing this thing together, just got up on the bar to make an announcement. Something about we're here to talk about blogs, and lots of other stuff. Don't sit in the corner with your PDAs. Her nametag is completely understated and almost professional. I have to find out who was responsible for the nametag construction.
- I'm three martinis in. I just met one of the guy's from Bostonist, Jon. I asked him why none of the editorial staff over there is actually a native of Boston. He didn't have a good answer. Then he started talking about Tom Selleck playing detective Jesse Stone from Robert B. Parker's Paradise books. Don't get me wrong, Tom Selleck's cool - but as Magnum P.I., not Jesse Stone. Besides, Robert Urich as Spenser was miles beyond Selleck in some stupid made for TV movie.
- Fiver martinis. The last two I flipped from gin martinis to vodka martinis... or the other way around? Anyway. Ordering whichever kind of drink at the bar I was right by a group of guys talking to Hooker about the logo for his bike gang. I told him if the gang was going to have such a girly name then the logo should have streamers. Probably pink and green ones. Because nobody uses streamers anymore. Ok, back in a few more drinks...
- Right. When I said I'd be right back I lied. I'm still on my fifth. After I said that thing about pink and greens streamers Erin (not erinire) grabbed my shoulder to introduce herself. "You said 'pink and green streamers' and my blog is 'Pink and Green Girl'! Funny, right?" So she dragged me over to a "favorite music" conversation she was having with Dave who I was tempted to refer to as "Old Dave" except for the other one, David.
- Jenny and Sarah are both live blogging from the party. Jenny's over near the bar and Sarah is sitting at a table at almost the complete opposite end of the room. Somebody's looking over Jenny's shoulder telling her what to write.
- Ok. I had to close my phone browser to check what the girls are posting. The girl dictating to Jenny is Erin (erinire) and she's making fun of people's outfits. They haven't seen me yet (there wasn't any mention of flanel). Sarah is blogging about the food and some guy who was hitting on her.
- I'm starting to pay more attention to the rest of the group, a couple people are checking their cell phones. It won't be long until someone figures out there are some blogs being updated.
- Got it! One of the girls I haven't met just gave the heads up to Jenny. It might have been Krista or maybe Lori, anyway. Jenny's punching keys like crazy right now. I'll give you three to one the only reason she's not on her laptop is because there's no wifi signal way back here.
- Sarah noticed. She's walking over to the bar, drink in one hand, typing with the other.
- I keep logging out to check what they're posting. A lot of other people have started noticing. It's going back and forth in cyberspace, and a crowd has formed around the bloggers. This could be a sporting event. You can tell who the supporters are. There's a small group around Jenny and one around Sarah, and another group that's shifting back and forth. Most of them are online with their phones, a couple others are looking over shoulders and shouting out funny lines from the posts. I'd be hiding my head in shame, but it might make more sense to jump into the middle of the crowd. You know, hide in plain sight.
- This is both tragic and hilarious. It is also almost exactly like dueling banjoes or a trip to a piano bar. I'm shouting out requests like "Post about the bartender! Hot or not!" Later I'm going to try and provoke some people "Who's the coolest person you met tonight?!" and other questions of that ilk. But first... another drink!
- Ok. That ended in some hysterical laughter and a big hug. The dueling bloggers, I mean, not my last drink. Ok. I'm going to put my cell phone away. My eyes are starting to smart from the hunt-and-peck. Maybe next year the live-blogging will be a sanctioned event, I'll have to look into a qwerty keyboard.
'Til next time!
We'll see how it really goes. (And, no, I won't be wearing flanel)(Unless it's cold.)
-t
recommended download:
Mission of Burma, Nicotine Bomb
The One Hand Throws The Whiskey, And The Other Throws The Gun
I can hardly take the near-constant stream of Queen coming from Buffalo's desk.
I indulge the kid, too often, because he's the butt of most of the jokes, insults, jibes, and situational comedy that goes on here.
But there's no reason to listen to Janet Jackson, or to watch Duran Duran videos at max volume. There's no reason to whistle along with whatever crappy music you've got playing.
There's certainly no reason to be playing the same two Queen songs over and over and over on a Tuesday morning.
Don't get me wrong, I like Queen as much as the next guy, unless Buffalo is the next guy. There's no reason to play Somebody To Love seventeen times an hour.
The one admonishment we were given during our entrance interview was "The company internet policy, as written, is pretty strict, but we don't really enforce it. Nothing's really blocked. The only thing you absolutely cannot do is stream audio or video. No video."
I'm tempted to narc this kid out. I won't, because it's a prick move. I'll just throw on my iPod and crank the volume up until I can't hear anything anymore ever.
Then I'll go back to catching up on three days worth of reports I don't understand. At lunch I'm going to submit a new resume to monster.
-t
recommended download:
Three Doors Down, Landing In London, or, Father's Son
and, if you simply can't avoid Queen, try It's Late
I indulge the kid, too often, because he's the butt of most of the jokes, insults, jibes, and situational comedy that goes on here.
But there's no reason to listen to Janet Jackson, or to watch Duran Duran videos at max volume. There's no reason to whistle along with whatever crappy music you've got playing.
There's certainly no reason to be playing the same two Queen songs over and over and over on a Tuesday morning.
Don't get me wrong, I like Queen as much as the next guy, unless Buffalo is the next guy. There's no reason to play Somebody To Love seventeen times an hour.
The one admonishment we were given during our entrance interview was "The company internet policy, as written, is pretty strict, but we don't really enforce it. Nothing's really blocked. The only thing you absolutely cannot do is stream audio or video. No video."
I'm tempted to narc this kid out. I won't, because it's a prick move. I'll just throw on my iPod and crank the volume up until I can't hear anything anymore ever.
Then I'll go back to catching up on three days worth of reports I don't understand. At lunch I'm going to submit a new resume to monster.
-t
recommended download:
Three Doors Down, Landing In London, or, Father's Son
and, if you simply can't avoid Queen, try It's Late
Thursday, October 12, 2006
Faking It
I'm doing my best to feign sickness. I've asked twice for ibuprofen, complained about feeling cold and "feverish," I'm keeping my head down on my desk, and moving slowly, and only when necessary. Luckily, my nervousness is doing wonders for my fake shivering.
If they buy it, it means I'm home free (more precisely: vacation free). Hit the T to the airport by noon, back by Tuesday morning as if returned from the lip of the grave. "Had to stay out Monday because my doctor said I was still contagious. And believe me, I wouldn't wish what I had on any of you."
If they buy it I'm going to be "sick" every other weekend.
-t
Tuesday, October 10, 2006
Does this make sense to anyone?
To: me
From: Client (Marie)
Did that check request get sent to Ellen?
To: insolent guy
From: me
Mary wants to know if you sent the check request
To: me
From: insolent guy
Yes – tell her the date that it was sent form fax cover. Tell her you will resend and send an email to Ellen and also ask Marie to give a heads up to Ellen, because you are not certain that Ellen ever receives your emails cause she hasn’t responded to your requests in the past ( is this a true summarization). ??
what?
-t
Update:
As a fun exercise I decided to decipher the message within the gibberish. I imagine this is a lot like decoding the human genome:
Yes. I faxed the authorization to Ellen last Thursday. This email from Marie concerns me, however. It may indicate that Ellen did not receive my initial fax. Please fax another copy of the authorization to Ellen and ask her to confirm receipt via email. Also, I believe Ellen has had some problems receiving email from your account in the past, is this correct? To overcome this obstacle you might ask Marie to email Ellen in order to give her a "heads-up" on the incoming fax, explaining, of course, to Marie, the difficulties Ellen may be having receiving your emails. Allow me to summarize these details in a bulleted list, if I may -
From: Client (Marie)
Did that check request get sent to Ellen?
To: insolent guy
From: me
Mary wants to know if you sent the check request
To: me
From: insolent guy
Yes – tell her the date that it was sent form fax cover. Tell her you will resend and send an email to Ellen and also ask Marie to give a heads up to Ellen, because you are not certain that Ellen ever receives your emails cause she hasn’t responded to your requests in the past ( is this a true summarization). ??
what?
-t
Update:
As a fun exercise I decided to decipher the message within the gibberish. I imagine this is a lot like decoding the human genome:
Yes. I faxed the authorization to Ellen last Thursday. This email from Marie concerns me, however. It may indicate that Ellen did not receive my initial fax. Please fax another copy of the authorization to Ellen and ask her to confirm receipt via email. Also, I believe Ellen has had some problems receiving email from your account in the past, is this correct? To overcome this obstacle you might ask Marie to email Ellen in order to give her a "heads-up" on the incoming fax, explaining, of course, to Marie, the difficulties Ellen may be having receiving your emails. Allow me to summarize these details in a bulleted list, if I may -
- The fax was sent last week.
- Resend the fax.
- Reply to Marie's email to inform her that you will resend the fax to Ellen.
- Via email, inform Ellen of the incoming fax, and ask her to confirm receipt of said fax.
- Again, via email, ask Marie to request a confirmation email from Ellen as well. - if you would like to combine these two emails to Marie in the interest of efficiency, you may, but you should in no way feel obligated to do so.
- Finally, if you have a moment today, you might think about contacting the information technology department in regard to the problems you may or may not be having with your email account.
Also, the only part of either email I actually needed was "Yes."
Hookey
Here's the plan:
I'd booked a flight out of Boston for Friday night at seven. I was going to leave work asap and hit the blue line to the airport. I'd scheduled my return flight for Monday at noon.
I'd planned on calling in sick Monday, then rolling in to work Tuesday looking hungover to complete the disguise (or, possibly, because I will be hungover Tuesday).
But
The day after I'd booked my tickets I learned that both my lazy manager and the insolent guy will be out of the office on Thursday and Friday. I called the airline to see if they could bump me to an earlier flight, maybe leaving early Friday insted of late.They offered me a flight for Thursday at three in the afternoon.
The question is this: Do I stick with my original plan, or
Leave work at lunch time Thursday, call in sick Friday and Monday, and roll into work looking hungover on Tuesday?
On the one hand, my manager won't know I'm gone Thursday or Friday, because he won't be here, and insolent guy won't be here to tell him.
On the other hand, I might be expected to approve reports or correspond with the client because I'll be the only one here.
But, back on the first hand, I've set up a rule to autoforward my work email to my gmail account so I could still, hypothetically, field client requests and at least respond with "I'll have to look at this Monday" (Knowing full well I won't be in Monday, but that my manager will be and he can look into it)
I'm flipping back and forth, but basically, less work, is good work.
-t
I'd booked a flight out of Boston for Friday night at seven. I was going to leave work asap and hit the blue line to the airport. I'd scheduled my return flight for Monday at noon.
I'd planned on calling in sick Monday, then rolling in to work Tuesday looking hungover to complete the disguise (or, possibly, because I will be hungover Tuesday).
But
The day after I'd booked my tickets I learned that both my lazy manager and the insolent guy will be out of the office on Thursday and Friday. I called the airline to see if they could bump me to an earlier flight, maybe leaving early Friday insted of late.They offered me a flight for Thursday at three in the afternoon.
The question is this: Do I stick with my original plan, or
Leave work at lunch time Thursday, call in sick Friday and Monday, and roll into work looking hungover on Tuesday?
On the one hand, my manager won't know I'm gone Thursday or Friday, because he won't be here, and insolent guy won't be here to tell him.
On the other hand, I might be expected to approve reports or correspond with the client because I'll be the only one here.
But, back on the first hand, I've set up a rule to autoforward my work email to my gmail account so I could still, hypothetically, field client requests and at least respond with "I'll have to look at this Monday" (Knowing full well I won't be in Monday, but that my manager will be and he can look into it)
I'm flipping back and forth, but basically, less work, is good work.
-t
Monday, October 09, 2006
Detroit, Detroit
I was going to write a post about how much I love baseball, and how the best performances appear in the playoffs.
But really, what I'd rather say is:
Ha-ha! Ha-ha! Yankees lost! Ha-ha! Suck it, A-Rod!
Suck it also, Bug Unit, Steinbrenner, Johnny Damon, Mussina, Matsui, Sheffield, Giambi, and Jeter.
Congrats to the Detroit Tigers (who, you may remember, have been my pick to win the World Series since their season opening 40-games-over-.500 position, and what the hell happened to Shelton?). Kenny Rogers put up the most emotional pitching performance I've ever seen in the playoffs, and rightly so. He's been plagued with the Payton-Manning "Can't win the big one" stigma for a long time. It was totally exhilarating to watch him overcome the best lineup in baseball dominating over seven and two-thirds innings.
They had some clutch hitting (Ordonez), some help from the Yankees (A. Rodriguez at third, Giambi at first, Abreu in right), some calls went their way (I. Rodiriguez at third), some great defense (Monroe), incredible speed on the basepaths (Granderson), and great bullpen work (Jones).
They're still my pick to win the World Series, though the Oakland series might be tough. The A's have started playing like a contender.
ALCS: Detroit over Oakland in six.
NLCS: St. Louis over New York in seven.
WS: Detroit over St. Louis in six.
Go Tigers.
-t
recommended dowonload:
Matt Nathanson, Detroit Waves
But really, what I'd rather say is:
Ha-ha! Ha-ha! Yankees lost! Ha-ha! Suck it, A-Rod!
Suck it also, Bug Unit, Steinbrenner, Johnny Damon, Mussina, Matsui, Sheffield, Giambi, and Jeter.
Congrats to the Detroit Tigers (who, you may remember, have been my pick to win the World Series since their season opening 40-games-over-.500 position, and what the hell happened to Shelton?). Kenny Rogers put up the most emotional pitching performance I've ever seen in the playoffs, and rightly so. He's been plagued with the Payton-Manning "Can't win the big one" stigma for a long time. It was totally exhilarating to watch him overcome the best lineup in baseball dominating over seven and two-thirds innings.
They had some clutch hitting (Ordonez), some help from the Yankees (A. Rodriguez at third, Giambi at first, Abreu in right), some calls went their way (I. Rodiriguez at third), some great defense (Monroe), incredible speed on the basepaths (Granderson), and great bullpen work (Jones).
They're still my pick to win the World Series, though the Oakland series might be tough. The A's have started playing like a contender.
ALCS: Detroit over Oakland in six.
NLCS: St. Louis over New York in seven.
WS: Detroit over St. Louis in six.
Go Tigers.
-t
recommended dowonload:
Matt Nathanson, Detroit Waves
Saturday, October 07, 2006
A Short Multimedia Post
The pier at Santa Monica, and Pacific Ocean. Nice, eh?
Toni Braxton (Revealed)
Donny, excited about Toni Braxton.
A short video of Donny and Ray on vibrating chairs outside Brookstone.
-t
Friday, October 06, 2006
Snooze-d
I was going to write about how great work was yesterday (I did actual, real work, and finished a report one whole day early), and then how not-so-great it was at the end of the day (I waited until six-thirty for the VP to approve my report only to learn then that he had gone home for the day at five o'clock).
But instead, I'll write about my alarm clock not going off this morning.
My alarm clock didn't go off this morning. Don't panic. This has happened to me before. I'm sure it's happened to many of you as well. You wake up, realize you've overslept, throw on some clothes, grab a bagel on your way out the door, arrive at work half an hour late, explain about the alarm clock, feel harried until at least lunchtime, and then put it behind you.
Well, that's if you overshot your alarm clock by thirty minutes or so. Hit the snooze one too many times.
I normally wake up at seven forty-five. Today I woke up at eleven forty-five.
(That's four hours.)
Whoo-boy.
I didn't really believe it at first. My alarm read 11:45 AM exactly. Maybe I'd punched the "adjust hour" button instead of the "off" button. Maybe it was really 7:45 and my clock only read 11:45.
But, just in case, I'm not going to waste anytime lying in bed pondering. I jumped up and hit the shower, then threw on some clothes and flipped open my cell phone: 11:51 AM.
Ok. I was going to be a little late for work.
I grabbed my bag and flew out the door. I made my way to the T station and waited ten minutes for an inbound train.
It's cool. I'm late, you know? Strolling in at twelve-twenty isn't much different than strolling in at twelve-thirty, so I'm not going to kill myself. I'll get there when I get there.
I get here at twelve twenty-five. My lazy manager is standing near my desk with a couple other guys. "Did you have a training class this morning?" they asked. "Nope. Slept through my alarm. I woke up about half an hour ago" I replied.
"Why'd you say that?" you must be thinking. If they thought you were in class you're home free!
That's a good thought, and on any other day I would have gone that route, but, today is the first Friday of the month, and there are no classes that are offered during the first week of every month. I'd have no problem saying I'd attended a class that actually met, but I won't say I attended a class that was never even scheduled.
I have to draw the line somewhere.
Not that it was a big deal, the next thing my manager said was "Well, you didn't miss much."
Which I'd been counting on. So, I sat down and started saving down reports and thinking about how long I'd have to wait before I left for lunch...
-t
(btw, there are a bunch of new drawings up at intransitivity I put up on Wednesday, check 'em out)
But instead, I'll write about my alarm clock not going off this morning.
My alarm clock didn't go off this morning. Don't panic. This has happened to me before. I'm sure it's happened to many of you as well. You wake up, realize you've overslept, throw on some clothes, grab a bagel on your way out the door, arrive at work half an hour late, explain about the alarm clock, feel harried until at least lunchtime, and then put it behind you.
Well, that's if you overshot your alarm clock by thirty minutes or so. Hit the snooze one too many times.
I normally wake up at seven forty-five. Today I woke up at eleven forty-five.
(That's four hours.)
Whoo-boy.
I didn't really believe it at first. My alarm read 11:45 AM exactly. Maybe I'd punched the "adjust hour" button instead of the "off" button. Maybe it was really 7:45 and my clock only read 11:45.
But, just in case, I'm not going to waste anytime lying in bed pondering. I jumped up and hit the shower, then threw on some clothes and flipped open my cell phone: 11:51 AM.
Ok. I was going to be a little late for work.
I grabbed my bag and flew out the door. I made my way to the T station and waited ten minutes for an inbound train.
It's cool. I'm late, you know? Strolling in at twelve-twenty isn't much different than strolling in at twelve-thirty, so I'm not going to kill myself. I'll get there when I get there.
I get here at twelve twenty-five. My lazy manager is standing near my desk with a couple other guys. "Did you have a training class this morning?" they asked. "Nope. Slept through my alarm. I woke up about half an hour ago" I replied.
"Why'd you say that?" you must be thinking. If they thought you were in class you're home free!
That's a good thought, and on any other day I would have gone that route, but, today is the first Friday of the month, and there are no classes that are offered during the first week of every month. I'd have no problem saying I'd attended a class that actually met, but I won't say I attended a class that was never even scheduled.
I have to draw the line somewhere.
Not that it was a big deal, the next thing my manager said was "Well, you didn't miss much."
Which I'd been counting on. So, I sat down and started saving down reports and thinking about how long I'd have to wait before I left for lunch...
-t
(btw, there are a bunch of new drawings up at intransitivity I put up on Wednesday, check 'em out)
Wednesday, October 04, 2006
Yes, squid pro roe...
I try to help wherever I can, and I do so for entirely selfish reasons:
I've got a good job. I hate it, but the pay is good, there's plenty of room for promotion, and there's practically no distinction between hard work and no work.
Would you like a job here?
I am, right now, in a position to recommend, or at the very least refer, any of you to our hiring manager. I know that most people need money, and even a job you hate is better than no job, so I will do what I can to help you get a job.
Because I am totally banking on somebody (anonymous internet readers I'm including you in this too, so take note) striking it super successful and then getting me a cushy job.
I will help out whoever I can, with the hope, or understanding, that whoever could help me out would. I think it's a great policy.
Seriously. I'd do it if I were in a position of power. I'd hire everybody I knew. I'd pay for masters degrees, I would hook, you, up.
Because what goes around comes around, quid pro quo, back scratching, and all of that.
I'm just saying, it'd be nice if one of you would make it big sometime in the next week or so. Thanks.
-t
I've got a good job. I hate it, but the pay is good, there's plenty of room for promotion, and there's practically no distinction between hard work and no work.
Would you like a job here?
I am, right now, in a position to recommend, or at the very least refer, any of you to our hiring manager. I know that most people need money, and even a job you hate is better than no job, so I will do what I can to help you get a job.
Because I am totally banking on somebody (anonymous internet readers I'm including you in this too, so take note) striking it super successful and then getting me a cushy job.
I will help out whoever I can, with the hope, or understanding, that whoever could help me out would. I think it's a great policy.
Seriously. I'd do it if I were in a position of power. I'd hire everybody I knew. I'd pay for masters degrees, I would hook, you, up.
Because what goes around comes around, quid pro quo, back scratching, and all of that.
I'm just saying, it'd be nice if one of you would make it big sometime in the next week or so. Thanks.
-t
Slacking
Technical difficulties prevented me from booking two necessary trades yesterday. I'd been exchanging emails with the IT team for a week trying to get the issue resolved.
Also, we use SecurIDs here. Maybe you've seen them. Yesterday the ID I needed to login to the broker's website expired. Instead of flashing a random number it's flashing "OFF." We contacted the broker and they're going to FedEx an new one to us tomorrow.
So I've got to book trades and download reports. I'm totally unable to do either of those things. It's five fifteen. So I left.
Slacking? I guess you could look at it that way, if you define slacking as "anything less than over and above absolute maximum effort." I could have stayed an extra fifteen minutes and swept the floors, or cleaned out the floor refrigerator, would I have been slacking then?
Justifiable? Yes. I was getting nothing done sitting in the office, I could get the same nothing done not sitting in the office, and, in the second case, enjoyed it a lot more.
So I left. Fifteen minutes early. Today this was sitting in my mailbox, sent yesterday at 5:27 PM:
From: lazymanager@cantmanage.com
To: Tom@wontwork.com; Bob@insolentguy.com
Tom,
During month end please check in before leaving and see if there is anything that needs to be done. At some point you’ll need to sit with Bob and start learning his other fund. Keep in mind most of our funds are 5 day deliverables. If nothing else try and catch up your 10 day fund as most of us are working late during this week.
Bob when you have time try to make sure to at least show Tom a few things and maybe have him take some notes.
Thanks
Ok, a little commentary: I'd rather not check in before leaving just so you can give me some busy work. In fact, that's the whole reason I didn't check in before I left.
-I'd love to sit and learn a new fund, but Bob's been responsible for training me since day one and I STILL DON'T KNOW ANYTHING. He may be your go-to guy during month-end, but he doesn't have the ability to teach anyone anything.
-I'm not going to work on my Day 10 fund when my Day 5 funds aren't done yet. That's stupid. By the way, thanks for all the help on my Day 5 funds.
-How is Bob supposed to have time to show me anything if you've all got so much of your own work that you have to stay late all week?
-Your managerial skills suck.
He left a barely comprehensible post-it note on my monitor too: "Please look into these september trades + also rollforward your mkt rec, I don't see it so Im not sure how pricing + pos.can be done"
What? And, just so you know, the reason the "mktrec" hasn't been rolled forward is because I don't know what the hell that is! IT WOULD BE NICE IF SOMEBODY WOULD TRAIN ME TO DO THE JOB I WAS HIRED FOR, FOR CRYING OUT LOUD!
AUGH
-tgme
Also, we use SecurIDs here. Maybe you've seen them. Yesterday the ID I needed to login to the broker's website expired. Instead of flashing a random number it's flashing "OFF." We contacted the broker and they're going to FedEx an new one to us tomorrow.
So I've got to book trades and download reports. I'm totally unable to do either of those things. It's five fifteen. So I left.
Slacking? I guess you could look at it that way, if you define slacking as "anything less than over and above absolute maximum effort." I could have stayed an extra fifteen minutes and swept the floors, or cleaned out the floor refrigerator, would I have been slacking then?
Justifiable? Yes. I was getting nothing done sitting in the office, I could get the same nothing done not sitting in the office, and, in the second case, enjoyed it a lot more.
So I left. Fifteen minutes early. Today this was sitting in my mailbox, sent yesterday at 5:27 PM:
From: lazymanager@cantmanage.com
To: Tom@wontwork.com; Bob@insolentguy.com
Tom,
During month end please check in before leaving and see if there is anything that needs to be done. At some point you’ll need to sit with Bob and start learning his other fund. Keep in mind most of our funds are 5 day deliverables. If nothing else try and catch up your 10 day fund as most of us are working late during this week.
Bob when you have time try to make sure to at least show Tom a few things and maybe have him take some notes.
Thanks
Ok, a little commentary: I'd rather not check in before leaving just so you can give me some busy work. In fact, that's the whole reason I didn't check in before I left.
-I'd love to sit and learn a new fund, but Bob's been responsible for training me since day one and I STILL DON'T KNOW ANYTHING. He may be your go-to guy during month-end, but he doesn't have the ability to teach anyone anything.
-I'm not going to work on my Day 10 fund when my Day 5 funds aren't done yet. That's stupid. By the way, thanks for all the help on my Day 5 funds.
-How is Bob supposed to have time to show me anything if you've all got so much of your own work that you have to stay late all week?
-Your managerial skills suck.
He left a barely comprehensible post-it note on my monitor too: "Please look into these september trades + also rollforward your mkt rec, I don't see it so Im not sure how pricing + pos.can be done"
What? And, just so you know, the reason the "mktrec" hasn't been rolled forward is because I don't know what the hell that is! IT WOULD BE NICE IF SOMEBODY WOULD TRAIN ME TO DO THE JOB I WAS HIRED FOR, FOR CRYING OUT LOUD!
AUGH
-tgme
Tuesday, October 03, 2006
Frustratinger and frustratinger
wtf. They're back there throwing paper airplanes around. I think Iposted about this when I was still in my old job. This is not professional.
I like most of the people here who I don't work with directly. I hate most of the people here I do work with directly. One them is the lazy insolent guy. He is currently throwing airplanes at other people. He's also the guy that sprayed somebody in the face with an inverted can of compressed air (the kind that reads "DO NOT tilt, shake, or turn can upside down before or during use as liquid contents may be dispersed. Liquid contents may cause frostbite on contact with skin.)
That's not cool.
Unprofessional, possibly actionable behaviour in the office by coworkers, combined with unprofessional inaction outside the office by clients is driving me mad.
Last week I sat for eight hours waiting for an email from the client who simply refused to correspond with me via email. He sent a number of reports to my manager, and to the insolent guy, replied to their questions, but sent nothing to me, and replied to none of my questions. Not surprisingly, the information I had requested was necessary to complete the report he had asked me for. I grew so frustrated I came very close to ripping the monitor off my computer and hurling it across the office. Last week, however, I also learned my lazy manager is leaving at the end of November, so maybe I should stick it out a couple of months, see if the situation improves.
Who knows. In unrelated news my new iPod is nice. I've watched the Ok, Go treadmill video on it about a billion times since downloading it.
-t
I like most of the people here who I don't work with directly. I hate most of the people here I do work with directly. One them is the lazy insolent guy. He is currently throwing airplanes at other people. He's also the guy that sprayed somebody in the face with an inverted can of compressed air (the kind that reads "DO NOT tilt, shake, or turn can upside down before or during use as liquid contents may be dispersed. Liquid contents may cause frostbite on contact with skin.)
That's not cool.
Unprofessional, possibly actionable behaviour in the office by coworkers, combined with unprofessional inaction outside the office by clients is driving me mad.
Last week I sat for eight hours waiting for an email from the client who simply refused to correspond with me via email. He sent a number of reports to my manager, and to the insolent guy, replied to their questions, but sent nothing to me, and replied to none of my questions. Not surprisingly, the information I had requested was necessary to complete the report he had asked me for. I grew so frustrated I came very close to ripping the monitor off my computer and hurling it across the office. Last week, however, I also learned my lazy manager is leaving at the end of November, so maybe I should stick it out a couple of months, see if the situation improves.
Who knows. In unrelated news my new iPod is nice. I've watched the Ok, Go treadmill video on it about a billion times since downloading it.
-t
Monday, October 02, 2006
Thundercats, Silverhawks, and Skeletor, oh my!
I've been killing some time today reading up on some of my ill-remembered childhood favorites, He-Man, Thundercats, and Silverhawks. (Unlike the many accurately remembered childhood favorites like G.I. Joe, Gem, Darkwing Duck, Bananaman, Danger Mouse, You Can't Do That On Television, and Count Duckula.)
He-Man:
Growing up I had a He-Man action figure and his big green tiger. I'm pretty sure I was still so young that losing all of the accessories (He-Man's sword) wasn't a big deal to me, as long as I kept a handle on the saddle and faceplate for the cat. The saddle never stayed on.
My cousin, though, had the entire collection. Skeletor, the Castle Greyskull playset, the guy with the gears in his chest, and the telescoping neck, the guy with the arms and the mustache, other guys... everything. I'd go over sometimes and play with the castle and Skeletor, because they were both the coolest. Also, I remember thinking the castle belonged to Skeletor, because, hello, he's a skeleton and the castle is shaped like a giant skull. It looks like an evil castle. (this is actually what sparked the wikipedia research. I've always thought Greyskull was Skeletor's but apparently I was incorrect. Or maybe not...
Silverhawks:
This is one of the few cartoons I remember and no one else does. This is also one of the few cartoons I remember being totally cool when, in fact, upon reviewing it totally was not. Seriously the lamest theme song ever "Wings of silver, nerves of steel (Silverhawks)/ Partly metal, partly real (Silverhawks)" Lame, lame, lame lame lame. (And the battle cry was "Tallyhaaawwwwk!" Honestly.) But that's ok, I thought it was great as a kid, and what kid doesn't make mistakes of that nature? No kid. Unless you're a zombie. (Or possibly Martha Stewart - I imagine she spent one summer of her childhood lost, away from home, accidently locked in a dark basement of a summer cottage with no windows, rats for friends, and nothing but pinecones, four-inch ribbon, and craft glue to keep her company for the three months before they found her.)
But, the folks that brought us Silverhawks only did so because they enjoyed such success with their earlier release:
Thundercats:
Reading up on wikipedia you'll find some interesting trivia. While none of the Silverhawks or Thundercat lore/history/metadata is as prolific as He-Man's, there are still some entertaining questions to ... entertain.
For example: Did Cheetara favor Tygra or Lion-O? (Ignoring the fact that a comic series published after the cartoon ended has her winding up with Panthro)...
For me I've got to say Lion-O, because I'm pretty sure (and have been since I was four, though I probably couldn't have verbalized it until much later) that Tygra is totally, totally gay.
Look at him! Skin-tight leotard cut to capri length, the 'y' instead of an 'i' in his name, he's the "intelligent" one. Right.
On the other hand, I don't think she'd really prefer Lion-O, he looks like a perverted Bozo the Clown (and that guy already looked perverse).
Multi-cultural too (in a stereotypical kind of way): Panthro, the strong black mechanic who never finished high school; Tygra, the ..."intellectual" who lords his ivy-league education over everyone every chance he gets; Cheetara, the sexy Latina seductress who never contributes; Snarf, the white-trash, slow, hillbilly uncle; and the twins, Wilykat and Wilykit, average teenagers, probably hooked on video games and methamphetamines.
The bad guys though. Damn. They kicked ass. An ancient mummy channelling the spirits of the four great evils? Kick-ass! And he couldn't be killed! The worst you could do was drive him back to his sarcophagus. And Omens help you if Mum-Ra ever turned into one of his more powerful forms (Mum-Ra the Ever-Living, the All-Powerful, or the Master of Dreams). Scary stuff.
Skeletor had a floating head for a skull! Awesome! Though he did remind me a bit too much of the inept Cobra Commander from the Hasbro side of the aisle. Still. If you can get past the purple loin-cloth to see the floating skull, that's something.
-t
recommended download:
Theme - Silverhawks
Relient K, I'm Lion-O
He-Man:
Growing up I had a He-Man action figure and his big green tiger. I'm pretty sure I was still so young that losing all of the accessories (He-Man's sword) wasn't a big deal to me, as long as I kept a handle on the saddle and faceplate for the cat. The saddle never stayed on.
My cousin, though, had the entire collection. Skeletor, the Castle Greyskull playset, the guy with the gears in his chest, and the telescoping neck, the guy with the arms and the mustache, other guys... everything. I'd go over sometimes and play with the castle and Skeletor, because they were both the coolest. Also, I remember thinking the castle belonged to Skeletor, because, hello, he's a skeleton and the castle is shaped like a giant skull. It looks like an evil castle. (this is actually what sparked the wikipedia research. I've always thought Greyskull was Skeletor's but apparently I was incorrect. Or maybe not...
Silverhawks:
This is one of the few cartoons I remember and no one else does. This is also one of the few cartoons I remember being totally cool when, in fact, upon reviewing it totally was not. Seriously the lamest theme song ever "Wings of silver, nerves of steel (Silverhawks)/ Partly metal, partly real (Silverhawks)" Lame, lame, lame lame lame. (And the battle cry was "Tallyhaaawwwwk!" Honestly.) But that's ok, I thought it was great as a kid, and what kid doesn't make mistakes of that nature? No kid. Unless you're a zombie. (Or possibly Martha Stewart - I imagine she spent one summer of her childhood lost, away from home, accidently locked in a dark basement of a summer cottage with no windows, rats for friends, and nothing but pinecones, four-inch ribbon, and craft glue to keep her company for the three months before they found her.)
But, the folks that brought us Silverhawks only did so because they enjoyed such success with their earlier release:
Thundercats:
Reading up on wikipedia you'll find some interesting trivia. While none of the Silverhawks or Thundercat lore/history/metadata is as prolific as He-Man's, there are still some entertaining questions to ... entertain.
For example: Did Cheetara favor Tygra or Lion-O? (Ignoring the fact that a comic series published after the cartoon ended has her winding up with Panthro)...
For me I've got to say Lion-O, because I'm pretty sure (and have been since I was four, though I probably couldn't have verbalized it until much later) that Tygra is totally, totally gay.
Look at him! Skin-tight leotard cut to capri length, the 'y' instead of an 'i' in his name, he's the "intelligent" one. Right.
On the other hand, I don't think she'd really prefer Lion-O, he looks like a perverted Bozo the Clown (and that guy already looked perverse).
Multi-cultural too (in a stereotypical kind of way): Panthro, the strong black mechanic who never finished high school; Tygra, the ..."intellectual" who lords his ivy-league education over everyone every chance he gets; Cheetara, the sexy Latina seductress who never contributes; Snarf, the white-trash, slow, hillbilly uncle; and the twins, Wilykat and Wilykit, average teenagers, probably hooked on video games and methamphetamines.
The bad guys though. Damn. They kicked ass. An ancient mummy channelling the spirits of the four great evils? Kick-ass! And he couldn't be killed! The worst you could do was drive him back to his sarcophagus. And Omens help you if Mum-Ra ever turned into one of his more powerful forms (Mum-Ra the Ever-Living, the All-Powerful, or the Master of Dreams). Scary stuff.
Skeletor had a floating head for a skull! Awesome! Though he did remind me a bit too much of the inept Cobra Commander from the Hasbro side of the aisle. Still. If you can get past the purple loin-cloth to see the floating skull, that's something.
-t
recommended download:
Theme - Silverhawks
Relient K, I'm Lion-O
Weekend, weak start
I'm tying out positions and prices this morning (the one thing I know how to do), this afternoon I'm going to move back to cash. I'll let you know how it works out.
Turns out the iPod shuffle isn't available until October 31st. I have use for a portable mp3 player before then, so I've taken steps to get one. Namely: I bought a 30GB black video iPod.
Also, I went to the dentist last week and got an electric toothbrush. Woo. And no cavities! (Even with all the free Coke I'm drinking at work!)
And this weekend I went golfing! In the rain. It was ok, we got nine holes in, we had a ton of food afterward, and I won a bottle of wine in the raffle!
It rained a lot, though. I'm still drying out (from the wine)(I mean the rain).
So, music is back in my life. And so is the written word. I'm concurrently reading Bill Simmons "Now I Can Die In Peace," Richard Dawkins "The God Delusion," and finishing up Orson Scott Card "The Worthing Saga."
That's just a quick update. While I'm out at lunch I'm going to try to think up a great topic for a post, like zombies.
-t
recommended download:
Red Hot Chili Peppers, Tell Me, Baby
Theme - The Mysterious Cities of Gold
Lucky Boys Confusion, 50 of my Closest Friends and a Keg of Killian's
Turns out the iPod shuffle isn't available until October 31st. I have use for a portable mp3 player before then, so I've taken steps to get one. Namely: I bought a 30GB black video iPod.
Also, I went to the dentist last week and got an electric toothbrush. Woo. And no cavities! (Even with all the free Coke I'm drinking at work!)
And this weekend I went golfing! In the rain. It was ok, we got nine holes in, we had a ton of food afterward, and I won a bottle of wine in the raffle!
It rained a lot, though. I'm still drying out (from the wine)(I mean the rain).
So, music is back in my life. And so is the written word. I'm concurrently reading Bill Simmons "Now I Can Die In Peace," Richard Dawkins "The God Delusion," and finishing up Orson Scott Card "The Worthing Saga."
That's just a quick update. While I'm out at lunch I'm going to try to think up a great topic for a post, like zombies.
-t
recommended download:
Red Hot Chili Peppers, Tell Me, Baby
Theme - The Mysterious Cities of Gold
Lucky Boys Confusion, 50 of my Closest Friends and a Keg of Killian's
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