Forty-fourth posting - board

Lots going on, friends. My company is going through big changes and creating an environment of nervousness and anxiety in a place I once thought of as (almost) fun. Because it’s where I spend most of my time, it’s hard these days to be the optimistic, up-beat guy I usually am…

I will share with you, though, something I did outside of work that was as funny as it was painful – my first condominium board meeting. Picture, if you will, a small basement room in 5-story brick apartment building. For those of you familiar with church basements and Sunday school rooms, this one was quite similar.

It’s 6 o’clock at night. Several old white men are in the room. Old like 70s and 80s. All are sitting on metal folding chairs around a particleboard table. Near the door is a small spread of what seems to be onion sandwiches, with extra onions on the side. There are detailed minutes from the prior board meeting on the table – with a nice green cover sheet created by one of the members who obviously cares about this kind of thing.

One man is running the show. He’s got a slight lisp and he is fairly soft-spoken. Black turtleneck, skinny, probably the youngest (60) of the bunch. Glasses down on his nose, and he looks over the tops of them to see. Likes to use the phrase, “Don’t go there…” and each time, I’m just waiting for a “…girlfriend!” to complete the statement.

Another man, not at the table but close to the cinderblock wall, is nodding off. He may be the oldest and the least interested in being there (for the first few minutes…until I accept that role). The condition of his bright orange t-shirt suggests a keen interest in crumbly food. It is difficult to read the words on the t-shirt, but it seems to mention something like, “Homey don’t know that.” I would be surprised if this man knew who Homey is or what Homey was supposed to know.

Third man – board secretary – is at the opposite end of the table. Meticulous fellow and a fan of cover sheets for meeting minutes. Has been a resident since 1958, when building was erected. Presents a log at every meeting that details his activities in support of building upkeep. Doesn’t talk much, but does make good comments and suggestions. Seems like the kid in school who runs for but doesn’t win election for Class President…but does the work anyway.

Man number 4 is second oldest and has a nervous habit of leafing through papers for something, underlining it, and then putting the papers back together in a single pile. Over and over and over… When a salesman from a security camera company comes in to talk to us about a proposal, Man number 4 demonstrates his awareness of the technology by asking about camera types, hard drive requirements, system capabilities. All good questions, if they weren’t already on the proposal in front of him….

Fifth man sits next to me, says two words the entire meeting but issues a series of grunts in agreement or disagreement based on the topic. I am unable to distinguish between the two, however, and hope others are better translators.

The evening’s highlight is halfway down the agenda – “L1 A/C Grievance.” Evidently, Steven, the owner of unit L1, legally runs a massage therapy business out of this unit but has a problem with temperature in the massage room. Not yet at the meeting, Steven is described as boisterous and long-winded, and it is recommended that this topic be held to a few minutes. I step out of the room to make a phone call, and when I return, a very large, multiple-chinned giant of a man is sitting in the chair next to mine. He has matching bright blue sweatpants and sweatshirt on – it is difficult not to think of an overstuffed blueberry – particularly with a slightly off-kilter toupee riding high on his head. To be honest, it is painfully difficult not to picture a meaty sweating Steven in this steamy massage room, so I try to pay less attention to him and his complaint and more to the neat stacks of meeting minutes on the table.

Lisping man number One is not helping by nodding and letting Steven babble on and on, unchecked by any of us. Man number 4 seems to wake up, probably because Steven’s booming voice is starting to shake his chair, and Fifth man’s grunting gets louder and louder. At this point, I have lost track of the discussion and the original grievance, but I feel like shouting, “Fix his damn air conditioner and get him the hell out of here!” The old men must have read my mind because a motion was moved and passed to do just that, Third man incorporated this into the official meeting minutes, and I ran out of there as fast as I could.

I suppose now I see why they’re called Board meetings – if it was spelled correctly, no one would show up.

Have a great weekend, NATHAN