Forty-seventh posting - cameras

Friends,

As of January 1, Marie Antoinette and I finally will have something in common. I have kept this a secret from most of you, but I’ve been aspiring to be more like her for years. I didn’t expect it to come as a result of a myopic corporate decision, but at the youthful age of 37, the head of the former Queen of France was severed from her royal body – just as I will be “severed” from my current employer at age 35. It has been a good run (5 years), and my severance package is far better than the Queen’s, but I leave behind many good friends, a free gym, Frank the cheap barber, and a nice company store discount.

So what’s next, you may ask. There are several paths I can take. The easiest but least desirable would be to go to an equivalent big consumer packaged goods company. There are lots of marketing jobs around, and I could probably swing a promotion out of it, too. But I’d probably be faced with the same challenges, albeit with diapers or cranberry juice or candy bars, rather than cereal or kids drinks.

Another option would be back to the nonprofit sector. Again, there seem to be quite a few positions out there – most at the VP level – but at this early stage, it’s hard to tell if these would be great jobs at great organizations, or crappy jobs at great organizations with great goals. I’ve applied to several (all in DC except one in San Fran). The funny thing about the job descriptions is that it’s obvious to me when a traditional brand marketer has written them. Marketing jargon is almost like a separate but familiar language. Not good, not bad, just different. A colleague showed me a great website – http://www.idealist.org -- that compiles jobs in an easy to read database.

Option 3 would be another company, but one whose interests better match my own. Something outdoorsy, or organic/natural, or adventure travel, or cycling-related. I’ve send resumes for open positions at a few familiar companies all around the country… Enough about the job stuff. I get 6 months to figure this out, and you’ll hear more of it later.

What I really wanted to tell you is that I have been asked to serve a 5-month term on my condo association’s board. Yes, the same old-old-men-with-nothing-else-better-to-do board. They invited me back to last week’s meeting, and my nomination/election was Miscellaneous Agenda Item No. 17. Same delightful cast of characters: turtle-necked lisper as President; t-shirt wearing crumb-eater; meticulous board Secretary; and paper-shuffling Man #4. Unfortunately, Mr. Blueberry was not part of the meeting.

I missed the first half-hour. The boys did save me one salami sandwich with extra salami. Fortunately, instead of ordering from Jose’s House of Onions, this meal came from Steve’s Salami Shack, and I could swear that the bowl of pickles and potato salad were resting on glistening slices of salami.

At the last meeting, we discussed proposals for a security camera system in the building. Although it wasn’t completely clear to me that there was a security problem, I didn’t feel like it was my place to ask about (nor did I really care about) the system. What I discovered at this second meeting is that these bored, bored men really wanted to spy on who was coming and going into the building. As far as I can tell, there is nothing sick or deranged about them (no cameras in bathrooms or under Welcome mats), but it turns out that all of them have been coming into the board’s room to watch footage, particularly what happens late at night.

During the meeting, the lisping President sat in front of the computer with a hand-written list of dates/times that he wanted us to review. The old men came in closer to watch other old people come in and out of the building. Some carried bags of groceries, some had backpacks or briefcases, and some had nothing at all. All were very very ordinary. Painfully so. Nevertheless, even the crumb-eater, this time in a 1980’s era Denver Broncos ACF West Champion shirt, hobbled in close to check out absolutely nothing.

At one point, Man #4 commented that he had witnessed a stranger passing a plain manila envelope from outside the building to apartment 1H, at approximately 2:05 in the morning. The camera would also show the same person coming into the building 15 minutes later. Adjusting his turtleneck, President located the footage, and we watched a man walk into the building. That’s it. He did not produce a sign and show it to the camera that read: “I am doing something suspicious.” After reaching for another piece of salami, I innocently asked if we were violating any privacy laws. I might as well have asked if these guys thought the retirement age should be raised to 80. Mr. Meticulous then produced a key to the board’s room and handed it to me. I quickly put it away, vowing to never ever use it.

The last item on the agenda was the building’s holiday party. After a ten-minute debate on who was storing last year’s expensive menorah, it was decided the board would host a potluck in the lobby (as has been done since 1978) in mid-December. There was a motion to request that Mr. Blueberry bring his famous “punch” which got a rousing SECOND from around the table. The group couldn’t decide on an appropriate Kwanzaa decoration for the lobby, and the board tasked Mr. Meticulous to make a recommendation at the next meeting. If I haven’t slit my wrists by then, someone shoot me. Just don’t do it in front of one of the security cameras….

Happy Thanksgiving! NATHAN

Forty-sixth posting - Dr?

One of the most difficult aspects of being a writer must be the constant threat of writer’s block. (If it is this easy to not write something, I should probably take “writer” off of my future vocation list.) It’s not that I haven’t had a million and a half subjects flying through my head over the past week or so… I think that my situation at work has taken a toll on a greater proportion of my thinking than just the time I’m at the office.

Anyhoo, today I had a dentist appointment. Some background first: Dr. C. and his wife, also Dr. C., started a practice together ten years ago. Keep it in the family, they thought. Both were straight up dentists – nothing fancy like cosmetic surgery or teeth whitening back then. Four or so years ago, the receptionist at C & C Dentistry got a little friendly with Dr. C., the husband, probably at a “conference.” This friendliness became more intimate, and the Drs. C. parted ways, leaving Dr. C, the husband, with the practice, which became C. Dental, and leaving the receptionist with a huge rock on her finger and a twinkle in her boss’s eye. Now Dr. C can make your teeth whiter and your gums bigger, and find a little action on the side for himself, too…

This morning I was a few minutes early to my 8:50 appointment. In the dental world, it’s bad luck to have appointments start on the hour or on the half-hour. Just kidding. I said hello to a different receptionist, who said, “Have a seat, Nathan.” I then read the paper and some of the Economist before realizing I’d been there an hour already. I was sitting ten feet from the front desk, but the place was busy, so I figured they were running late. Ten minutes later a troll of a woman comes in with her Goth daughter, sits down next to me with a harrumph, spots the TV’s remote control on the table and turns on the TV to Montell Williams. My annoyance level quickly escalated when I heard the subject of the show was something like Women Who Can’t Leave Bad Relationships. After less than a minute of the mother and daughter chattering, “I can’t believe she’d stay with that asshole,” and “He’ll get what he deserves…this show don’t leave you hangin’”, I walked to to the front desk and told them I’d been there for almost an hour and a half, and that I wanted to reschedule my appointment.

Immediately I got apologies coming from everywhere, and I didn’t yell (I don’t know if I’m capable of yelling, to be honest), and one receptionist blamed the other. I wanted to ask which one was sleeping with Dr. C. now, but I didn’t. So I’m going back next week for another tortuous morning. Next time, I hope someone actually looks at my teeth before I leave…

NATHAN