Thunder of Wade

The webteam is still relatively new to our new home division – Marketing.

It’s a good fit and we’re better off than we were in IT – but it has taken some getting used to.

During our first big meeting – when shown the new commercial – about the only thing I knew when asked “how does this make you feel?” was to not respond with “Queasy, from all the jump cuts.”

Since then, we’ve gotten much better integrated with the larger marketing group – but I was still a little apprehensive when the VP suggested an evening out at a bar/restaurant called The Office. As in “I’ll be home late from The Office”  Wink, wink.  Nudge, nudge.

I don’t drink and I’m kinda cheap – and at the end of the day spending more time with my colleagues seems… errr… well, I do have all those video games that need playing, after all.

But, an informal poll at a meeting of the webteam showed that everyone else was going and – like an ABC AfterSchool Special – I succumb to peer pressure.

And… it was good. No, it was kinda great. I got to know a couple of my colleagues a little better, got to show off some origami, and even made a marketing related joke. Who knew?

I’m still more comfortable with the ones and zeros. Where things either work or they don’t. Even when things don’t make sense, you know that everything still has a reason – even if we don’t know it or can never find it.

The marketing side of the house still feels a little like voodoo to me – but it’s creative voodoo and well-written voodoo and I can appreciate that.
And the crew there is pretty cool.

Added bonus – the VP picked up the check. 🙂

I didn’t stay late at The Office – Firestone Park has a vampire problem and I try to avoid getting home after dark if possible – but I had a good time and I think I got some new perspective.

The first day of our vacation was spent mostly in the car. We drove to Asheville, NC and wandered around the shops and art galleries. It was a little later when we got dinner and then checked into the hotel.

Or tried to.

There was no one at the front desk. We waited for a few minutes and no one showed up. There was no bell and a check down the hallways didn’t show any other offices. I noticed a courtesy phone between the outer doors and went to give that a try. It rang and rang for a while, then someone picked up. It was the after-hours answering service. Which was a little odd since it was only about 7 pm.

I explained what was going on – or what wasn’t – and she said she’d try to find someone. She put me on hold and I waited. After I’d been on hold for a few minutes, someone else came through the doors to check in. I saw him talking to Jim at the counter. Jim was also trying to call the 800 number and not getting an answer.

Eventually, the woman came back on and said she was still trying. She put me on hold again and I opened the inner door to report. “Still on hold, no success yet, but the music was nice.”

A few more minutes passed and finally the woman comes back on. She apologizes that she still can’t find someone, but will let me go and keep trying. I thank her, hang up, and head back inside. We wait a few more minutes until finally the desk clerk arrives – about 20 minutes since we first arrived – smelling strongly of cigarette smoke.

Hmmmm…

There was no apology for keeping us waiting, but he gets us checked in and we head up to the room. And when we open the door, the room smells terrible. Like old, stale, cigarette smoke.

Again, hmmm…

I sit down on the bed and pick up the phone to call the front desk. I explain the problem and ask for a different room. He checks and does have one, but that we’ll need to come down to the lobby to get different keys. Before we do that, though, would I mind opening the window in the room for him?

What?

So, I open the window and we take our stuff back down to the lobby. He gives us new keys and a new room number as he expresses disbelief that someone had been smoking in the room since this was a smoke-free hotel.

Really.

I was a little curious why the cleaning staff didn’t report it – since there’s a fine if you smoke in the rooms – and why it smelled like old cigarette smoke. Something didn’t really add up, but the new room was okay – it at least smelled better – and we got settled in.

I then went looking for a vending machine, but there were none on our floor. Back down to the lobby and I asked the guy the desk. He indicated the guest laundry room and I went there.

Except the door was locked and my key didn’t work. Back to the lobby and got my card re-keyed, then got a soda.

Back up to the room and Jim wanted some ice. He went back down and returned in a bit – there was no ice machine, but there were of course trays in the fridge in the room. That were empty.

So, he filled them up for the next guest and we called it a night.

I got a survey from google asking me to rate and comment on the hotel. Since this would be associated with my name and I’m well aware of how lawsuit-happy some places can be if you talk bad about them – I commented with “Room was adequate, staff could have been more attentive.”

By contrast – fortunately – the condo we stayed at for the week was clean, well decorated, comfortable, and had a great view. I may or may not have microwaved a palmetto bug, but those things are everywhere and I just rolled with it.

One of the oddest experiences on vacation was grocery shopping the first night we got there. We headed into the Bi-Lo and I went to the deli counter to get some lunch meat for the week’s worth of sandwiches.

There were two weighing stations – and I stood in front of the one nearest the turkey. It was unstaffed at the moment. At the other station was a guy that looked like a manager talking to a customer. We’ll call her “Crazy” for reasons that will later become clear. They were talking loudly for quite a while and I stood up straight and with intention – hoping that when she was done, he’d see me. Instead, another employee came to ask him something. I suspected later that this was a rescue from Crazy.

He left with the employee and completely bypassed me. Still don’t know if he didn’t see me or did and didn’t care – but he was gone. Crazy wandered my direction and told me that they hated her for doing that – i.e. taking up a bunch of time with idle chatter, perhaps – and said if I stood there long enough someone would eventually come up. Since that was my plan anyway, I kept waiting. She was headed out, but decided to intervene on my behalf.

Crazy came back over to the counter and shouted to the back. “Hey, someone needs help out here,”

After a moment, another woman wandered out from the back. We’ll call her Cranky. She announced, in no uncertain terms, that the counter was closed.

Crazy – but now oddly Helpful – countered and said that the counter was open til 8 and it was only 7:15.

Cranky counter-countered – at the counter – and said that she was the only one working and they closed early if there was only one working.

I thought quickly as I watched this exchange get carried out. If Crazy won, I would get my lunch meat. If she – and by extension me – lost, then I’d be no worse off. I was fine to let Crazy continue to advocate on my behalf – hopeful that she would deflect Cranky if that escalated.

After a little more back and forth, Cranky reluctantly agreed to help me and Crazy headed out triumphant.

I placed my order under Cranky’s glare and told her I appreciated her help. She reminded me again that they close early when there’s only one person working – perhaps as a note for future visits, though I would have no idea about their staffing.

With lunchmeat in hand, I headed out – grateful to have had an advocate and to have escaped; confused, but unscathed.
By contrast, the deli restaurant we ate at later was staffed by delightful people. And when we cleared off our table, one of the women that worked there declared that – because I had tidied up the table – my house too must be neat as a pin.

My Dad put up two tire swings for my nieces in his backyard. One painted pink and the other purple, naturally.

My brother-in-law suggested that I give them a try and that they’ll support my weight.

Now, I’m of the opinion that youth is wasted on the young and if given the chance to “play”, I’ll take it. So, I clambered on the pink one – it seems to be on a sturdier branch – got a couple good swings and fell off. It wasn’t far and I wasn’t hurt, and not even really embarrassed.

I lay on the ground, laughing for a moment, then got back up and climbed back on. This time, I got settled in a little better and had what I hoped was a better grip. My brother-in-law started to push me a few times and then I got to spinning. The rope hurt my hand and I started to lose my balance. Spinning around wildly, I finally managed to get out that I wanted to stop and when I did, I gratefully fell to the ground in a heap.

I lay there for a moment – stunned – then stood up and stumbled around, still dizzy. I didn’t throw up, but it was a near thing for a few minutes.

I shook it off and went about my way.

A little later, my niece commented that the pink tire swing was a lot lower than it used to be.

Thanks.

So, I survived the tire swing but it clearly won. I think I might have done better if the tire had been bigger and the rope a little easier to grip, but I may just be fooling myself.

Clearly, still not a grown-up and in need of adult supervision.

I was at work on Friday and I popped on over to the homepage to go to the log-in screen for the editor.

And I stopped. There was something…off. The page was somehow just a little bit different than it should have been. I couldn’t quite place it, but it was enough.

So, I went down the hall to the boss’s office and asked “Did something change on the homepage today?”

He looked at me, astonished.

“How could you have noticed that?”

Turns out that earlier in the day one of my colleagues had increased the font size of the smallest menu at the top of the page. By 2 point sizes.

That was it. That was the entirety of the change.

The boss pointed out what they had done and was still impressed that I had picked up on it.

I didn’t take computer science in college and I’m not a programmer – but if there was any doubt that I’m a geek, it got dispelled that day.

Alas, there was no prize for being the first to notice it.

1. It’s okay for women to be topless in public in Asheville, NC.

I only saw one woman do this and she was pretty cool about it. A little surprising, but… good for her. I considered taking off my shirt as we went past in a show of support, but that’s not really the point since I can do that anywhere.  And frequently do.

2. Southern Hospitality is hit or miss.

The best example of this was the woman at the grocery store meat counter who was very reluctant to slice up some turkey for me and made no bones about telling me that she had other and more important things to do in the back. And even if the meat counter didn’t close until 8, she was shutting it down at 7 since she was the only one working.  I got my turkey, but it was a near thing.

3. I’m still a pretty good swimmer, but it’s not as much fun.

My arm bothered me quite a bit. I could still move through the water and got a good stretch, but it wasn’t the same. On the plus side, no sea creatures bothered me and I was able to shuck my trunks for most of my time in the water.

4. I totally rock at roundabouts.

I mean, totally. I nailed them every time. Take that, Clark W. Griswald.

5. Island deer like apples. A lot.

6. We have terrible, terrible luck at eating out.

Poor directions to some places or they simply didn’t exist. Terrible service at others – our server at one place just left and didn’t come back. Some places closed at 3 or said they were open but were closed or just had locked doors – or closed only on the day we went there. Or open, but no food. Or no silverware. Pizza Hut would rather you not eat in and aren’t going to bring the pizza to you. It was kind of amazing when we did find a place where everything worked out – except their fries were terrible.

7. With my haircut, the swimming, and being the getaway driver for Jim’s photo project, I’m basically Jason Statham.

In every movie he’s ever done.

8. Water-saturated beach sand is a non-Newtonian solid.

Google It.

9. I’m not a good tourist.

I need regular meals at regular times, I’m not good with crowds, and I really don’t like being lost.  And if you happen to be around me in a crowd of people at 2 o’clock when I haven’t been able to find the restaurant (DAMN YOU, GOOGLE MAPS!), well, heaven help you.

10. All I really need is a beach, a book, a full belly, and an empty bladder.

That’s really all it takes for me to have a good vacation.

So, yeah, I met with the Secret Service today.

An agent from that department came to our office today to:

1. Let us know that yes, Donald Trump is coming to UA – on Monday.

2. Let us know what to do and who to contact if someone calls in a threat to the campus switchboard.

3. Get a signature to authorize having our phones tapped if someone does make a threat.

So, yeah.

I got the operators updated while we tried to figure out who had the authority to sign for that. We eventually tracked down the right VP, but so many of the buildings on campus are “land-locked”, it was easier just to take him there. Or rather, he drove and I rode along and gave him directions to appropriate parking. And then I walked him to the right building and the right VP.

Then I got the hell out of there. This was waaaaay above my pay scale.

So, yeah, that happened.  Good luck, Akron.

Went out to dinner with friends earlier this week and we went to Cilantro. The company was great and the food was good too – if a little pricey. Two things of note:

1. The dish I had was called Tofu-Rama and I ordered a spicy level of 2 out of 5. Which is completely arbitrary. I’m reminded of the Hitchhiker’s guide to the galaxy:

“R is a velocity measure, defined as a reasonable speed of travel that is consistent with health, mental well-being and not being more than say five minutes late. It is therefore clearly an almost infinitely variable figure according to circumstances, since the first two factors vary not only with speed taken as an absolute, but also with awareness of the third factor. Unless handled with tranquility this equation can result in considerable stress, ulcers and even death.”

So, whatever “2” was in the spicy scale, it was clearly at the upper threshold for me. I suspect 3 would have been painful, 4 a sudden death, and 5 would involve bursting into flame and melting straight down through the ground to the planet’s core.

Jim suggested that I might have been a wuss about it.

2. The server was a young man of Asian ancestry with shockingly orange hair. He introduced himself as “Bruce” and it took everything I had in me not to ask his last name. If he had said “Lee”, I suspect I would not have been able to contain myself.

Also, the sushi was amazing.

———————

Yesterday, after work, I went to get my haircut. I had just started folding some paper when it was my turn. So, paper in hand, I sat down and got covered up by the cape. Or whatever it’s called – seems a lot like a cape.

Anyway, I kept right on folding since most of the things I can do don’t need me to actually look at the paper.

I kept my hand movements to a minimum because, well, nevermind.

I finished up the origami and held onto it while she finished up my haircut. When she pulled off the cape, I held up the finished model and said, “Well, let’s see how it turned out,”

I handed her the small red dragon to her surprise and delight. Then she asked, “Did you make this?”

“Yes,” I told her, “Just now,”

“Really?”

“Sure, I’ve folded enough of these that I don’t need to look at the paper anymore,”

I don’t think I convinced her until I pulled out the stack of paper from my pocket and showed her the small red squares – and even with that she was a little incredulous.

Next time, I’ll need to show her the paper square before my hands disappear under the cape.

If you’re going to do magic, better to set up the trick beforehand.

A couple weekends ago, I went and saw the new Ghostbusters movie with some friends. We had dinner first and got to the theater a little later than expected – which would usually not be a big deal for a movie after opening weekend. I was excited about the venue since each theater had all reclining seats. Not just lean back, but really recline and stretch out. Sounded pretty awesome – with just one small problem.

The only seats left were in the front row.

So, we got seated and reclined – and I braced myself.

I’ve only ever sat in a front row before at a movie once before and I got terribly sick at the time. So, I closed my eyes through the previews and tried to conserve my “not-wanting-to-puke” status for as long as I could.

When the movie started I was prepared for quick glances and then long recovery with my eyes closed – trusting the audio to keep me up to speed. To my surprise, though, I didn’t get sick. A little headache, but that was manageable. I think there were enough scenes that didn’t jump cut and enough time with exposition that I could focus on small parts of the gigantic screen.

And it was a fun movie. Kate MiKinnon as Holtzman was amazingly funny – I would have been fine with just her as the only character. The effects were well done and the story was interesting. And the prior Ghostbusters made some fun cameos. Looking forward to seeing this on DVD where I can recline again – but this time in my living room.

——————-

Last weekend was my youngest niece’s birthday. She turned 4. I had been struggling with what to get her and asked my sister – joking suggesting that I was going to get her a hammer or a bandsaw. She replied that my niece wanted a bandsaw – then gave me some other suggestions: princesses, kitties, anything purple, baby doll clothes, and clothes for her.

I went to Toys R Us and fairly quickly found a stuffed Purple, Princess, disney Kitty. And while this was pretty cool – it wasn’t quite enough. There wasn’t a bandsaw there, but they did sell play chainsaws with a Home Depot brand.

So, of course, I bought one. The clerk tried to give me two gift receipts – assuming that these two items couldn’t possibly be for the same child.

My niece opened the stuffed kitty package first and was pretty excited. When she opened the chainsaw one she was a little confused, but was soon pretending to cut her dad’s leg off or sawing a chair in half.

I’m the fun uncle. Well, and the weird one too.

I think she liked both presents and I’m glad she’s got an open mind about pretending.

I had a dream that I was wearing a chicken costume.

I was at a party at a banquet hall and was part of the entertainment. I took a break and leaned back against the wall – out of the way and off to the side. I lifted one chicken-foot-booted foot up and pressed the sole against the wall. Then did the same with the other one – at the same time.

So, back to the wall and both feet off the ground. I sort of hung there for a moment, then carefully pushed upward with my feet. I slid up the wall, now even further off the ground and unsupported. With a little effort, I made my way up and navigated the corner between the wall and the ceiling until I was stretched out across the ceiling.

Looking down, I waved to the party goers. They looked back up – interested, but not afraid.

I rolled over and crawled across the ceiling, trying to figure out what was holding me up there.

Was it magnets in the chicken suit and a metal ceiling? I didn’t feel any pull like you get when you shift a magnet and that seemed to rule that out.

Was it all in my head? A hallucination? Not likely – the people on the ground could clearly see me up on the ceiling.

I made my way across the ceiling and crawled down to the floor again. All through the trip I tried to keep as much of my body in contact with a solid surface. Seemed to be necessary but I didn’t know why.

Back on the ground, I got changed out of my chicken costume and headed to class. While the professor was talking, I casually lifted a pencil up off the desk and let it go in mid-air.

It didn’t fall. Instead, it hung there in the air unsupported.

A few classmates around me tried this as well and soon the air was filled with gently floating objects.

The professor came over and I explained what had happened with the chicken costume. He proposed a simple experiment – I would leave the room and walk away for 3 minutes, then come back. Getting out of range would tell if it was me specifically or something global.

I walked out of the room and down the hall, heading outside. I kept checking my watch to track the time and…. it didn’t seem to be progressing.

After a while – how long, I couldn’t tell since my watch wasn’t working – I headed back into the building.

And then I saw the problem. It wasn’t just objects floating anymore. Instead, everything was frozen in motion.

I hadn’t been defying gravity at all. Instead, I had just been falling so very slowly that it looked like I wasn’t falling at all. That explained the chicken costume on the ceiling (sort of) and the floating pencil.

As I progressed through the building I realized that I was the only one moving at all. Everyone and everything else was either frozen or slowed down so much that it didn’t matter.

I took off my useless watch and dropped it to hang in the air, then wandered around the silent building – full of people that I could no longer interact with.

It was frightening and lonely.

I wandered around the halls trying to interact – maybe bring my own time field to cover someone or something else. But, as my watch evidenced, it was me and only me that was on “normal” time.

I wandered back outside to see if the rest of the world was affected and that’s when I dragged myself out of sleep.

The alarm clock next to my bed seemed to flit back and forth in time for a while – it was 5:23, then 5:18, then 6:05 the next minute. The alarm started going off and I woke up the rest of the way.

I got out of bed and sat on the floor next to my cat. We hung out for a few minutes so I could settle back into time – then I got to my feet, got dressed, and went to work.

Things seem to be okay here, but if they day feels like it’s taking forever, it might be me.