Theme Song

Back in the day, I used to watch that show Ally McBeal. You know, the one about the skinny neurotic lawyer? The reason I got to thinking about that show lately has to do with my job.

I’ve been in the middle of frying pan and also the fire here at work. There is a LOT going on; notably a project that fell off the rails and I’ve had to step in to clean it up. Always fun cleaning up someone else’s mess….

Anyhoo.

What I used to dig about that show were scenes that showed the John Cage character, played by Peter MacNicol, standing in his office or the restroom trying to summon up his theme song. This was usually before a big case or a meeting where he needed courage. Or a date. The theme song changed depending on the situation.

Yesterday I stood in front of the mirror in the bathroom trying to summon up such courage. I’d been running late to the meeting, then the conference room my boss booked was too small, so I hoofed chairs from every other conference room so all the execs could have a place for their tushy.

Before we got started, I took a break to the ladies room to quite literally wipe the sweat off my brow, take a breath, and get my game face on. I knew I was going to be the only person from my company who would be a bit fierce with our under performing supplier. My boss told me straight up he is non-confrontational, and so in these cases, I have to do it. Which is fine by me, it just takes a certain frame of mind.

I needed a theme song to summon the courage, but seems the music half of my brain was failing me.

So this morning in a quieter frame of mind, I got to thinking…what is my own personal theme song?

For those times where I got to go in agro, usually the song I pull up is “Headstrong” by Trapt. The hard baseline helps, and shouting the lyrics aloud in the car on the way to a meeting is quite liberating.

They go something like “backoff I’ll take you on/headstrong to take on anyone/I know that you are wrong/and this is not where you belong.”

Yeah. Then I go in all “rawr!” and ready to take on the world.

On the days when I’m feeling like there is a black cloud hanging over my head (more days than I’d care to admit) my theme song tends to flow toward Stormy Monday by T-Bone Walker.

“They call it stormy Monday, but Tuesday’s just as bad/Wednesday’s worse, and Thursday’s also sad”

God I love that song, especially the John Lee Hooker version.

Back in the day when I used to have a really, really terrible boss (about five years back) and every day was a grind just to survive his insanity, I used to sing the lyrics to Fighter by Christina Aguilera (who I don’t usually like, but that song worked for me.) It was good to turn my adversity into gratitude.

“Made me learn a little bit faster/Made my skin a little bit thicker/Makes me that much smarter/So thanks for making me a fighter”

Then of course, during those good times when I’m thinking about The Good Man, it’s all about Johnny Rodriguez.

” ‘Cause your love put a song, put a song, put a song, in my heart/Never have I heard this beautiful music before”

Just puts a smile on my face thinking about it.

But for now, no time to be squishy. I’m at work. Back to Trapt.

“Backoff, I’ll take you on!”

Do you have a go-to theme song?





Image found at deviantART.com


In Defense of Frank Burns

Lately, I have been subjected to a series of long and longwinded meetings.

When my latent child brain is subject to boredom, fascinating things happen.

So, when someone in a boring meeting made a comment that reminded me of an episode of M*A*S*H, it got me thinking about the characters which led me to…

Maybe over the years, we haven’t given Frank Burns a fair shake.

Stay with me here. I have a reasoned argument to present.

Changing the point of view on this to second person to make it more impactful, here is my defense of Frank Burns and why we shouldn’t hate, but have empathy.

Here we go:

Take the characters and situation and place them in the real world. Imagine if you will:

1) You work a job that is both dangerous and complex, and you are responsible for human lives. Being a doctor is actually very important to you. That said, your two coworkers (who you are also forced to live with) are not only arrogant and disrespectful, they are also complete alcoholics.

And yet, despite being drunk a fair percentage of the time, including while at work, they are viewed as the fair haired boys. Your boss overlooks their obvious addiction and goes so far as to tell you to get over it when you bring their questionable behavior to his attention. And you outrank those two buffoons!

Deep down you know that you, sober as a judge, will never be as good a surgeon as they are while drunk on homemade gin. That knowledge chips away at your self-esteem every single day.

2) You date one of the hottest chicks in camp, which is a good thing. But as I’m fond of telling my guy friends, “dating a very beautiful woman comes with challenges.”

I mean, she IS smoking hot. Fer chrissakes, they call her “hot lips”…the trouble is, there’s been plenty of guys who have sampled those hot lips. Your va-va-voom girlfriend is a notorious flirt and will openly discuss her partying with generals and colonels around the globe, and you’re expected to just take it with a smile.

She expects you to be a good military man and constantly compares you to her legendary father. Then she lets your roommates slide on their non-military behavior because, she reasons, they are so good at what they do.

And you become acutely aware that this chick is WAY out of your league. A little neurosis sets in as you try to hang on to the hottest girl you’ll ever lay a hand on in your entire life.

3) You get zero support at home. Ok, yes, there’s that cheating with Hot Lips issue which means you are not without some blame. And yet, a nice word in the mail from the spouse would be nice. You’d like to think your own wife would be in your corner, but she’s not.

Neither are your parents. And you don’t have any friends. It’s a lonely old world stuck in a grimy tent with two hotshot lunkheads mocking your inadequacies on a daily basis.

4) People call you Ferret Face. To your face. It’s not your fault you were the big loser in the genetic Olympics and wound up with a weak chin.

5) Your hot girlfriend pressures you all the time about getting married. This, despite the fact that you told her from the start you weren’t looking to leave your wife. It’s a constant nagging pressure.

Then she goes off on R&R one day and comes back engaged so some big, tall, athletic bohunk with a strong chin and suddenly your only friend in the world is now off limits.

And this causes you to slip off your nut. You really do love the girl, but maintaining the girl has been more than a weak-chinned man can take.

6) If you can’t have love or respect, then it sure would be great to be promoted to Lt. Colonel. People would be forced to respect a Lt. Colonel. A Medal of Honor would be nice too. That would really shut them up.

7) You are probably an undiagnosed case of Aspergers, or at the very least are prone to vicious bouts of OCD. But you get zero sympathy. Meanwhile, the chronic addicts are lauded and celebrated.

It’s a pretty solid case. The more I think on it, the more I feel a little bad for hating Frank all of those years. Perhaps time has been kind to ol’ Frank.

You know, no matter what Hollywood would have us believe, in life, it’s never as easy as “that guy is the good guy” and “that guy is the bad guy.” We’re all the bad guy. And the good guy.

And Frank Burns is misunderstood.






Photo found several places on the net but unable to find attribution. Will include attribution or remove at the request of the owner.


That is SO Old School!

My sister likes to give me hell about my inability to get rid of stuff.

She *might* be right, but I’m not admitting to it here.

I do, however, have a very strong “cheap” streak running through me.

I can’t help it, roots of my raising.

So this cheap streak means that when I have a possession that has served me well and works easily, I tend to keep it. And use it. Use it WELL past its prime.

Behold, one such object for which I feel great affection.

My old school adding machine.

This item was procured for me back in the year of nineteen and ninety-seven.

It was a purchase made by the admin assistant to the Director of Procurement at the Lockheed facility where I was employed.

I had to prove to the admin assistant that the adding machine on my desk was truly broken.

She didn’t believe me.

It was quite a negotiation.

Finally, my wit and charm prevailed, and this little baby was ordered, fresh from our office supply vendor.

A brand new out of the box adding machine was unheard of at that Lockheed location!

My new possession featured typical ten key navigation. The choice of accountants and those who wear eye shades alike.

Oh yes.

I love this adding machine.

It’s been with me, my trusted friend, for THIRTEEN YEARS!

I loffs it.

I used to work at a hip, hot IT company. One of my employees who is cooler in her pinky toe than I’ll ever be in my whole rig used to give me an endless stream of grief about my “old school” adding machine.

“Your iPhone has a calculator!” she’d remind me about once a day.

Yes, it does. But it’s not the same.

The tactile pleasure from the machine and that little raised nub on the 5 button, so you know where you are without looking? Delicious!

And look! If I want to, I can even print out my column of numbers!!! Check and double check!

I choose to keep the tape roll off the machine. Why waste the paper, right?

Oh my sweet glorious adding machine. It’s now found a new home, a place of honor, on my new desk at my new hip, hot IT employer.

As I drew the beast out of my backpack and lovingly cleaned it up with alcohol wipes, my new boss declared “what is that?!?!”

But then one of my new employees said, “oh, I love adding machines. I still have mine too. I love using the tape to check my number input.”

I almost wept.

We may have found a home here…me and my not-so-sleek, not-so-luxurious adding machine.

In case you were wondering, yes…I took my adding machine with me when I left Lockheed. They considered it my going away present. It was so thoughtful!

When you point a finger…

How does that old saying go? When you point a finger at someone, there are three pointing back at you?

Something like that.

Was pulling the virtual slot machine lever on a blog idea generator, and the topic came up, “Write a letter to someone you need to forgive.”

Well geez. Make it easy, why don’tcha?

So I thought to myself, “Who do I have to forgive?” and an image came immediately to mind.

You see, there seems to be something I can’t get over. It’s childish and stupid, but for some reason I’m hanging on to this.

In considering how I’d write a letter to forgive, I realized…it’s not the other person I need to forgive. It’s me. I have to forgive myself for being such an assh*le sometimes.

Here’s the background:

It’s Saturday night, at the Gipsy Kings concert, sitting in the second row with my husband, excited for the show to start.

As showtime is close, in walks a gorgeous woman with dark hair, red lips, long toned legs clad in tiny white shorts, her top half in a tiny halter-top. She’s also wearing a radiant smile.

She’s beautiful. And she sits right in front of us.

Fine. Oh just…fine.

I look at her and I want to hate her. No. I look at her and I want to be her. On the outside, anyway.

The show starts and she and the guy she is with are drinking, they are laughing, they are having fun. She gets up to dance and catches the eye of the entire audience, the band, the roadies, the ushers, everyone.

She’s beautiful and she has rhythm and she lacks self-consciousness and she dances well. We can’t help but watch her.

I want to stop envying her, but I can’t. And all those ugly things that women think about each other I’m thinking in my mind.

As the show goes on, I stop looking at the woman and I get into the show. As I described yesterday, it was an amazing musical experience.

Toward the end of the show, I start to notice the lady in front of me again.

Everything she’s been drinking all night has started to catch up to her. She’s got her eyes laser set on one member of the band and she’s doing all she can to get and keep his attention.

She’s trying to dance just for him, but she’s so drunk, she’s wobbling on her high heels.

She shakes her medically enhanced boobs for the singer, and one pops out of her halter-top. Her boyfriend stuffs it back in and speaks sharply into her ear. He’s not happy.

She’s so drunk, she doesn’t care.

She keeps trying to dance in a sexy way for the guy in the band, but now it’s become sad. She’s stumbling around and sloppy drunk.

And I feel a little haughty. A little Dana Carvey as Church Lady high and mighty.

When the show ends and the band members are taking bows, she rushes up to the stage and summons the man she’s been vigorously trying to get the attention of all night, much to the dismay of her boyfriend.

He comes over to shake her hand and she tugs at him hard, almost pulling him off the stage. When he’s in range, she plants a sloppy kiss on his lips. The band man isn’t happy. The boyfriend isn’t happy. The lady throws her hands up in the air like a referee signaling a touchdown.

Now I’m embarrassed for her. In that haughty way I have.

The lady’s boyfriend says some words to her, trying to keep his cool. She’s so drunk, nothing is sinking in, so he grabs her hand and drags her away. He has to help her up the stairs out of the venue.

As we leave, we see them sitting on a low wall talking. Well, he’s talking. She’s trying not to pass out.

The Good Man and I go out to our car and we sit there waiting for the parking lot to empty out a bit. When we find a gap in the flow of cars, The Good Man turns on the car and hits the headlights. In the spotlight, we see the couple again. She’s now slipped-over-the-line drunk, unable to walk. Her high heels are off and she can hardly stand.

The suffering boyfriend now picks her up like a sack of flour, under his arm, and carries her drunk dead weight to their car.

I feel sorry for the man. And the lady.

And I feel smug.

As we drive home, for some reason all I can talk about is the lady and her boyfriend, and I don’t know why.

Why does this bother me? Why can’t I stop obsessing??

And so here’s the forgiveness part:

Dear Karen,

On the night of July 10, you, as they say in the vernacular, showed your ass.

Just because someone is physically attractive does not mean they are a better person than you…and just because they show they are human does not mean you are better than them.

It just means we’re all human.

How about you forgive yourself for all the things you think you should be and aren’t, and all the things you think you are but shouldn’t be?

How about just being ok being you?

Betcha it might make your days go a whole lot easier.

I forgive you. Now you forgive you too.

Go get ’em, tiger.

Love,

You

Taking the Challenge

Blogging friend and frequent commenter SinPantalones has challenged her readers to answer ten of her personally handcrafted questions.

Then, once answered, we are further challenged to write ten of our own and present them to our readers to do the same.

Sort of one them thar internet meme things, I think.

Anyhoo, I’m easily entertained by such things, and so, I officially take the challenge

Here we go:

1) Breakfast sausage: Patties or links?

Oh patties, hands down. I may be in the minority on this. I sort of hate the skin thing that links are wrapped in. I know it used to be animal intestine, but now it’s something weird that I can’t quite digest. Plus, with patties, your odds of a fully cooked sausage are much higher. I can’t tell you how much I hate biting into a link sausage and finding it uncooked in the middle. Bleeecky.

2) I hate to do this to you, but I’m going to resort to the age-old Desert Island question. Which three LPs/CDs/musical collections and which three books would you like to have with you if you were stranded on an unpopulated desert island?

Okay, this is a tough one. Three records: The Mavericks “Music for all Occasions, Alison Krauss & Union Station “I’ve Got That Old Feeling” and probably the George Strait box set.

As for books…”Lonesome Dove” by Larry McMurtry, “Moby Dick” by Herman Mellville (because hell, I’ll have some time on my hands and a long book might be helpful) and maybe “The Sun Also Rises” by Hemingway.

3) Toilet paper: Over or under?

Over. Absolutely over. I’m very, very firm about this.

4) If you could wish any one celebrity completely and utterly out of existence–POOF!– who would it be?

I was going to say Heidi Montag, but she’s not really a celebrity and her 15 minutes are up soon.

So I’m going with Tom Cruise. I’m sure I don’t have to explain why.

5) As regards dating/attraction, what are your three biggest dealbreakers? What three qualities/attributes/characteristics can you simply not stomach?

Hmm, this is a tough one. Over the years I’ve learned a lot about how every person has something that is intriguing. Yes, I said everyone.

So turn offs have to be pretty serious. I guess going back over my sketchy dating past, I’d have to say anyone verbally and/or physically abusive is a no go. An alcoholic and/or recreational drug user is also a no way. And finally, someone who is unwilling to put me and our relationship as top priority.

That last one is a big deal for me.

6) What is your favorite television commercial and why?

My bologna has a first name, it’s O-s-c-a-r…

Cute, catchy and makes bologna sound appetizing!

7) What is your comfort food?

Oh so hard to pick just one. Probably Velveeta cheese chile con queso over fresh corn chips.

8) It’s 1979 and you are a heterosexual man. (Or a homosexual woman, actually. Either one. You choose.) You can have a steamy one-night stand with Linda Ronstadt, Stevie Nicks, Tina Turner, or Olivia Newton John. Which one?

Ooooh, tough call between Stevie and Tina. I think Tina would scare me so bad (but in a real nice way) that I’d have trouble stepping *up* to the challenge, so to speak.

Steve is probably a little freaky. Ok, I’ll go Stevie.

9) When you were eight years old, what did you want to be when you grew up? Or was that even something you were thinking about at the time?

Weirdly, I used to play that I owned my own business when I was a kid. My folks had this huge adding machine that I used as a cash register and I made up these invoices with carbon paper between the pages.

I cringe now thinking on it, but it’s true. I played at being a business lady.

Strange ass kid. Where were my dreams of being a superstar?! A model?! An actress!? A ballerina? Nope, Little Miss Practicality….

10) If you could wave a magic wand and change one thing about your physical appearance, what would it be?

My genetic disposition to a lower tummy. No matter how much weight I lose, no matter how skinny the women in my family get, there is always that belly out there.

Ever since I was a little kid, I yearned for a flat tummy. I’ve never in my life had it.

______________

Ok, on that low self esteem note…here’s my ten questions.

I challenge my readers to answer on their blog and post a link in the comments. I look forward to reading your replies!!

1) What is your favorite fast food place, and why? Any answers of “oh, I never eat fast food” will be disqualified.

2) If you could be any one famous person for a week, who would it be and what would you do as that person?

3) Regarding the gas tank in your car, are you one of those “never let it get below half a tank” people, or do you run it down to fumes before getting a fill up?

4) If you could be gifted with either the talent of truly gifted athlete (think Willie Mays, Michael Jordan, Wayne Gretzky) or the intellect of a Nobel Prize winning scientist (think Thomas Edison, Albert Einstein), which would you choose, and why?

5) Slushies come in three flavors: grape, orange and cherry. Which flavor do you choose?

6) Do you play the lottery? If so, how often and have you ever had any luck? If no, why not?

7) Have you ever “borrowed” somebody else’s stuff from the office ‘fridge? (lunch, CoffeMate, yogurt, etc)

8) Speaking of the office. Here’s the scenario: You need to make a copy so you walk up to the copy machine. The readout flashes, “paper jam”. Do you turn around and walk away, or do you try to fix the problem?

9) Who is the most famous person you have ever actually met in person. As in shook their hand or had them speak directly to you or signed an autograph for you personally.

10) After living a full life where you have accomplished all of your goals, you find it is your last day on Earth. You are provided a last meal consisting of whatever food and beverage you choose. What do you order?

Ok class, grab your #2 pencils and let’s get to work! I look forward to reading your answers!