Office Spaced


Linked in is nagging me with the fact that I haven’t written in sometime. It’s not that there aren’t things going on, just a lot to digest. The main one for me is a transition. I’ve relocate professionally from a revered nonprofit and a great job to the great unknown. While there are enticing challenges that lie ahead, it’s a little bittersweet. The last time I joined a big corporation with serious buying power, the president was taken away in handcuffs fairly quickly thereafter. This, friends, was not a good omen. But on my second last day at the nonprofit, I got to pet a rhino. That sort of thing happens at the new gig, that might be an issue.

But I have reason for optimism. This is my first job change in sometime and certainly unusual in that I’m leaving one great experience and moving to another, with chances to incorporate and actually build on what I’ve developed over the past 7 years. While it’s a little weird for me to see my pending vacancy online while I’m still in the chair, I’m glad and proud at what I’ve been able to do. That’s said, it’s exciting to start thinking about what’s next, writing the “new book” as Jed Bartlett used to say on “the West Wing.”

I started this particular entry some time ago and it’s been sitting unfinished as I have jumped into my new job and settling into something of a routine. Your day starts a little earlier. Your commute takes longer than playing “Stairway to Heaven” on the car stereo. You’re getting the lay of the land at the new place both on the physical finding the coffee and the bathroom levels and on the are we cool with the group that runs the new shop. And just how glad are they to see you.

It’s funny the little things that change with a new work culture. For years, the bridges that linked Buffalo to Niagara Falls were a sore spot with me, hate em. The ongoing construction project nature made me really dislike going over them, but after hitting them twice a day for two weeks now, I’m taking them like a road warrior, changing lanes and doing what you got to do.

It’s the little things. With any kind of work, it takes time to find your voice and where you can chime in and I’ve always been a little bit impatient with that process, but writing it here is a good reminder to breath, and if the traffic gets like that scene in the opening credits of Office Space, where the guy with the walker is making better time, turn up the tunes and smile, smile, smile

 

The Beaten Path


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is kind of overrated. If there is a more spiritually soothing way to shut the world out for a bit, it’s a walk by the water. While the beaches aren’t ready for swimming just yet, (hell, it snowed not too long ago), it was very therapeutic to get close to the water. Two workers were literally combing the sand for the sunseekers to come. There were a couple of us who couldn’t wait.

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The endless winter did leave a few interesting carvings behind.

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It was good to be outside, in the sunshine, and with no particular place to go, so the beach at Woodlawn State Park and the areas in the Outer Harbor were a good place to walk, and put into practice how good it can feel to not have a shoe on.

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There’s a little beauty everywhere

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It’s just in knowing where to look

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Wandering…it was good for this soul.

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“After school is over…”


Education is the silver bullet. Schools should be palaces. Teachers ought to be making six figures salaries”

That was part of a pretty high minded speech from one of the admittedly high minded characters on the West Wing. It was one of the shows that I admittedly had a problem, never missed it. But that piece of dialogue had a point.  I got myself over and made sure I voted in the school board elections in the City of Buffalo on Tuesday. I don’t pretend to know all the answers by any stretch of the imagination, but the school board has some issues that could spill over into volumes.  With one child still in the system, I’m keeping my eyes peeled for sure. He’s in a good school that is working and his mother and I are grateful for that. But the world is a different place than when our eldest entered the system 20 years ago. I don’t know how many parents remembered the magnet system and it seems to have slipped the minds of a lot of the board folks. I am not philosophically aligned with some of the more public folks screaming for reform, but you got to admit, they have a point. This thing isn’t working. There are teachers doing incredible work against staggering odds and the winds aren’t going to start blowing in their favor anytime soon. That is a tragedy. Because that is where things matter.

Perhaps it is getting looked at “behind the scenes” but there doesn’t seem to be much urgency in fixing what is failing. The rush to transfer has created another problem in the whole “where do you transfer them to?” I mean let’s fix stuff too, not just relocate problems.

Voter turnouts are always low and that’s too bad, because I don’t think folks realize what all that means. If the schools have a lousy reputation, the district run by the keystone kops, the ramifications are huge. If a business is trying to recruit talent, “what are the schools like?” is a question that enters into any discussion. If the answer is “a mess with administrative infighting over every little thing,” getting folks to come to anyplace to work and live is that much tougher.

When the town I grew up in had a bit of a fit about a proposed school tax increase last year, a tax increase that would have been resulted in a rate that is still among the lowest in the region. Cuts funds and something has to give. As usual it was stuff for the kids.  Nobody likes increases but stuff does cost monies. We all want to see those funds spent well. A quality school system is good for the town or city that it covers. Lord knows the abuses that have come to light and will come to light in the months ahead. I have friends teaching in the system and they have to cope with the effects of “No child Left behind,” twisted evaluative systems, kids that come from homes that might not have school as a priority.

So, I don’t know what exactly to make of the Buffalo elections last night, but the winners are correct in that there is a lot of work to do, a lot of words being spoken about how they got to do right for the kids.

Hope they mean it.

 

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Powering down…


I spent some time in the early 2000s as a “reboot monkey,” helping folks with their then new high speed internet connections. As jobs go, it was what it was, a way of keeping the bills paid. It popped back into my mind last evening, specifically this one guy who called and wanted to scream about all this stuff in the computer and “what your man put in the computer.” It turned out the computer was fresh out of the box and was loaded with all sorts of goodies for the new owner. The internet connection just opened the door to all these things. After he yelled at me for the requisite amount of time to feel manly,  we got things squared away, shut some things down, and he was online.

It came to mind last night as I am in day 4 of new phone ownerhood. The previous phone logged a couple of busy years and it was one of those windows I could afford to spoil me.  After 3 days of electroshock therapy from it flipping like a dead fish, and making a schmuck out of me, I was becoming one of those people, instead of periodically looking to see if it was a kid calling, it was anything and it was ridiculous and I apologize to anybody and everybody during that period. The almost ten year old reboot story came to mind and provided me with a sense of direction as I stripped the phone of the preloaded nonsense, quitting foursquare, yelp, aboutme in the process. There wasn’t anything come from it, just imagined connections, that haven’t mattered and weren’t going to, and were insulting to anybody who was actually there in the now.

So, notifications are off, as they were making me an idiot.

As they don’t matter, never mattered, all that it accomplished is that phantom buzz in your calf from where the phone was unnecessarily buzzing in your pocket. I thought I had this largely beat, having beaten my previous device into semi-silent submission, but sometimes you have to go that extra step to remember what is important and admit that you might just have an issue.

I don’t know if that stuff stems from uncertainty if you matter and getting too needy or social inept to make real connections, you take on whatever one you can get.

But as the noted philosopher Bill Murray once noted (in the climatic scene to the classic “Meatballs“), it just “doesn’t matter.” In this case, it’s the 4square check in, fb post that caused annoying buzzing.

I was asked if I got a tweet at lunch today, and it was actually good to say “No.”

Step one…

 

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Used Cars


So, I just completed that daunting task, that least liked yet most desired of consumer transactions, the buying of a car.

I think people generally like the experience of acquiring a new car, but everybody is wary of what goes into that point before you get to drive away. It should be simpler. It really should. You shouldn’t have that sense of dread or just how much can I keep from getting screwed mentality. It should be easier to get to that point where you can relax a bit instead of being on guard, on edge against the haggling on an epic scale mentality.

Purchasing should be less gimmicky and less prone to nonsense.

Now, I got a nice car and a good deal, and a warranty to boot, but the stuff you have to go through to get there is pretty ridiculous.

I left my key so my 2005 Corolla could be appraised and was taken on a nonsensical tour of all the service bays and other rooms that accomplished nothing. We came back and I asked for my key for my car. “Well, Mike, let’s look at the deal…”  By this point I had told them what I could afford for the car I was interested in, and asked for my key again. The manager comes down to talk to me (Without my friggen key) and wants to talk more. I’m fine with talking but enough of the foolishness and faux ransom. I told him one more time what I could afford. If he could do that, we got a deal. Because the theatrics took so long, it went dark and there was no longer anybody for him to talk to, and as result, he tells me he will contact me in the morning and on the FOURTH request surrenders my key.

I head home and begin the next day at my office, morning goes by, nothing.  2pm and the guy who was going to call me “in the morning” didn’t specify as to which one he was referring to is off, but he told the guy who is on duty.

Yeah, sure.

The original sales rep calls up with an offer. It bares no passing resemblance to what was discussed the night before. I, by this time, have no problem being every bit the snide jerk back to them and in my best angry dad voice, remind them of where my line in the sand stood, the previous night’s best offer. The salesman, who had no idea about the car, say he’ll try “to work that miracle for me.”

“if I can complete that Hail Mary, can I call you?”

Yeah, sure, especially since we agreed to that LAST NIGHT!!

Now, he didn’t know the car, and that’s fine, you got a lot of em, it’s a lot to keep track of, but a little honesty. If you don’t know something, say so, don’t keep talking and let your voice trail off with every sentence. I’m not a rocket scientist, but my bullshit detector is running pretty high. I mean I’m a parent, I can tell when a tale is being woven, nearly told the guy to ask his mother.

Done, and done, but wait, there’s more.

We have to go talk about “accessories.” Again, don’t switch off the bullshit detector. Deal is done, but they want to know if I want an overpriced aftermarket remote starter, floormats, serial number etchings, etc.

No.

Then I get to fill out the customer survey. I couldn’t do it without laughing. If you looked around the dealership, I expected to hear the Yakity Sax music from Benny Hill playing.

A good car and ultimately a good deal, but good thing the nonsense was affordable as there was lots of it.

It’s no wonder we all like cars, but nobody likes buying em.

Usherman


Usherin…got my chips cashed in…

There are some places at certain times where you can get an interesting insight into the human condition, where you can study without being studied. Patrolling the aisles at the local professional lacrosse game the other night was one of those times. I’m a sports fan, but this one doesn’t do it for me. So, I guess that makes me a more attentive usher since the game isn’t distracting me (yeah, we’ll go with that for now.).

Look up in the aisle, it’s Usherman…able to leap tall drink spills in a single bound.

I knew this most recent game was going to be interesting to watch unfold. A promotion had autographed lacrosse balls for sale to raise monies for a worthy cause. A family appeared in my section where the grandfather produced the autographed ball and gave it to his granddaughter, a little moppet of maybe four years old. She accepted the ball and considered it for a moment, duly looked at the signature as her grandfather pointed out, thought for a moment and prompted tossed the ball down to the section beneath ours. This usher? I thought that was funny.

There was the t-shirt gun. I’m convinced it’s the hunt that gets folks going, not the actual trophy. This was confirmed to me as the Bandits‘ mascot brandished a t shirt gun that had some wallop, and turned a few folks near me into searching for “the precious.”

A recent balloon drop had me shaking my head as folks in the upper levels were jumping in the first row of the upper level to catch a balloon that had a coupon inside. Again, the prize was for something not so rare. It’s the hunt that is the thing. But I can’t walk in that first row without getting the proverbial willies.

So, I have to ask, the chance at a not rare souvenir something to take a foolish chance over? I think not, but people forget themselves, and that they are not alone, or at home, or the manners their parents carefully taught them.

It’s priorities, man. I remember a few years ago, my dad and I were heading to see some minor league baseball and there was a giveway that night, I believe a stadium replica in some fashion. One of those little desktop size statues that was produced with the same level of care and detail that the average 4 year old puts into their playdough houses. But again it was the hunt. Folks lined up around the block as there to be one admissions gate where the freebie was going to be distributed. This line snaked by plenty of other ways into the stadium. Dad and I looked at each then sought higher council, as seats, beer and grilled meat in tubular form was decidely more important.

So, yeah, I don’t get too jazzed with the fast food company blimp flies over ahead and drops coupons, because that isn’t worth putting the effort to, well, stand up for, let alone post up to keep somebody else from getting one.

But if that suits ya, have at it, as at least the cost of the seat didn’t rise with ya.

Well, this time

 

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Cleveland Rocks


Yep, Ian Hunter was correct. Even though the Rock and Roll Hall of Fame only rarely does their inducing in Cleveland, the museum is great fun.

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You can take photos but some are kind of challenging. Witness the display case enveloping Mr. Garcia’s guitar below.

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But there are indeed friends around every corner.

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This guitar was one of Muddy Waters’

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I’m pretty knowledgeable about my music history in general terms, but never saw Elvis play a doublenecked guitar.

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But even here, Bill Graham is watching.

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And there are more folks waiting on you.

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(as the flood of pictures on my FB feed will attest)

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Time it right, however and the sun does shine over the wall.

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Thanks for having us, Pete

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Yeah, I’ll be back. Perhaps the Hall should have their party there once in awhile.