Sharpish

Hola,

What a lazy bastard I've been in terms of writing. I mean, what is this, my second post in December? Pathetic. Anyway, all is well in life and I'll be back with more energy in 2008. Hope you all have a great end to the holiday season and I'll see you in the new year.


Cheers,
TWF

The City Boy

I went to sleep early last night because I haven't been feeling tip top lately and I wanted some extra rest. At 11:15 PM I awoke to what sounded like wind blowing open our doggy-door downstairs. Groggy and not entirely convinced of what the sound was, I laid in bed for a few minutes trying to figure it out. It's not uncommon for the doggy-door to blow open and shut when the wind blows, creating a sound similar to a shovel or a dust pan grazing concrete, so I didn't think much of it. But as I started to fall back to sleep and still heard the noise, I realized that the weather had been perfect all day and was supposed to be for the next few days. Immediately my heart started racing as I realized the sound couldn't be coming from wind, although it was certainly the doggy-door.

At this point I knew there could be a problem brewing. I sat up in bed and determined that the noise was one of two things: 1. A burglar trying to get through the small door. 2. An animal trying to get in and having some trouble doing so. Truthfully, I was almost hoping for the former because I figured I could handle anyone dumb enough to try and enter our house through the doggy-door made for a small to medium size dog, and I knew that any animal trying to come in was likely going to be ugly and scared, thus making it surly and less than enjoyable to deal with. Plus, outside of dogs, cats and other domesticated creatures I'm not exactly Crocodile Dundee when it comes to handling animals. The uglier and less cuddly the animal, the more scared I am of it. So when one of the animals I first assumed may be lurking downstairs was a Possum, I nearly shat myself.

Standing on the top of our staircase, in my underwear and still half asleep, I mentally ran through possible scenarios that could be causing the stir. "There could be a massive possum, ugly as all hell with it's ribbed tail whipping back and forth, stuck in the doggy-door and staring me in the eye as I walked down the stairs." Or "Maybe it's a group of them entering the house, thus causing the sound to persist." That led to "Shit! What in the hell will I do if there are wild animals in my kitchen when I get downstairs??" A question that may have obvious answers for many of you, but for me, a guy who grew up on the beach with almost no wild animals, at least on land, within 10 miles of me, this is not something I can figure out on the fly, and in my underwear, in the middle of the night.

I was so troubled and unable to think that I briefly considered going back into the bedroom, locking the door, and hoping it (whatever "it" was) would be gone in the morning. Thankfully for my male pride, the drop or two of manhood that I still had at that point forced me into action....sort of.

I grabbed a flashlight and headed down the stairs, one inch at a time. I moved with such trepidation you would have thought I was approaching a lion's den.

We have a landing that separates our two flights of stairs, the bottom half of which looks directly at the doggy-door in question. When I reached the last stair before the landing, I knelt down to see if I could make out what was there. Still nothing in sight, but the sound continued.

At this point, I made a loud noise. Most likely the squeal of a little girl, but thankfully nobody will ever know. When the door kept brushing back and forth and I couldn't see anything I knew it must be an animal. A human surely would have been visible and/or scared off by my fearful cry. So I took a deep breath, and made the life risking (at least in my mind) final step onto the landing where I would surely be face-to-face with the viscous beast. I aimed my weapon, er, flashlight, onto the doggy-door and didn't see anything. What the hell? Then I pointed the light a few feet to the right, down the sliding glass door that connects the doggy-door to the wall. What I saw was two yellow eyes, a girthy body, grey fir and a tail with black stripes. A freakin' raccoon! Next to it, trying to push its way through the doggy door, was his equally wide companion. Thankfully, the varmint was too plump to force his way through, so the door just kept opening and shutting as he repeatedly tried to shimmy through the threshold.

After all that fear, all the "what ifs" that raced through my brain, my viscous intruder turned out to be a pair of raccoons looking for some grub. All I had to do was shake the flashlight a bit and they took off. But before they did, the one I initially locked eyes with stopped, sat down to itch his neck, much like a dog would, gave me a "I can't be bothered to deal with you" look, and casually walked away. I swear he was trying to show me up. Little bastard.

In hindsight, we practically set the table for those furry little creatures. Not only are our trash bins right outside that side door, but our dog's bowls, typically filled with food and water, sit right inside the doggy-door. The scent must have been too much to resist. I'm surprised I haven't heard/seen this happen before.

So there's that. I'm officially, and publicly, a candy-ass city boy. I haven't got the slightest clue how to deal with a wild animal, and I probably never will. In fact, I still don't know what I would have done had one of those critters gotten inside. I might re-consider the "go back in the bedroom and hope it isn't there in the morning" route, or maybe I'll "shoe 'em off with a broom" as Forrest Gump said his momma used to do. Either way, you can be certain that I will be scared stiff.


Cheers,
TWF
a.k.a The City Boy

Keep on Keepin' on

Hola folks. Como estan? It's absolutely gorgeous here in Southern California today. Not a cloud in the sky, the weather is warm, but still has a briskness to it, and the ocean is reflecting the sun as though it's covered in diamonds. Yep, this is why I live in Southern California.

It's days like today when it becomes crystal clear why I don't enjoy working in an office 5 days a week. Toss out all the politics and management issues and I'm still left with the reality that I'm living in a paradise that I'm mostly limited to seeing through an office window. Even worse, due to the energy that I expend while in the office, I'm not exactly feeling like going out and enjoying the landscape when I get off work. Quite the opposite actually. Not for long, though. My focus is entirely on what's next; where my path will lead me. Until then I'll just have to make due with the periodic breaks in my schedule that I get. It could be worse. Indeed, it could be much, much worse.

Here's a poem I found. Not sure who the author is, but it works for me right now.

The Search

The search for perfection
A roller coaster of life
More than a mere collection
Of happiness and strife

Memories fade, dreams shine bright
Things fall into place
When one learns not to fight
The path to the dream space

Where is My Mind?

There's no getting around it: I'm in a bit of a slump right now. I haven't quite hit my stride in my new position, my body is far from the form I'd like it to be in, and I've been feeling a little under the weather in the past few days to top it off. Seems like light years ago that I was feeling like the hand of God itself was guiding me through each day. Luckily, I've got enough faith to know that I have no less contact with Spirit right now than I do when I'm feeling on top of the world. Still, though, I have to get back to basics, and sharpish. It's no coincidence that when things don't feel right I'm not doing enough of what I enjoy. A number of posts back I wrote about how just spending a few minutes of quiet time each day can make a huge difference in how I feel. One would think that post meant that I was finally getting the point and wouldn't do myself the injustice of getting too caught up in the physical world, but no sir, I still go days without taking the proper time to center myself and focus on aligning my energy with the life I want to manifest. Frustrating as all hell that type of idiocy is, but my physical body has one hell of a gravitational pull towards all things not Spirit.

I have a tattoo of an Aztec Ourobourous, which in really simple terms is a symbol of the duality of nature (i.e., all things can be good and bad). It's not unlike the Yin and the Yang. This tattoo is very significant for me because no matter how close to Spirit I get, I'm never more than a few steps away from completely losing myself in the physical world and having to start over again spiritually. Suffice to say I'm painfully aware that if I don't stay centered, there will be enough ups and downs in my life to provide a course for the mother of all roller coasters.

So anyway, I'm far from being beset with negative energy, but I'm also very conscious that it's time to get back to the basics or I could end up running on empty. Reading, writing, playing guitar, focusing on health. All these things needs to become priorities again. Once they do, I'll be back to my old self and on track to manifest my dreams.


Cheers,
TWF

Against Me! Music Review

Been listening to the new Against Me! album, New Wave, recently. Well, I shouldn't make it sound like I've been listening to it everyday and giving it the attention necessary to write a proper review, but what the hell, this is my blog and I'll write half-educated music reviews if I damn well please. This is a freaking great album. The whole collection just has something different about its sound, and I haven't really been able to put a finger on what it is because it's more of a collection of uniqueness than one standout quality. Lead singer, Tom Gabel's voice has a bit of a scratchy, "I can only sing when I scream" quality to it, but I dig it and it seems to work for their music. Sort of makes you want to scream along with him, which makes for a great tension release and a few embarrassing moments when another driver laughs at your singing on the freeway. The drums are another strong point for these up and comers. Warren Oakes pounds his set like he has a score to settle, which makes for a very aggressive, yet catchy sound. Lead guitar, played by James Bowman, isn't exactly going to inspire memories of Kirk Hammett or Jimmy Page, but it's more than adequate and his ability to hit the high notes on back up vocals provides a nice contrast to Gabel's screeching rants.

As much as it pains me to say it, the jewel of the album is "Thrash Unreal." I say it that way because the song has been played to death on my local radio station (FM 94.9 for those interested in listening online....great alternative station), and that usually means a song is candy-ass enough to appeal to the masses. In this case, though, I think the radio has got it right. They chose the song that most appeals to the masses, but also happens to be the best song on the album. It starts with a simple riff that warns of much heaviness to come. Gabel's vocals and Oakes' drums quickly take over and it's a musical assault from there. One could easily mistakenly brand the song "mainstream" after hearing the group sing "ba-ba-ba ba-ba-ba-bada" during the chorus, but a quick listen to the lyrics of the song would expose that take as far from the truth. The song is in fact about a heroine-destroyed girl and overextended youthful partying.

Most of today's music is pretty run-of-the-mill crap, with super clean drums, way-too -predictable guitar and vocals that say "I need to feel important", but fall well short of their mark. New Wave presents something much more satisfying and original. Listening to it gives me the feeling that Against Me! really doesn't give a shit what I think about their music, but if after a listen or two I do like the album, then hey, they're happy that I do. I give this album solid 4 stars out of 5. So go an buy it, or download it if you're the digital type. Just make sure you write the band and tell them there's an obscure blogger out there who is promoting their music.


Cheers,
TWF

Thanks for the Lesson, Sean

Really not feeling the writing vibe tonight, but I do want to make a quick comment regarding the tragic passing of Washington Redskin Sean Taylor this morning. When is the NFL going to really step up and be responsible for putting a serious guidance/mentoring plan in place for the young men that join the league and become instant millionaires each year? Sean's passing from a gun shot wound to the groin and subsequent "massive blood loss" due to a severed artery makes two NFL players in the span of 11 months that have been murdered. Look, I understand that every human being is largely responsible for their own well being, but in the case of young professional athletes, I think the league they play for needs to provide a lot more guidance than the standard 1-2 day Rookie Symposium that the NFL and other leagues have.

More than 25% of rookie NFL players come from lower class backgrounds, and when they sign their rookie contracts they either become millionaires overnight, or at the very least are made vastly wealthier than anyone they've ever been around in their life. How are they supposed to deal with the issues that come with that money (old "friends" looking for free money, shady agents, drugs, etc.) without some serious guidance, and who better to provide that guidance than the people that are signing the checks? I liken this situation to credit card companies or mortgage companies that enable naive people to get into financial trouble. Is it really that worth the money to destroy a life? As humans, don't we owe it to society to try and help each other out? It is possible to look out for number one while also not dropping a number two on someone else.

That's all for today.


Cheers,
TWF

As the World Turns

Damn, it's almost been a full week since I've logged a post in bloggerville. Luckily for my sanity, I've written a bit elsewhere, but this is the longest I've gone without a virtual post since the inception of The Office Diaries in early October. I feel like I have to reacquaint myself with an old friend. I'd ask how you are all doing, but I'm pretty sure I only get a visitor once or twice a week. If I'm missing any regular readers, I apologize.

Today was my last official day as sales manager for my wonderful company (no sarcasm in that comment...). We finally found someone to backfill for me and to get paid too little for doing too much. Actually, to use the term "we found someone" wouldn't be entirely accurate. You see, despite looks in the eye and promises from my integrity-lacking boss, I was not involved in the hiring of this person. Not even a quick phone screen.

The company I work for used to be a very special place. Not only is the business side of it interesting, but the people that worked here were great. Everyone was a former athlete, had relatively similar interests outside work, and enjoyed being in the office. Now, nobody really cares. We still have former athletes everywhere, but the "love" is gone. People don't smile as much, interact with each other, or exude any sort of positive energy. You may be thinking, "Hey pal, most companies are like that. You should be thankful you had it good for so long.", and you're right, to a certain extent. I was really lucky for a long time, but that doesn't matter to me now, nor should it. As I've said before, it's all relative. Just because most places of work aren't enjoyable places to be, doesn't mean I should be ok with the fact that my company has gone from good to bad. Anyway, to make a long story short, this is exactly the type of behavior from management that is sinking this ship like Titanic. Managers that don't know a thing about what once made the company special, and don't care about people other than themselves, are hiring more people that don't know anything about what made the company special and don't care about people other than themselves. Ignorance begets ignorance. Selfishness begets selfishness. Thuper! What's even worse about this situation is that I was promised a prominent role in picking my successor. Did that happen? Did anything remotely close to that happen? Hell no. I was lied to, pushed aside like yesterday's news, and notified of the new hire via a cheap, classless email that someone had been hired to take my place. Yep, that's corporate America. Any takers?

But wait. There is a silver lining here. The timing of this hire couldn't have been better, because the person that I am now taking over for left last Wednesday for a new job, which meant that I would have been handling all of his business and and managing 11 people until a new sales manager came in for me. Now I don't have to worry about that and I can get busy gettin' busy with my new job. Yee ha! Mr. Me is a happy man. Part of this transition means that I was able to clear my calendar of all recurring meetings today. That's approximately 20 hours per week of meetings that no longer exist on my calendar......saaaweeeet! This new found freedom allows me a heck of a lot of flexibility in my workdays, which in turn gives me the chance to go to the gym during lunch every day like I used to do before I joined the ranks of management/slavery. And trust me, I need exercise right now like I need air. To say I've put on a few pounds in the last year is like saying Chris Farley needed to lose a few pounds. I look like the Pillsbury Dough Boy, and it's a new sensation that I'd like never to feel again.

So there's that. I suppose you could say I've mentally turned lemons into lemonade at work. I went through a bit of a rough patch, finished off by a less than professional situation, but now things are looking up. I'm a much better person because of my experience and I see great things in my future, regardless of whether or not I stay at this company. I can't wait to see what's around the corner and you can look forward to hearing all about it. And I do apologize in advance for that.


Cheers,
TWF

Excess...

...Is the word of the day for tomorrow. Excessive eating. Excessive love. Excessive football. Excessive drink. Excessive laziness. Excessive excess. Get the point? Thanksgiving is the only day of the year that I am able to completely throw guilt out the proverbial window, and essentially justify being a sloth.

This year, though, I have finally come to realize that Thanksgiving, and the entire holiday season, are simply wonderful times to take stock of everything that is good in life, which thankfully for me, is just about everything. I know, you're probably thinking that last statement about everything being good belies the tone of most of my posts, but as I've mentioned before, much of what I write is sarcastic, and I should make it clear that I am a very happy person. I simply use this blog as a forum to vent my frustrations in a way that doesn't generate much negative energy. Still, to change the tune for a day and write nothing by clearly positive prose, I will lay out an honest to goodness list of the things I'm thankful for. Because like I said, my life is pretty damn good and I feel like I need to put in written words what I'm grateful for. The least I can do for a universe that has given me everything is to give back a little positive energy via my blog. Enjoy your Thanksgiving peeps.

I'm thankful for:
-My wife
-My dog
-My parents
-My in-laws (not kidding)
-ALL of my family
-My health
-My job (again, not kidding)
-My car
-My clothes
-My education
-The teachers I've had in life (not just formal education teachers)
-The lessons I've learned
-My ability to walk and talk
-My ability to smile.....every day
-Sports
-Comedy
-Music
-This blog
-My spirituality
-My entire life. If there's one thing I've learned recently, I have a wonderful life and what I experience is ENTIRELY up to me. I look forward to experiencing the dream space I've known would be part of my life since birth.

Enjoy your holiday weekend everyone. I wish you nothing but the best.


Cheers,
TWF

Human Ineraction

I interviewed someone today for an open sales position I have. Over the past few years I've interviewed quite a few people, and although I'm far from a seasoned interview vet, I do feel like I can get a pretty good read on someone within the first few minutes of meeting them. For instance, when I interview someone for a sales position I need to see that they're comfortable interacting with someone they don't know. Simple, I know, but you'd be surprised how many people try to get sales jobs when they can barely hold a conversation. If I'm interviewing for an account management position that requires strong problem solving skills, I need someone that can show me persistence, perserverance, and patience, among other things. Again, qualities that not as many candidates have as you might expect. Anyway, after having a solid amount of interviews under my belt and having quite a few other things to do throughout my day besides conduct an interview, I can sometimes become quickly uninterested when someone doesn't "wow" me in the first few minutes. I honestly don't want to sound arrogant, because that's not the feeling I'm conveying, but it's just a fact that sales candidates need to do something to stand out. When someone comes in to try and sell themself to me, I expect to be drawn in fairly quickly. If they can't convince someone like me who is trying to give them a chance, they likely won't convince someone that doesn't trust them or want to talk to them in the first place. Every once in a while, though, I'm reminded that just because someone doesn't scream "Hire me!" (figuratively, of course) in the first few minutes of an interview, doesn't mean that they don't have a wonderful personality that is very well suited for sales. Today was one of those days.

When I shook John's (not his real name) hand, I saw someone that was a little overwhelmed by the moment. We're not a huge company, but we've got between 300-400 people in our San Diego headquarters, and a fairly large office covering 3 full floors, so I could see how it would be a tad bit intimidating for an outsider. Still, I expect a certain amount of confidence from an interviewee, or at least a facade of confidence. And when John didn't show that, my mind immediately went into "what's my next appointment" mode, which, I admit, is terrible. I walked him upstairs to one of our conference rooms, exchanging small talk along the way to try and make him feel comfortable, and we proceeded to sit down and begin our talk. For the first few minutes we talked about sports and he was still a little, how should I say, stiff. I was clearly carrying the conversation and it was zero fun for either of us. But about 10 minutes into the interview, mostly sports talk to that point, an interesting thing happened: John began to open up. All of a sudden his hands were moving, he was smiling, and I sensed that he was really settling in. What started out as an awkward interpersonal communication had turned into a comfortable, free flowing conversation. We talked about his past experience, what our company is about, and most importantly, at least in terms of him showing genuine interest and intelligence, he asked a lot of questions about what the job would entail. It was truly and enjoyable experience and it wouldn't have happened had I let my mind "check out" of the conversation.

Short story, I know, but I was reminded today of a simple, yet time tested lesson of human interaction: Don't judge a book by its cover. In this situation, the "cover" wasn't what John looked like; rather, the cover was the initial energy that he put out. I'm finding that it's important to give people a little time to express themselves, in or out of the office. Some are outgoing and some are more reserved. Some are colorful and some are drab. Everyone is unique. Whether or not I get a chance to see what is special about someone depends on my willingness to learn and be patient. The more I expect positive encounters, the more I'll have them.



Cheers,
TWF

Fear and Glaciers in Tahiti and Alaska

I find myself to be a pretty safe person. And by safe I mean not very daring. Alright, to be perfectly honest, I am downright afraid of just about any activity that has obvious physical risk to it. Call me crazy, but the idea of breaking a bone or otherwise physically injuring myself doing something that screams "I will make you regret doing this. Maybe not today, maybe not even tomorrow, but you will pay for your arrogance in thinking you can take advantage of me without consequence." doesn't get my "motor" humming. I know, activities probably don't think like I just portrayed, but they might as well because that's how I think about them.

When I was younger, I was a fairly adventurous individual. I played "full contact" sports like Football and Soccer and I also surfed waves up to 10 ft., skied and snowboarded big mountains and skateboarded every day. On the surface, I may have looked like a fearless person. But there was always an underlying fear that held me back in just about any sport I took part in. Nobody really knew it, but I was pretty damn scared about getting hurt doing all those things. Nowadays, that fear has made friends with my adult logic and they're partying like it's 1999. I simply am not willing to risk life and limb for a quick rush. Period. My brain is trained to consider the worst case scenario in any given situation, so when I so much as step on a skateboard these days I'm thinking about breaking my neck. And to be candid, I'm not really bothered by my growing reluctance to put myself in potentially dangerous situations. I'm quite happy living out my life on the physically conservative side.

Still, there are a few activities today that, if I had proper experience, would be pretty enticing, for no other reason than to say I did them. I think we all have an inner voice that tells us that we don't want to be breathing our last breath only to be filled with regret towards what we didn't do in life, and some activities that are being done today would certainly do a thorough job of eliminating that feeling. For me, one of those things is tow in surfing and the other is a new one, only ever done once, called "Glacier Surfing", which entails hanging on to a jet ski in freezing cold water while waiting for a glacier to crumble enough to create a massive tsunami which you are towed into on your surfboard. Surfing a 25 ft. - 50 ft. wave is crazy enough when you're in the ocean, but when you surf a massive wave that is generated by an eroding glacier, in 30 degree water no less, you really need to have one foot in the loony bin. I'd have to imagine that if I died doing something like that I'd be pretty satisfied with how I went out. At the very least, my adrenaline would certainly be spent. Then again, my last thought could be "You freakin' idiot..." or something along those lines.

Anyway, I'm going to sign off, but before I do that I'll leave you with two pieces of video. The first is Teahupoo (pronounced Cho-Poo), Tahiti. It's one of the gnarliest waves in the world and breaks in about 2-5 feet of water. This particular wave is Laird Hamilton on what is considered one of the craziest rides ever. The second link is of two big wave surfers from Hawaii, Garrett McNamara and Kealii Mamala, attempting and succeeding to ride a tsunami wave ("only" about 15 ft.- 10 ft. high) created by a glacier breaking apart. Enjoy this craziness:

http://youtube.com/watch?v=NcaZarxilJQ&feature=related

http://youtube.com/watch?v=mKRR9RMmcIQ


TWF

Ron Paul

No writing today folks. Too busy watching football and enjoying the fact that it's already almost Friday.....damn, 4 day weeks are grand. Anyway, I wanted to leave you a few links about Ron Paul. For those of you that don't know, Ron is a Republican candidate for the 2008 presidency. Now before I lose any of you liberal readers, you should know that my beliefs are pretty far off from what most Republican politicians believe and vote on. I do not generally vote Republican. Still, from what I can tell, Ron Paul is exactly what we need in office right now: a man that we can trust and who sticks to what he believes, which is typically just plain logical. Everything I've heard him say makes sense. Feel free to disagree with me, but I encourage you to at least have a look at these links. At the very least, you'll end up with more knowledge than you probably had about this candidate before reading this. Feel free to tell me I'm crazy. At least that will show that you care, which is more than can be said about a large portion of our nation. Here you go:

http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Ron_Paul
http://youtube.com/watch?v=uyCoDbFVaJ8&feature=related

Business in the Front, Party in the Back

Alright folks? Hope everyone’s doing well today. I myself feel very good. Woke up a little earlier than usual this morning to give myself a little extra time to read and reflect and now I’m feeling much better because of it. The universe is magic like that. If you give yourself some quiet time each day you’ll get answers to the questions and issues that bother you. I know I’ve said this before, and if you’re wondering why the hell I keep repeating myself it’s because I’m horrible at heeding my own advice! For me, when something is bothering me I go through a cycle. First I start getting anxious and frustrated. Then, after much unnecessary stress (typically internal as I don’t show stress very often), I realize that there is an issue I need to deal with. At this point, usually at least a few weeks or months after I should have begun this step, I give the issue the attention it needs to be worked out via quiet time (reading, writing, meditation, etc.). And voila! Almost without fail, I have the answers I need to resolve the issue. There is a catch, though, and it’s something that’s plagued me all of my life. I’m really good at figuring out what the best course of action is for any given situation, but I tend to be very slow to act on what I know needs to be done. In simple terms: problem solving = good, executing action plan = bad.

You see, figuring out how to deal with life issues is relatively simple. You identify what the root of the problem is, decide what the ideal situation would be, and the solution comes soon thereafter. But the action plan, that damn action plan, is the difficult part because it often requires significant life changes. And we, as humans, are not big fans of change. It’s ironic, because if we’re able to look at the big picture (ie., further down the road than a few months) we can see that change usually brings about nothing but good. Personal growth, new relationships, great opportunity, more money and on and on the list goes. Why, then, do we run from change like a choir boy from a priest? It’s quite funny if you really think about it. Can you imagine if there was an almighty power that was trying to orchestrate a change to help you in your life, but you just kept avoiding it? How frustrating would that he for him/her? “Stop running away damn it! I’m just trying to help you.” I can imagine parents go through this quite a bit as they raise their children. Looking back, I can think of at least a handful of situations when my parents were clearly trying to guide me away from trouble, but the only thing I wanted to do was run straight into it like an idiot.

Doing things the easy way has never been my forte, which is pretty funny considering I’m always looking for the easiest way to do something (ie., shortcut). I can't help but laugh at myself when I think of it that way. What an idiot. Throughout my entire life I’ve tried taking shortcuts in spite of the clear fact that all I’ve ever experienced tells me that shortcuts only create more problems. How's that for some genius behavior……actually, isn’t that the definition of Crazy or Insane? Doing the same thing over and over and expecting a different result? Yep, that’s me. I’ll be damned. I could have saved myself a lot of pain over the years had I learned this lesson earlier. Oh well, better late than never. At least I still have most of my life in front of me and I know I’m better of because of the experiences gained.

Anyway, for those of you that are in a situation that you don’t feel happy in, job or otherwise, I found some very simple, yet direct questions on Yahoo.com this morning that can help you determine whether or not you should move on. After that, though, the action plan is up to you. The forthcoming questions were found here: http://finance.yahoo.com/career-work/article/103837/Should-You-Stay-or-Should-You-Go. For shits and giggles, and because I’m bored silly right now, I’m going to answer these questions for you all to read.

Do you want to go to work every morning?
I almost feel like this is a trick question. Do I want to go to work every morning? Are you effing kidding me?? Of course I don’t want to go to work every morning. I want to be sitting on the patio of my multi-million dollar home on Maui, sipping a Mai Tai with my wife and dog while writing about how great life is. That’s what I want to do every morning, Mr. asshole that created this question. Thanks for reminding me how much I don’t like what I actually do have to do every morning.

How many people in the world can really say that if given the choice to do anything they want for the rest of their life, they would keep doing what they are doing? Because that’s what this question really alludes to, isn’t it? I wake up every morning wishing that I could be beamed to my previously mentioned dream space because that’s what I really want to do. Next question please….


Do you enjoy spending time with your co-workers or do they generally bug the living daylights out of you?
Well, I have a blog partially because I don’t like what I do, if that tells you anything. But to be fair, my displeasure doesn’t have much to do with the people I work with. Aside from the fact that most of my co-workers are fresh out of college and act their age, I generally get along well with them.

Does your company help you fulfill your personal mission?
Hmm, let me think……N-O! In a nutshell, my personal mission is to make as much money as I can, doing something I can stay relatively sane while doing, until I can break out on my own. I know, it sounds like something like Dirk Diggler may have said as he sank deeper into his crack hole, but it’s true. My sole career focus right now is money, and I’m not ashamed to admit it. Now before I get branded a greedy bastard by you faultless folks, I should explain that I only see money as a means to an end. The “end” being freedom to roam the earth free and clear of any restraints that go along with getting my paycheck signed by someone other than me. So does the company I work for fulfill my personal mission? Not even close.


Can you picture yourself at your company in a year?
Sure, I can picture myself at this company in a year. I can also picture myself parting the Red Sea, but that doesn’t mean it’s likely to happen. If I’m still here in a year, I will be extremely surprised. Like little green men just landed in my driveway surprised. There are so many things that would have to change for me to be here in another year that I just can’t see it happening. For starters, I’d have to be making a good chunk of coin more than I am now and be A LOT happier with my day-to-day responsibilities. Most importantly, though, I don’t think I'd be being fair to myself if I stayed for another year. It’s clearly time to move on, freshen things up a bit, and reinvigorate myself. If I don’t, I’ll just be ignoring what my Self tells me is the right thing to do, and you can refer to the beginning of this post to find out how I feel about not acting on what I know is right.

That's all for today peeps. Here's a little gem of internet humor for you. I'm sure you've all seen this before (I was first made aware of it back in 1999), but like a few other sites I've shared it's a timeless classic. Enjoy....

http://mulletsgalore.com/

Awards are Good, Smiles are Better

G'day folks. I have a bit of bad news for you. No, no, I'm not going anywhere, but I fear that what I have to say may make you go away: I think I'm losing my ability to wax sarcastic. That's right. Not more than a week ago, I was able to put a satirical spin on just about anything that I experienced in life, but I feel that ability slipping from my once Bunyonian (I just made that word up....blogs are cool like that.) grip. Now, I know how tiring it can be to hear someone whine, vent and spit venomous diatribes on a daily basis, but I can't help it. I'm tryin' to keep it real in the 'hood, yo, and if I pretend that my view of the world is biscuits and gravy (mmm, gravy) I'd lose my street cred. So I'm just going to continue with what I'm feeling and hope you're all still visiting The Office Diaries when the sun comes out again.

There is something I'd like to mention as a bright spot in my last week. Last Thursday, I was given a nice award by a loyal reader of mine that also happens to author the witty and entertaining blog "I Love You Too Much" (http://gulfcoastmommy.blogspot.com/). She's a mother of two and leads an entirely different existence from my own, but her writing is fantastic and I can always count on a laugh when I take a few minutes to visit her blog. Anyway, I logged in to check out her blog on Friday and realized that she had given The Office Diaries the "Friendly Site Award." Details are still sketchy as to what this award actually means, but that's not important right now. What's important is that it was one of the few times after I left the house on Friday that I flashed a genuine smile. Anything that can do that for me is g-o-o good. As I've said multiple times, this blog was/is intended as an outlet for my creative energy as I grow throughout my life, but I'd be lying if I said that I'm not thrilled that I can entertain a few people along the way. So the enigmatic "Friendly Site Award" was certainly a bright spot in my life last week and a great motivator for me to keep churning out blog posts even when I feel less than stellar. Many sincere thanks to D from "I Love You Too Much" for her compliments.

The only thing I can actually ascertain about the "Friendly Site Award" is that I'm supposed to bequeath the same award to 3 other blogs. Unfortunately, I haven't really spent enough time reading other blogs on this site to properly assess who deserves this award. Plus, I hesitate to give someone an award that I myself am not real clear on. What if I picked 3 nice folks and their blogs and called them out on my site for recognition, only to find out that that the "Friendly Site Award" is sarcastic and means something more along the lines of "Your Blog is Only Marginally Better Than What my 3-year-old Brings Home From Pre-School", or even more direct, "Your Blog Sucks...Period. Keep Your Thoughts in a Private Journal."? Then I'd feel like a moron. I can imagine coming home after a long day and logging into my blog for a little release, only to have 283 hate-filled posts from the authors and friends of the blogs I gave the award to. "You have no soul!" or "I'm mentally challenged. How could you do that to me?!" Yep,that would suck. So, until I figure out exactly what the "Friendly Site Award" means and have spent a little more time looking at other blogs I'm going to have to hold off on passing on the award. I felt like I needed to let that be known so I don't get bad blog karma for not passing on good will.

So that wasn't so bad was it? I managed to get through an entire blog without bitching too much. Perhaps things are turning around. Then again, perhaps I have a bird crap on my head on the way to work tomorrow and get hit by a bus on the way back. Like I've said before, life can be a motherfucker.....


TWF

Vultures, Loss and Weapons in the Wild Wild West

The vultures are circling. One more soldier down and out. We recently took on a new Director of Sales and she’s doing a fine job of cleaning out all the good, tenured folks that once made this a good place to work. Like a god damn Neutron Bomb, she’s gutting the population while being careful not to touch the shell. The company will still stand and profit once she’s finished with her crusade, but the insides will hardly be recognizable. Truth no longer reigns supreme. Ego is in style and there’s only room for one.

Today's loss hurts particularly bad because it directly affects my payola. The guy that is leaving now is someone I would have been working directly with in my new position. As he prospered, so would I, but that was not to be. Now it's back to square one. What's the score and who's running the show? I need answers and a plan, and I need both real quick-like. Those who don't move with the current drown like polar bears in the open ocean looking for the next ice cap. Once strong, proud creatures, reduced to simply trying to keep their heads above water.

Fear not, my instincts scream. Stay the course and trust in the guiding spirit. Panic is the only sure way to miss the next stop. Poise is the weapon of choice. The loaded 12 gauge in the face of the beast that is change. Trust in your arsenal and don't be afraid to use it. Stay close and you'll know when it's time to shoot. And when that time comes, don't be afraid to unload every last round. That's right. Make 'em remember you were there.


Wild TFree

The Hunter in Me

Over the last few days I’ve struggled to maintain a positive outlook in the face of such frustration about my job. Once trusted colleagues are morphing into swine. Trust is scarce. Ominous overtones hover and fill the space between these walls. Change. That’s what lurks. Change is good, but why is it always so heavy?

Generally, I’m able to laugh off spells like this because I know that the future will be full of great experiences and wonderful journeys. Sometimes, though, I’m not sure laughter is the correct response. It feels like I’m in some bizarre Twilight Zone of an existence where most people are perfectly content living out their lives as drones, others are on the hunt, while I’m constantly seeking to manifest a grander experience. Where is the light at the end of the tunnel? What will I look like when I finish shedding my current “skin?” How to interact with the swine and not become prey? All are questions that require answers. And more questions.

It’s times like these when the great Hunter S. Thompson is the perfect tonic. He’s the bacon, eggs, coffee, sports page and tall glass of Chivas on a late winter morning. Total comfort. The world outside reduced to background filler. I read his work on dark days like today and I’m reminded that despite the drones and swine there is a whole different world out there, full of people that want truth and inspiration. People that aren’t satisfied with status quo and don't hunt people for sport. That’s my world; where my road leads at least. Now I just need to figure out how to get there, and stay……forever. The next turning point has been identified. The course, however, is uncharted.

One of the things I’ve learned from Hunter is that it’s OK to write about topics that make me angry, frustrated, sad or engender any other negative emotion. I’m a positive person and I tend to want to write about things that are funny. The problem with that is that life isn’t always funny and I’m not always in a mood to laugh. I’m learning that just because I’m not feeling jovial doesn’t mean that I should remove myself from the keyboard and forget about writing until my spirits are back up. After all, that would sort of defeat the purpose of me using writing as an outlet for my energy. I never did, no should I, say that writing is only my outlet for positive energy. Furthermore, I could certainly make the argument that I need writing as an outlet more when I’m not in the best mood. Sure, this blog is probably a more entertaining read when I’m cracking jokes and being sarcastic, but, dare I say, this blog isn’t entirely for the readers. Ultimately, if everyone went away and I never had another person visit this blog again, I would still faithfully type away. I think it’s actually becoming part of me, which could be good and bad, and often both at the same time. Regardless, it means something and that’s more than I can say about what I do for 10 hours every Monday-Friday.

On that note, I leave you with a few quotes from HST that fit my mood:

"I have a theory that the truth is never told during the nine-to-five hours."
Hunter S. Thompson

"The music business is a cruel and shallow money trench, a long plastic hallway where thieves and pimps run free, and good men die like dogs. There's also a negative side."
Hunter S. Thompson

Amtrak

I'm not really up to writing tonight, but I want to share a little bit of research I found regarding Amtrak to back up my claims from yesterday's post. From the sounds of some of these complaints, it sounds like I've been lucky. Nonetheless, the horrendous traffic on Southern California freeways will keep me riding the railways until I, probably inevitably, get completely pushed over the edge by Amtrak. I guarantee that when this happens, I'll look back to this post and wonder why I was such an idiot to tempt a Bush League company with an outcome that is a seemingly fate accompli, but like I said a few posts back, I'm a glutton for punishment and need to learn things the hard way....even when I have forewarning. Anyway, here you go:

http://www.consumeraffairs.com/travel/amtrak.html



Cheers,
Conductor TWF

"If you want a seat, get off and get on another train!"

Alright, damnit. Today, as is the case with many a Monday, has been a pain in the ass. I saw the world in Grey, people had scowls on their faces, and everything was either annoying, depressing or infuriating. Now that the workday is over, I feel much better, but I still don't feel entirely inspired to write. I really haven't the slightest idea what I'm about to type, but we'll see how it goes. Apologies in advance if this post is terrible. Regardless of the fact that I don't have a predetermined subject, I made a promise to myself when I created this blog that I'd make at least a small post every day that my free time is not totally booked, and I'm going to honor that.

I got back from Santa Barbara late last night on the train. The trip was great all around: good food, even better conversation and an overall enjoyable time with one of my best friends and his fiancée. But the juice of this recounting doesn't lie in trite details of my stay. N-O. This story, albeit brief, is about the fantastic folks of Amtrak.

First off, has anyone here ridden Amtrak recently, particularly in California? If so, maybe you can back me up on this. I swear, if I didn't know better, I'd think that every disgruntled employee who ever walked the earth, regardless of their past industry, has been hired by Amtrak and told to go ahead and let off some steam. "Absolutely," the hiring manager at Amtrak must have said, "the customer is your friend....until you decide that they're not. When that decision is made is entirely up to you. Oh, and by the way, feel free to be as obnoxious and loud as you'd like. G'head....push the limits. We're not that interested in the happiness of our clients." Those comments, although obviously fictional, are a tiny, yet accurate reflection of Amtrak these days. What was once a hassle-free, peaceful way to move about the country, is now tantamount to traveling with 5 kids under the age of 10 (yes, I'm comparing the chaos of 5 kids to that of 100's of adults), plus an angry elder. The passengers are frustrated and antsy, and the conductors are aggressive at best, ranting over the loudspeaker about how the train is "standing room only, so DON'T BE SHY. IF YOU'RE SHY, YOU SHOULDN'T BE ON THIS TRAIN." Really? You're OK telling people, some of whom paid $50 to stand shoulder-to-shoulder for five hours with hundreds of other poor bastards(and without any warning that it might be that bad), that if their personality doesn't fit what you like they can get off at the next stop? Seriously? That's your customer service policy? Or how about this gem of an announcement: "If you have ANY of your personal belongings on a seat next to you, WE WILL IMMEDIATELY sell you that seat at full price AND give it to someone else." To me, that's where the conductor is just getting way the eff out of line, not to mention making illegal claims (could they really charge you for an extra seat AND proceed to give it to someone else??). I can understand that Amtrak wants to discourage riders from being weasels and "holding" extra seats just so nobody sits next to them. Those types are also the ones that cut in lines and are liable to take all kinds of other shady liberties to serve themselves in public gatherings. They should be tossed off the train if they pull that kind of crap after being properly warned, BUT that shouldn't mean Amtrak conductors should assume all riders are weasels. At one point, the conductor got on the loudspeaker, gave the normal pleasantries (read: taunting warnings) and said with some satisfaction that they had just "thrown two people off the train" (I wouldn't be surprised if they literally threw them off either) for "not obeying the rules." At that point, I was far past giving these Amtrak yahoo's the benefit of the doubt and was half expecting to be thrown off myself for something silly like putting my foot one inch past my paid business class seat zone or getting up to use the restroom....at all.

Ironically, this type of behavior by the Amtrak employees made for a train that resembled the Wild West more than it did an orderly, calm transportation service. Some people seemed to think that if the conductors were so aggro they would certainly accept some loud, obnoxious behavior from the passengers, which turned out to be an accurate assumption. Some of the loudest passengers also happened to buddy-buddy with the loudest conductors. It was not the most peaceful 5ish hours, to say the least. I can easily say that I've never seen such disregard by employees of a service company towards those they are supposedly serving. What a pathetic display. Unfortunately, though, it wasn't bad enough to cause me to drive the I405 on a Friday and Sunday for my next trip to Santa Barbara. Traffic really can be that bad here in SoCal.

So that's pretty much it. I hate to sign off after doing nothing but venting, but the train ride part of the trip was that bad. The sad part is that Amtrak is only going to get worse before it gets better. As gas prices continue to rise, more and more people will choose the train over any other form of transportation. And as our Hitleresque conductor said, "Folks, this train is run by CalTrans. They want as many people on this train as they can get. If you are in Coach, your seat says 'unreserved', which means that you are only guaranteed TRANSPORTATION, NOT A SEAT. If you want a seat, GET OFF AND GET ON ANOTHER TRAIN." I kid you not, she actually said that. At least she was being honest. If you have any similar travel stories, I'd love to hear them.

Cheers,
TWF

Peace and War

Off to Santa Barbara today, so I probably won’t be providing all two of you loyal readers with any material this weekend. Not that anyone will really notice, but I somehow feel compelled to give bloggerville some warning when I won’t be around. So there. You’ve been warned.

One other quick thought: I’m listening to a song called “Hands Held High” by Linkin’ Park. I’m not a big Linkin’ Park fan by any stretch of the imagination, but the lyrics of this song are pretty heavy and make you think. They talk about various things, one of them being young soldiers losing their lives fighting for our country in a war that is confusing at best. I’m not going to get into a political diatribe here, but I have to say that it’s unbelievable to think that there are soldiers, young kids really, that are dying each day for us. I know we can see it on the news and read about it in the paper, but do those forums every really drive the point home? I’m guessing that for most of us they don’t. We’re so insulated in this country that a war half way across the world almost doesn’t even exist. At least that’s how it is for me most of the time. Anyway, just wanted to throw out a reminder to be thankful for what we have. Regardless of your opinion on the war, remember that it is actually happening, and there are young men and women putting their lives at risk every day, giving up their own freedom and dying for you and your family and millions of others that they don’t even know. Would you be willing to do that? I can’t say with any certainty that I would. If you can relate to what I’m saying, download the song I mentioned above and spend 5 minutes paying your own quiet tribute to those that are risking their lives for you. It’s the least we can do.

Happy Halloween? and Jimmy

I’m only halfway through my day in this wonderful office and there has already been enough unintentional comedy to keep me laughing for a few months. For starters, there are about 200 grown adults dressed up in all sorts of childish costumes. We’ve got one actually wearing diapers (thankfully over his pants), others covered in aluminum foil and a few more cross dressing. Why is this ok in a business office? It’s not like we’re teachers working with kids, for God sakes, although I did see a few super sweet teacher sweaters. You know the kind, right? Those thick cotton sweaters with reindeer, pumpkins or some other holiday festive symbol that protrudes from the sweater. The really cool ones even light up or even say something, but only a select few are lucky enough to snag ‘em each year. I have one of my own to wear at my friend’s annual “Turtleneck and Sweater” party, but at the office?? When these people looked in the mirror this morning they really said “Yep, that’s the shit. I look sweet”, or something along those lines that would allow them to feel good about themselves while looking absolutely absurd in front of 300 co-workers? Really? Really? Wow, that’s so bold in so many wrong ways that I’m dumbfounded. I suppose I should be used to this by now with 31 years under my belt (6 or so in an office), but each year it catches me off guard. At least the costumes give me an excuse to actually laugh out loud at someone without them being offended. They just kind of look at me with a shit-eating, oblivious grin assuming that I’m stoked on their get-up. “No, pal, the people who aren’t dressed up in children’s clothing and things you can only buy in sex shops are laughing AT you, not with you.” I’d love to say that, pat the guy on the shoulder and just walk away, but I’m not a cruel person by nature. It does make me laugh just thinking about the sense of self-awareness that would probably come over them at that point, though. But you know what? The Costume Crew’s blissful ignorance is a good thing. If I looked that stupid I’d want to be completely oblivious too. So go get ‘em Super Mario, Paris Hilton and all the rest of you costumed freaks. Enjoy your one day of shameless self-promotion/idiocy, because when those company pictures start circulating and you don’t have that monster $20 costume contest reward, shame will come creeping up like a thief in the night and you will pray to God that the end of the day will come ASAP so you can go home and hide. And you can bet that the next time I see you in the hallway I'll remind you of your moment of glory.

Now before anyone takes too much offense to what I’m saying (that includes you, person reading this in the “Sexy Kitten” outfit - you just wanted an excuse to dress like a slut), let me be the first to admit that I’ve certainly worn enough ridiculous clothing in my life to crack my entire office up. Just not to work. Acid wash jeans topped off with a nice little turtleneck….check. Z Cavaricci….check. Big ‘ol Jackie O looking glasses with a red wife beater/tank top through the streets of San Francisco……aaaaaand, check (at least I can blame the last one on my party days when my head was a tad cloudy). Yes indeed, I’ve run the gamut of sartorial taste.

When I first left San Diego for San Francisco, which for those of you not familiar with both cities is like going from suburban sheltered to effing freak show, I needed to break free from past peer influence and explore myself. And explore myself I did. Odd clothes, piercings, tattoos (my last one made a baker’s dozen/13 - All easily hidden with most short sleeve shirts), you name it, I’ve tried it. Well, I should clarify. I have never “played for the other team.” Not that I look down on anyone that does, to each their own, but I thought my story was starting to trend down the wrong path. San Francisco, crazy clothes, lots of experimentation, “hmm” you must have been thinking, “where is this leading Mr. man? Do you have something you’d like to tell us?” Well, the answer is no. It’s not like that and it never was. ‘Nough said. Anyway, I left San Fran after almost two years and moved to England where my tastes toned down a touch and fell more in line with the rather “Vanilla” English culture. God bless the English, but they aren’t typically too worried about style. They all wear mostly conservative T’s and collared shirts with Jeans. I’m pretty sure the only rule is that they have to be able to get piss drunk in any given outfit. If a piece of clothing fits within that rather large parameter, it’s good enough for them. Yes indeed, the English love their drink, which makes for quite a Jekyll and Hyde country. Have you ever known someone that is very quiet and reserved until they get a little booze in them, at which point they are the life of the party, then a monster and then face first on the first open piece of floor they can find? That’s pretty much the whole country of England right there.

I had a flat mate named James who was the poster boy Brit. When I first met him he was the typical freshmen student living away from home for the first time; timid, clean cut, and unsure of his surroundings. After 1 night of drinking he had already established a crazed, booze hound of an alter ego that I named “Jimmy.” Not the zaniest of nicknames, but he insisted on being called James, and acted like a James as outlined above. When he was drinking, though, he morphed into Jimmy and went buck wild, so the moniker Jimmy was actually a great fit. I was 25 at the time, living with 18-year-old freshmen, and it was quite fun having someone like Jimmy to toy with. The guy would try anything.

On a more serious note, it was a real pleasure to see a quiet kid like that come into his own. His growth became more important when we (the flat mates) came to find out after a night of heroic drinking that Jimmy had lost his mom to cancer not two weeks before he came to university. It was so sad. His eyes starting tearing up, understandably, and he almost lost it. I like to think that the support of our group helped him through what a terribly difficult time that must have been. Had I not been older than most people in college I wouldn’t have really understood the importance of situations like that, but I was fortunate enough to be at a point in my life where I still wanted to have fun, but also knew a little bit about life. It was almost like getting to do college over again.

What a great time that was for me...if it weren’t for me meeting my wife on a summer visit back home, I would definitely still be living across the pond. I loved it that much. But such is life, right? No regrets. As one of my blog buddies alluded to recently via a shared poem and blog post, the universe moves just exactly as it should. We are where we are for a reason, so it’s best to enjoy the present and looks for lessons and teachers that will help take us forward. To quote Ferris Bueller “Life moves pretty fast. If you don’t stop and look around once in a while, you could miss it.”

Well, I’d say that post could safely be described as wandering. Nothing like a nice, strong cup of coffee to get you on a rant. Anyway, here’s another random WWW link for your entertainment:


-This one is great. A guy that can’t stop laughing at the high pitch of the voice of someone he’s interviewing. Not sure if it’s real, but even if it’s not the thought of it actually happening is precious: http://vids.myspace.com/index.cfm?fuseaction=vids.individual&videoid=1760923 If that is real, I feel bad for everyone involved in that moment.

Music 'N Humor

“Love to see when ya groove wit da rhythm. ‘Cause I love to see when you’re dancing from within.”

Small sample of the words sung by Bob Marley in the soothing “Jump Niabinghi”, from the album “Confrontation.” Each time I listen to this song, I get chills on my spine and I smile from ear to ear. Ain’t music grand like that? The funny thing is that I don’t even listen to this song that often. It just happens to come on when I need a little lift. Like I said yesterday, Bob is magical like that to me. Whenever the world seems grey, all I have to do is put on the headphones, play a little Bob, and the grey turns into a rainbow of colors…..like I said, it gives me chills.

Oddly enough, considering my passion for the song, I’ve never done any research on the history/meaning of it, but I don’t need to in order to get what I need. To me, the lyrics I’ve quoted don’t refer to any sort of physical movement; rather, they speak to being in harmony with the universe, with your Self. That feeling you get (I do, at least) when you know deep down in your soul, without question, that life is moving along exactly as it should. It’s such a beautiful feeling. When you try to go it alone, life can slap you around pretty hard, but if you give yourself a little quiet time to reflect each day, things tend to fall into place. Now I’m not suggesting that everyone sit cross legged and chant (although if that’s what floats your boat chant away). Reflection/meditation/whatever you want to call it comes in many forms. Some paint, some write, some sing, some exercise, well, you get the point. Whatever it is that allows you to detach from the demands of your daily existence, the restrictions that we all directly or indirectly place on ourselves, do it…..a lot. It’s easy to make excuses and say that you don’t have time in the day, but you’d only be cheating yourself. Even 10 minutes each day can change your life. People search their entire lives for material things to make them happy, when all they really need to do is sincerely look within. It’s that simple. Don’t get me wrong, material things certainly make life easier, and I think it’s just fine to try to attract them, but I just don’t believe you’re likely to become materially rich until you’re whole within. It’s possible, but not likely. So Turn Your Lights Down Low, try to steal a few minutes for yourself each day, and see if you don’t feel better because of it. And remember, the more you practice, the better you’ll feel about yourself, your life and the world. It’s pretty obvious that the world needs all the positive energy we can generate.

If anyone is still awake after that rant, here are a few things online that I find humorous:
-Terrible Terry Tate: Office Linebacker, from the old Reebok commercials Here’s a link for your enjoyment: http://video.google.com/videoplay?docid=-6238953685626218421
Sweet Mary, that’s hilarious. “…you Kill the Joe, you make some mo!” Thanks to one of my best buddies, Jeffrey, for reminding me of Triple T this morning.
-Bud Light “Real American Heroes. In my opinion, even better than the “Real Men of Genius” ads, probably because most of them are too politically incorrect to have made the radio. My personal favorite is the “Mr. Silent Gas Passer”…..classic. Enjoy: http://contemporaryinsanity.org/audio-video/bud-light-real-men-of-genius.html
-The Bud Light aforementioned “Real men of genius” ads. I suggest Mr. T-Shirt Launcher Inventor. Here you go: http://www.budlight.com/index.html Click “Real Men of Genius” on the right. Some are funnier than others, but they are all super witty.

That's all I've got for today. Hopefully I got you to think and laugh all in one short post. If not, I enjoyed it, and that's all that really matters.

TWF

Me and Big Black

Alright, so I've blown my cover. The big revelation. Now all you crazed fans can hunt me down because you've seen my face. BFD. It's not like I'm a secret agent. Wait, what's that sound? Ah, yes, that's the sound of none of you caring. Thank you. Thank you kindly. NOTE: I removed my picture from this post on the off chance that a co-worker would come across this blog and get me fired.

Anyway, I wanted to put this picture up because I absolutely love my guitar. Love it, love it, love it. My wonderful wife bought if for my birthday last year (it was a replacement/upgrade for my first guitar, which was a Classical piece of crap that my Pops gave me) and my love for it has been increasing ever since. I even like to smell it. Wait, did I just write that. Oh well, too late. Come close, though, I'm going to let you in on a little secret. Something that may make you think "poser" or "kook" or something along those lines.....I am absolutely TERRIBLE, I mean clear the room horrible, at playing guitar. You know the scene in "Ferris Bueller's Day Off" when Ferris plays his flute like he's never touched an instrument before, and it sounds unbelievably atrocious? What does he say? He looks into the camera, with the confidence of a Caesar and says "Never had one lesson." Effing hilarious! That's me, though. I play guitar with the blissful ignorance of a 2-year-old hitting a drum kit like they're freaking Jon Bonham. The sound is something even my mother wouldn't compliment, and I know it, but I still have the time of my life playing it. When I break it out, my dog, bless her, looks up at me like "Ah, c'mon Pops. Give it up already", and then she sighs and walks to the farthest room possible. The beauty of guitar, though, at least for me, is that I suck at it, but playing makes me feel good like not much else can. The only other activity I can think of that's like that is Surfing, which thankfully, I'm much better at, although still fairly bad.

That's it. Short, completely random post, I know, but I'm done. Just had to share that with you, like it or not. To steal another quote from Ferris "You're still here? Why? Go home...."


TWF

Mondays are Good for Music and Writing

There’s no way else to put it, Monday’s are a bitch. I can say with absolute sincerity that I can’t remember the last time I woke up on a Monday morning without having butterflies in my stomach because of the dread I feel toward going into the office (I’m sure it was whenever the last 3 day weekend was). I swear, there must be some super duper magical force that gives me enough strength to get out of bed knowing I’m going to the office, because the fact that I’m able to do it 5 days a week is a minor miracle. The scary thing is that the more I write and pursue other outlets for my energy, the harder it is to accept working in this black and white job. I want to make it clear that I know there are many of you who probably have it so much harder than me it’s not even funny. I feel for you, but hey, pain is relative, and I can only take care of myself….and my wife….and my dog, but that’s it. Your humble author has his hands full keeping his own life full of positive energy. Go trick or treat somewhere else because my “house” is all out of “candy.” Using that analogy, if I was actually a house, and someone did stop by for candy, I’d be the old grumpy guy that gives out toothpaste or raisins instead of candy. I always hated that guy…..

It’s not all doom and gloom, though. On most days I’m fortunate enough to have at least a few hours to write. A nice result of my transition back to sales is free time. I can’t actually start fulfilling my new responsibilities until we hire a sales manager to backfill for me, and in the meantime most of my sales management work has gone away, so I’m lucky to have a little time on my hands while I’m in the office. It's odd, as soon as I told the team I would no longer be their leader, all the questions and issues that they used to bring to me magically disappeared. Huh. You don’t say. You mean, these grown adults, armed with college degrees, can actually figure things out on their own? Really? All by themselves? Somebody get a hold of Guinness right this very minute. We must be setting some sort of world record here. In all seriousness, the fact that they always came to me with questions clearly speaks to a lack in management skills on my part. Apparently, I was giving them too much fish and not teaching them how to fish. No wonder the office stinks. Too much seafood. Bada bing! Thanks folks, I’ll be here all week.

Back to something with a little more substance. Hopefully I haven’t driven you all away due to my sophomoric humor. One thing I can always count on to raise my spirits is music. Thank the universe for music. Without it, I would probably be locked in a padded room, eating lots of apple sauce and taking the little bus on daily field trips. Reggae has always been particularly soothing to my soul when I feel out of sorts, Bob Marley being my preferred artist. Bob’s intelligent, soulful music has been part of my life since I was 11 or 12. He has a way of singing about extremely serious subjects, while providing a voice that makes me feel comfortable. Whether it be his early Dance Hall influenced tunes like “One Cup of Coffee” and “Judge Not” or his later, more spiritually charged work like “Natural Mystic” and “Jump Nyabinghi”, I can actually feel his presence through every song. It’s a beautiful feeling and something that has put me at ease during numerous difficult times. Recently, it’s been getting me through many a long morning in my cube. So at least I've got that goin' for me.

I could, and likely will, devote an entire post to music, but that will have to be another time. Right now, I need to open up a spreadsheet, look busy, and stare at it until I can get out of Dodge.


Cheerio,
TWF

Viva Los Chargers!

Hallelujah! My beloved Chargers, those of the best record in the NFL last year, are back in form. With the 35-10 home shellacking of the Houston Texans today, after a week of wildfire distraction no less, they are back on track to be a force come playoff time. For 5 games this season, all Charger fans were forced to watch a team that wore Chargers uniforms, but were merely a shell of the team that went 14-2 last year and should have ended up in the Super Bowl, or at the very least in the AFC Championship Game. It was terrible and conjured up memories of every San Diego sports failure over the past 50 years.

It seems that every time there are expectations attached to a San Diego sports club, the team folds like the Argentine army in '82. It's uncanny how much of a guarantee that is. And when there aren't any expectations, the teams just plain stink. There is absolutely no middle of the road for a San Diego sports fan. None. We fans are either given great hope, only for the team to get slaughtered when it matters most, or they are the league doormat, getting walked on by the rest of the league. Yes indeed, pledging your allegiance to a team here in SD is tantamount to giving up hope of ever being part of a championship celebration and saying "You know what, I think I'll just pick a city to support where I know I won't ever have to worry about buying all that knick-knack sports title memorabilia." It's awfully satisfying, let me tell ya. Yeah, satisfying like a kick in the nuts.

Before this season began, I tried to tell myself that although the Chargers have arguably as much talent as anyone else in the NFL, there is no guarantee that they will waltz into the Super Bowl, as some pundits had alluded to. Still, my instincts told me that the odds were stacked in our favor. Those of you that are avid sports fans know how it works. When your team has high expectations to start a season, you mentally go back and forth between belief and doubt. With every article you read, you get psyched up about the upcoming season, but the lingering pain of past disappointment forces doubt into your mind. No matter how much you try to tell yourself not to get into a vulnerable position by believing too much, you still are, at heart, a fan that wants so very badly to win a championship. Therefore, it's impossible to remove yourself from the freeway of despair. You just stand there, eyes closed, hoping that instead of the 18 wheeler of pain crushing you like a fly on its windshield, you'll be embraced by the sweet angels of glory and whisked away to championshipville. And here in San Diego we've never had a major sports championship, so the mere thought of seeing the Chargers win the Super Bowl almost brings a tear to my eye. I'm not a man that cries very often, but I've told my wife that if (hopefully, when) a team in San Diego takes the ultimate prize she will see me cry. I doubt I'll ball like a little girl with a skinned knee, but there will be some welling, possibly followed by a trip to the restroom where I can let it all out in peace, without having to lose my dignity. Like I said, when I actually take a few moments to project myself to a place in my head when the Chargers have won the Super Bowl, I start to get a bit teary eyed. I've made the mistake of letting this happen at work once or twice, and it was pretty uncomfortable. I spent 30 seconds trying to dry my eyes and figure out what the hell I would tell one of my employees if they saw me with tears in my eyes. Thank God nobody actually saw me in this pathetic state, but if they had one of my distant relatives would have died a horrible death, at least as far as the person I was explaining to was concerned. Pathetic.

So that's life as a San Diego sports fan, people. I'm thrilled at how the Bolts are playing right now, but who knows what I'll be saying after next week's game in Minnesota. The team will be favored to win, so there is certainly a let down possibility, but I remain optimistic in the face of everything I've seen in the past. Call me dumb, call me naive, but don't call me apathetic. Go Bolts!

Winds of Change

Lately, I've been very much aware of a higher energy guiding me through life. Everything I do, say and hear seems to lead to more growth. If I didn't already hold firm to my belief that we're all part of something much larger than our lives on earth, I'd be awfully tripped out by this phenomenon. As it is, though, I know that this heightened awareness means change is a comin'. I really feel like I need to take advantage of my connection right now, follow every hunch, pay attention to all of life's details, so I don't miss any signs meant to guide me on a new path. Because that's what I've been seeking for a while now; a new path.

I think we all go through periods of our life when we feel like we've completed what we were meant to do in that given period and we get this innate sense that it's time to move on. Some of us take notice of these signs and some choose to ignore them and end up stuck in a rut. I'm certainly struck with that sense right now, and I'm going to side step the rut. A new acquaintance said today that he's like a snake shedding its skin. I find that a perfect analogy for where I'm at right now. The skin serves a purpose for the snake for only so long, much like situations only serve people for relatively small periods of time. If you keep doing the same thing over and over, you start to lose your sense of self. Precious details become blurred, your senses numb and you shift into a state of auto-pilot. That's when you know you need to shed your "skin" and start looking for change. Otherwise, your whole world is likely to turn black and white.

Where the universe is taking me right now, I don't know, but I know it's going to involve something much more creative than what corporate America has been feeding me. With that said, and despite all the frustration I've expressed in past blogs about my current job, it certainly has taught me a lot. I've learned heaps about business, what makes less creative folks tick and most importantly, a lot about what I don't want to be doing. You see, I'm the type that has to learn things the hard way. I'm rarely able to look at a situation and know for certain that it's not a good fit for me. No, no. That would be far to easy. I like to jump right in and experience the good and the bad, regardless of warnings. It may make for a longer road to my dream space, but I'm beginning to learn that all the obstacles and victories along the way are helping build a solid foundation for who I am, and who I will be. Jason Lee's character in Vanilla Sky says something like "The sweet wouldn't be half so sweet without the sour." I didn't really get it at the time, but that's one of the most pure truths in life. You can still enjoy life without experiencing some pain and difficulty, but you've got nothing to compare your happiness to. If you've never known anything but the sweet that has to temper your sense of satisfaction. If you've bought the ticket and taken the ride, experienced the ups and downs of life's roller coaster, you can look back on the ride feeling satisfied that you've really lived.

I'll hold back on rambling on any longer as I've got to catch up on the day's sports highlights and finish the last 100 pages of Hells Angels, but I will say that I'm looking forward to the next section of my roller coaster, the next chapter of my book or the next act of my film. Call it what you will. I know I'll be a better man by the time the next wind of change blows through.

TWF

The Great Dichotomy

So I've just returned from my Mexican escape. The "Firestorm of 2007", as the quasi-expert meteorologists/newscasters have dubbed it, had driven me from my humble abode, and loyal Heineken elves (see a few posts below), for the better part of 5 days. Now before you all start feeling sorry for me and my wife, let me make it clear that my house was far from being engulfed in anything resembling a firestorm. Ash was falling like rain on a winter day in Hanalei, that much is for sure, but the only thing that was even remotely fire-like in intensity at this house was my excitement at the thought of the office being closed for a few more days while some beast of a disaster had its way with greater San Diego County. I know, I know, the sympathy you felt for me a few seconds ago is now morphing into disgust, but what the hell. I'm not going to lie to you. When an event occurs that gives me a chance to bolt the confines of hell, er, the office, I'm all over it like white on rice. So as soon as the fires began moving westward towards my neighborhood, one thought came to mind: "Viva Mexico! Let's visit Mr. Pharmavet and get some tequila, and sharpish!" And so it was. The news recommended that everyone in my town pack up a leave, and leave we did. Some go to shelters, some to friends' houses, I go to Mexico. Why sir, would one leave America's Finest City for a third world dump that people risk life and limb to leave, you ask? Well, I'll tell you.

You see, Mexico, and the Baja Peninsula in particular, is a hidden gem. Sure, you can get shot, stabbed, raped and robbed, all in the same day if you're really dumb, but those are minor deterances. Let's talk benefits. Ah, the benefits. For starters, the place we stay sits perched on a cliff that rises 30 feet above the majestic Pacific Ocean. A jacuzzi is positioned in the back yard overlooking the beach, perfect for watching sunset, drinking beer and doing whatever your dirty little mind conjures up. There are only 2-3 houses on either side of the property, so even when there are neighbors present, which there rarely are since this is a vacation rental development and not many people reside there full time, you feel like you are in your own world with your own rules. And you know what I think about creating my own rules now....sehr gut, herr doctor. Or as my little Hispanic hosts would say, "Muy Bueno."

Now I could go on and on about the house and all of its amenities, but that would really belie the point I'm working towards. The beauty of Mexico, what really puts it at, or near, the very top of my list of vacation destinations is this: everyone is so effing lazy and very little, if anything, is seen as an urgent matter (aside from Soccer, which I also love). That's right. I just said that I love a country essentially because it's people are inherently lazy. Now before you start writing me hate mail and calling me ignorant, let me explain what I mean.

You may or may not have heard the term "Manana." In Spanish it means "Tomorrow," but when applied to Mexicans it refers to the attitude the indigenous people have towards life in general. There's just no great sense of urgency to get things done and it creates a wonderful atmosphere of relaxation and a feeling that nothing really matters as much as society would have you believe. As soon as you cross the border into Mexico, you feel like there is nothing urgent in life aside from getting a nice cold cerveza in your hand as soon as humanly possible. What better attitude could you hope to gain when you need to retreat from reality? I've traveled the world over and I can say from experience that no other culture I've seen has mastered the skill of apathy (yes, apathy is a skill when applied to certain situations) quite like the Mexi's have. It's quite amazing, really. They enjoy life and make the most of it by not caring. Essentially, they care by not caring at all. It's freaking genius. On paper, that concept makes about as much sense as a grown man in drag riding a Harley, but it works for them, and that's all that really matters.

So when I say that Mexicans are lazy and don't really care much about anything, it's true, but it should also be taken as a mighty fine compliment. Mexicans may not be on their way to world domination, unless you define world domination by tequila and refried bean consumption, but they do know how to relax, and host those that are looking for the same vibe. I don't go on vacation to take on someone else's damn agenda, and I sure as hell don't go on vacation to be busy. I go on vacation to forget about life's worries and do anything I please, which usually entails some variation of beer, art (music, writing, film, etc.) and being as sedentary as possible. For those things, Mexico is a small slice of heaven. Author's Note: This last trip to Mexico was not intended to be a vacation, but, well, like I alluded to, it's hard not to fall into vacation mode when you're in Mexico.

A word from the wise, folks....escape. Allow yourselves to escape. Whether it be a trip to Mexico, a trip to your own favorite destination, or simply an "escape" into the pages of an engaging novel or lyrics to a great song, just make sure you escape. Often. Life, although beautiful in small doses, can be a motherfucker. If you don't have a safe place to go, physical or mental, you'll end up mental, and that's not fun for anyone. Now go find your happy place and get right with the universe. It's needs your help.


TWF

A New World

This evening, I began to investigate life outside The Office Diaries. In other words, I decided to leave the cocoon of my own blog to check out what else is out there. It's not that I've been so self-absorbed that I didn't care what else exists in blogger-land, it's just that I really had no idea how many other areas in blogger.com there are. This is partly because this isn't the most user friendly site in the world. Um, wait, please don't erase my blog, Google. I do appreciate you letting me blog for free and all. I'm just surprised that a cool tech company like you can make a site that is so consistently difficult to navigate.

The best blog I've come across so far is this: http://gulfcoastmommy.blogspot.com/2007/10/its-in-my-eye.html. This person has a great writing style. She's got a way of writing about random, every day occurances and turning them into hilarious stories. Sort of reminds me of how I like to write. I hate to use cliches, but the classic "truth is stranger than fiction" is spot on. I've learned over the years through journaling that you just can't make up some of the stuff that happens in real life and expect readers to believe it. You just can't. Life is too much of a "trip." You can, however, take a story that you've been part of and/or seen, embellish it just a touch, and get a great response. The secret lies in realizing that people are in fact "characters." If you really pay attention to what people do and say, and how they act, you'll notice that it's tough to create a fictional character that can be as entertaining as anyone you come into contact with each day. Any good writer, and I'm certainly not labeling myself a good writer, is extremely observant. Personally, I've always thoroughly enjoyed people watching, but I've only recently realized that I can put that semi-obsession to work for me. Now if I can only get my 183 other previously useless "talents" work work for me, I'll be rich.

What the F%!*?

More from my world:

-I love strolling into the office in the morning, minding my p's and q's, only to get absolutely bombarded with questions before I can even set my keys in my lovely cube space. It's unbelievable. You'd think that all 11 of my team members have been huddling together, thinking of questions to ask me at the very moment they see me, and not a god damn second later.

-Heineken is such a wonderful, sumptuous gift from the heavens. The beautiful green bottle, so enticing when it's ice cold. I've got a great little beer fridge in my Man Den (story for another time), but I just don't think a refrigerator does the Green Bottle justice. I imagine such a wonderful beverage should be delivered by little Man Den Elves. I wonder if they're in season with Christmas Elves? Perhaps they could live in a small, yet luxurious dwelling (any being that maintains the Green Bottle deserves a first-rate abode) behind the fridge in the Den. That way nobody would know about them except me, and my Fridge would always be stocked with "happy medicine." Plus, when I've had one too many Heineken's, the elves could scurry out from their little factory and cover me with a blanket, all while making little elf noises like the miniature dudes from Spaceballs. Yes, indeed. That's the life right there.

-By the way, if anyone reading this knows of a place that I can get paid good money to write my random thoughts, I'm all ears. What a freakin' awesome job. I could get jacked up on heaps of caffeine every day and write about all the weird people/things in the world. Then again, why would I want to do something that will leave me satisfied for 10 hours a day? If I'm being honest, the office does have all my favorite things: staplers, envelopes (and they're free!),printers, reports, bosses, cubes (oh, how I adore being confined to a cube), elevators, reception desks and all the quirky people and awkward conversation a guy could ever hope for. It's like heaven, only it looks and feels much more like hell. Quite the dichotomy.

-Thursday nights are cool. I know I've only got one day left in the work week, I feel like I can stay up and play a little longer than other weeknights, and I'm assured of a plethora of quality TV like "The Office" and "My Name is Earl." Plus, during this time of year we're blessed with all kinds of good sports. We've got the baseball playoffs, football season is in full swing; what a beautiful time of year. I can literally spend days on end in the Man Den, and if my wife would let me, I would. I'd plant myself in there, stock the fridge with Heineken (the elves would re-stock when I ran out), and watch sports, play guitar and blog until the year 2063. Like Howard muthafuckin' Hughes! Trust me, a few hours in the Man Den and you'd think that dude was a freakin' genius. Why, pray tell, would you want to leave the friendly confines of the Man Den when you've got everything you need right in front of you (and I don't even have a super sweet mansion like Hughes did)? I suppose I'd have to call for delivery, but that's a minor inconvenience. After a while, I wouldn't even have to talk to the delivery place. They would just look at caller ID and know exactly what I want. I could maybe just grunt to confirm my order, leave money outside the door and the guy could leave me and my food in peace. No, in all seriousness, I would never want to be that much of a hermit. I'd at least be friends with the delivery guy. Bada bing! I'm telling you, people. You all think I'm nuts, but build yourself a Man Den and you won't be disappointed.

Random Thoughts

A few random observations/comments from today:

-I saw the raddest, most bodacious set of 80's bangs today while I was driving on the freeway. They were so awesome that when I saw them I had to do a double take, and then I immediately wanted to listen to Bon Jovi or Poison and put on some ass tight, acid washed jeans. It's always refreshing to see someone that absolutely resists forward progress.

-The "big" announcement I made to my team today about leaving management was rather, how should I say, uneventful. When I broke the "news", the team looked at me with with mild interest for about 1 split second and then it was more the look of "you brought me in here for an early morning meeting to tell me that, asshole?"....which was pretty sweet for my ego.

-I wonder how long I can go on writing this blog while knowing that nobody is reading it? If a blog is written and nobody reads it is it even a real blog? On the positive tip (I learned that word listening to hip-hop...yo), Kerouac wasn't a very well known writer when he was in his prime, so, um, maybe I'll be super well respected after I croak. Wait. What good would that do me? I want to be well respected (read: rich) now, so I can waste money on blow and hookers. Did I write that? I meant flowers and diamonds for my wife. Hi honey.

-Life's a bitch. 99% of us are working in a job that we don't like. Sure, I pulled that statistic out of thin air, but I'm sure I'm not far off. What does that say about where our world is headed? No wonder there is so much conflict. If most of us are unhappy doing what takes up most of our time, how the hell are we supposed to do anything about the problems we face (Global Warming, wars, genocide, etc.)? I'll tell you how; more Heineken. That's right. Keep your fridge stocked with Heineken, so when you have a bad day you can at least come home to a fridge full of cold, green bottles. Have enough of those, and your outlook on life becomes a lot brighter. On that note, I'll bid you all adieu for the evening.


Cheers,
TFree

Winds of Change

Tomorrow is a big day. I will be telling my team of 11 sales people that I'll no longer be their manager, effective as soon as I can trick someone else into doing this terrible work. I'm not super fired up about having to make myself the center of attention by breaking "news" about myself, even if only for 10 minutes, but I'm extremely excited about the actual change. I am so over being a corporate slave, masquerading as a sales manager, that I'm ready to go postal on anyone that dares utter a "happy Monday" or any other term that should be limited to satirical TV shows like "The Office."

Speaking of "The Office", what a fantastic piece of comedy. After living in England and consequently having an allegiance to the British version of the show, I never thought I'd be as into the "Yank" interpretation, but I must say, this show is top class. Not only is it well written, but the subject matter is something that I can relate to, and I'm hoping the two people that read this blog can too (otherwise I'm fucked). I pray to the universe that most of you don't have co-workers and a boss as unbelievably idiotic as the characters on this show. Admittedly, this fine blog you're reading was spawned from the ideas I get while stuck in an office that resembles "The Office", but at no time have I had to deal with anyone as mentally challenged as the character Michael from the show. Shit, maybe it would be better if I did have a boss like that. Then I wouldn't have to embellish my material.

Cheerio folks. I'll be back tomorrow for more, um, entertainment?

Monday Fun Day

Just a smidgen of sarcasm in the title of this one. Yep, juuust a touch. I'm sitting at my desk right now trying to pretend that the drizzly, cloudy day outside isn't as perfect for staying at home as my mind keeps trying to tell me it is. It's days like these that my brain, bless it, goes into overdrive trying to come up with excuses for me to get out of work. It's amazing how creative the mind can be when you get it in your head that you don't want to do something. If I had to create a math equation to explain the heavens and the earth to get out of coming to the office, I'd have it done in 10 minutes, tops.

Here's a little peek into my wonderful world this morning: I enter our office space on the first floor and take the stairs so I don't have to pretend I give a crap about anyone I might have to share a 10 second elevator ride with. Coming at me in another direction at the bottom of the stairwell are two developers. I know that they are developers because when they see me they look to the floor, wall, ceiling and anything but me so quickly that you'd think I was Medusa and they would turn to stone if they saw my eyes. Nope. Social folks developers are not.

Anyhow, I get to my desk and try to position myself in a way that suggests "piss off" to any of my team members that might come to me with a question. Just when I've sunk in nice a comfortable like, opened my "The Wicked Wit of Winston Churchill" quote book and begun the process of trying to avoid work, I get a request over Instant Messenger from one of my team members to approve something (the authority to approve certain requests is something that sounds good to prospective managers, but is actually just another responsibility that takes up time and causes people to badger you). I duly give my approval and then comes the reply that is like Monday, the actual day of the week, slapping me in the face....front hand and back hand: "Happy Monday." Happy Monday? Happy Monday?! Are you f*&%#!*$ kidding me? Who says that? I thought "TGIF" was unacceptable, but at least that farce of a term refers to a day we all like. Happy Monday? I was literally lost for words,which isn't something that happens to me very often. What's so happy about Monday? Pray, tell. All I could muster was a "you too", even though what I really wanted to do was go grab her by the collar and shake her around a bit, maybe slap her once or twice for good measure, ala the classic scene from "Airplane." G-o-o-d G-o-d. I really thought I was crazy, but now I'm beginning to think I'm one of the big fish in the increasingly small normal pond.

This is what I have to deal with on a daily basis. For all of you other poor people that go through the same ridiculousness, I feel your pain.

The Great Unknowns

That's the name I've given the 2007 NLCS. I mean, are you kidding me? The Arizona Diamondbacks and the Colorado Rockies playing for all (actually, just half) the marbles. A chance to go to the world series and play a team whose roster doesn't look like a collection of names from the witness protection program (Troy Tulowitski, Matt Holliday.....are you kidding me!?). Has there ever been a more anonymous group of Baseball players playing for such high stakes? Sure, there have been plenty of random teams to play deep into the "tournament" (the 2003 Marlins and 2005 Chicago White Sox come to mind), but never have two so called "Cinderella" teams played each other to go to the World Series and/or play in the World Series. Sure, the D-Backs had been the NL West Frontrunners since early July, but can anyone name more than one player on the team (and if you're thinking Brandon Webb, the 2006 NL Cy Young award winner, that barely counts as a guess)? And what about Arizona? Who can look themselves in the mirror and say that they knew anything about this team before they won 16 of 17 games in late August through September to erase a 6 game deficit, while in third place, to force a one game playoff with my beloved Padres? That's right, none of you can. I bet nobody even knows how they won the one game playoff against the Pads (it was a blown save by all-time great Trevor Hoffman. Thanks for making me relive that nightmare).

Do you see what I'm getting at, here? Neither do I, aside to say that not only do most of you not care about this series, but neither does anyone outside Arizona and Colorado. I don't have the Nielson Ratings, but I'd guess tonight's game was watched by all of 40,000 people, and that's being generous. The sad thing is, aside from the ratings, I told my buddy Jeffe that this would end up being one of the best series' ever. Oops. Judging by the weak play and 5-1, Colorado scoreline, I'm thinking I'd really like to retract that statement. This could very easily be a Colorado sweep with no real competition. I know first hand from the Padres' misfortune that the Rockies are a team of destiny right now, if there ever was one. Nothing can go wrong from them and that should have the rest of the playoff contenders shaking in their spikes. If Colorado finishes off Arizona, Boston or Cleveland are going to have some suicidal fans come World Series end. But then again, it's not like those cities have passionate and tortured fans or anything. Poor bastards.


T