Didja ever have a really bad day at work?

So there you are, doing your job. A job that you are actually really darn good at.

I mean, people *know* you are good. You’ve been recognized for your accomplishments.

And so you’ve been called again to take on that big project, that big customer, that big case.

You go about your business like a professional. You rally your support team. You create strategy. You execute on that strategy.

And then, for whatever reasons, the stars weren’t aligned right or someone failed to do their part or just gall durn bad luck, you make a mistake.

Not a huge mistake, but a mistake. It’s the kind of mistake you’ve made before on other deals, and this is a particular mistake you really hate to make. But ok.

This mistake feels worse because it is made on a really high profile project. Meaning more people know you goofed up and the effects have a lot more impact.

But it’s still a mistake.

You’ve made this mistake before and you and your group have recovered from it. It’s a mistake made by all of your peers in other companies at one time or another.

Everybody doing this job has made this mistake.

It is inevitable.

Mistakes happen.

We all make them.

Sometimes they have unintended consequences.

So this is what I was thinking, yesterday, as I listed to local sports radio station KNBR with their wrap up from the Super Bowl.

If you didn’t watch the game, I’ll fill you in. Peyton Manning threw for an interception in the fourth quarter that was returned over 70 yards for a touchdown by the New Orleans Saints.

Most say this was the nail in the coffin for football’s biggest game. That one play.

Callers to the radio station came pouring in to cry foul. To state, for the umpteenth time, that “Peyton choked!”

That he’s not the great quarterback that everyone thinks he is. That he blew it. That it’s all Peyton’s fault!

In a game that lasts four quarters at 15 minutes apiece with who knows how many individual plays, that one play was it, huh? That was the deciding moment?

I’d personally say it was the onside kick recovered by the Saints after the half that was the game changer. The momentum shifter.

There seem to be only a few comments about Colts Hank Baskett’s inexcusable case of brick hands in that moment. (Baskett, born and raised in Clovis, New Mexico. Our proud NM tradition continues on!)

But Hank isn’t the superstar. Hank isn’t the guy we built up to near god status so we can tear him down. His mistake is “just another day on the job.” But Peyton, oh Peyton.

He’s the villain.

Then when a dejected Manning walked off the field at the end of the game and didn’t shake anyone’s hands, now he’s a poor sport.

And apparently a loser and a jerk

And then there is this bit of conspiracy theory, that Peyton helped the NFL fix the game.

Hoo boy.

I guess I come down on the same side as the author of this article.

“One lousy throw is one lousy throw. It’s not a career-ender.”

Those of you who have never made a mistake on the job, raise your hands?

Didn’t think so.

(I figured a little Billy Joel imagery might be keeping in theme with The Who halftime show…you know, old dudes still rockin’? Plus there’s that whole “people who live in glass houses” thing….)

XLIV

Oh fine. I did it. I watched the Super Bowl.

I’m not really a football fan. Baseball is where my heart is at.

But hey, there we were at football’s big show, the best of the season, right? So why not watch.

I’d only intended to watch the commercials, and to be honest, it started out that way. I was working in the back room, ignoring the game. I’d listen for the break and trot out there to see what was doing with the commercials.

Damn it all if those Saints didn’t pull me into the game. I started watching a few minutes here and there. But then Peyton and the Colts would dominate again, and I would wander to the back room.

Then there was halftime. That Who abomination. Ugh. I watched all of that. I mean, the Twitterverse was lit up with comments about the quite elderly rockers, so I paid attention. Time I won’t ever get back in my life…

Disgusted, I gave up once more and went back to my little office and back to writing.

Much better back there.

But then there was that onside kick after halftime. That did it.

I was in.

That, and The Good Man suggested we get some Amici’s delivered. Pizza does always make me docile and want to sit low on the couch. So I gave in.

Belly full of pizza and disinclined to move around much, I watched both game and commercials for the entire second half.

Then there was the interception heard ’round the world. I’ll be damned. This was actually a really good Super Bowl. Well ok!

In the final analysis, I suppose it was worth my time to give XLIV my attention.

However, the game was way, way better than the commercials this year.

Check out hulu.com if you missed ’em. (Trust me, you didn’t miss anything.)

My brief commercial round up…

1. Too slappy (What is this NCIS show and *why* do they hit each other so much?)

2. Weird and unflattering use of little people (And isn’t Kiss even more aged than The Who?)

3. Too many tighty whities. Really, boys, if you aren’t going to wear pants, have the good grace to wear boxer briefs. I’m asking nicely.

Or is the emasculation of men the new “in” thing?

Rude, I say.

And so there you have it. My Sunday in a nutshell.

Onward to Monday, a day that began with stumbling out of bed and stepping into a puddle of a cat barf. Yay.

But thankfully, no tighty whities in sight.

(um, no)

The Irony of the Internets

Oh mighty interwebs, how you amuse me with your advertising and your behind-the-scenes formulas for placing the right ad on the right content.

And so, as I was searching for a delicious, yet not healthy at all, soup recipe, I found this.

Yeah, so given the choice of whatever torture, pill or unguent I have to endure for the “tiny belly” or to nosh on homemade cheddar beer soup, I’m gonna go with the soup.

And the beer. One for the soup, one for the cook.

This old dog learned a new trick

At Christmas, my husband received a gift from his step-mom. He unwrapped it and exclaimed, “A Ray Harryhausen collection! Honey, look, we got a Ray Harryhausen collection! Wow, thank you!”

And I was like, “who?” My sweetest is an educated film guy, so I figured it was some obscure director of strange and dark independent films. So I said, “hey, great!” with a shrug.

Who knew I was TOTALLY missing out?

Well, in my ongoing film education (The Good Man is keeping a list. I’m working through it….) he popped “The Seventh Voyage of Sinbad” in the ol’ DVD player while I was eating lunch one weekend afternoon.

Yeah baby! I figured out just who Ray Harryhausen really is. A master of creating amazing creatures in stop motion animation.

The stumbling roaring Cyclops from the late 1950’s is every bit as creepy today. In fact, in a lot of ways, I actually like that better that today’s over CGI’d movies.

Wow, so ok, I was intrigued.

At the end of the “Seventh Voyage of Sinbad” DVD, there were some special features. One was a bit about when Harryhausen got an Oscar (presented by his best friend, Ray Bradbury. What a pair they must make!) and at the end of Harryhausen’s speech, Tom Hanks comes onto the stage to bring on the next award.

He makes the segue by saying, “I know for some people it is Gone with the Wind or Casablanca, but for me, it’s all about ‘Jason and the Argonauts‘”

I looked at The Good Man, “Well we have to watch that next, then.”

And so we did. We watched as Jason and his merry band of Argonauts fight a huge bronze statue of Talos come to life and, oh man this part was cool, a whole army of sword wielding skeletons! Skeletons! I *love* skeletons! They clacked and grimaced and fought. Aw damn, how very cool!

Then we watched “The Golden Voyage of Sinbad” and I remembered that I saw this movie, most likely on TV, with my big brother back in the day. I remembered the blue Shiva with swords in all the arms. (and let’s talk about the very naturally endowed Caroline Munro. Rowr! It’s so rare to see an un-surgically enhanced actress anymore.)

And finally, we had to get to the must see film because, well, it’s set in San Francisco. This is all part of my SF film education.

It Came from Beneath The Sea.” Yeah baby!

What the movie lacked in dialogue and story (and it lacked A LOT), it more than made up for in great animation.

Oh, that angry squid snapping the top off the Ferry Building and wrapping tentacles around the Golden Gate! Whoa! And that far-reaching tentacle slapping down Market Street, squishing unsuspecting citizens!

Good stuff!

So okay. I’m up to speed on Harryhausen. I watched the Dirty Harry movies. We did the Hitchcocks set in SF (hello Vertigo!).

I’m excited to see what’s next in my ongoing edjumacation!

Siiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiigh

The Good Man giggled when he brought the mail in the house.

*hee hee hee* I heard him, sneaking up on me.

Why? Why would such a nice man be so cruel?

Wanna know why he was snickering?

Because I received THIS in the mail:

Oh fine. California has instituted the “one day or one trial” rule of jury service. Much better than the days when you were “on call” for a whole week.

The Good Man was giggling especially hard because just a couple weeks ago HE was on the hook for jury service. He called in and wasn’t needed, so he’s feeling pretty darn good about himself for the next 12 months.

Oh well. Just another of the joys of being a grown up.