Varied Ruminations...

By RICK RANTAMAKI http://rantamaki.blogspot.com

Occasionally, I’ll jot down a thought or an idea while stuck in traffic, or while I’m sitting at my desk, or when I’m waiting on something or someone. Sometimes I’ll expand upon these thoughts with a full-blown story, and sometimes I just let them stew. Enough of them have accumulated that I thought I’d share them with you. Maybe, someday, I’ll make these into a "Daily Rumination" desk calendar thingy for all the world to enjoy…

• The TMI File: A Vietnamese coworker was half-asleep when I entered his office. I asked if he was alright (he’s in his late 60’s and, well, sometimes you just wanna make sure he’s okay). He straightened himself in his chair and wearily said, “Ugh, sex so much last night.”

• Atlanta only ranks number 3 in the category of angriest and most aggressive drivers. Hah! We’re cuttin’ you off next New York and Dallas (and that’s not a turn signal we’re waving either).

• Yeah, I’ve got a problem, but someday the Health Department will declare it a disorder and I can start collecting disability... and royalty checks for the use of my name. Yeah, someday...

• “Thanks to the digital converter box coupon program,” Tatiana promulgated into the local news camera, “I did not miss one indiscretion on the Springer Show last night.”

• Advice for a new hire: You have to launch into a vulgar session of Tourette's early, or it'll just seem *forced* later.

• When the dashboard is flashing “TILT”, that might be a good time to adjust your diet.

• When will "now" be a good time?

• Sometimes you can go crazy trying to find something you've lost, but you can save yourself a lot of grief if you just look where you left it.

• There are not enough drugs in the day to appreciate government employees.

• Laugh and the whole world laughs with you; cry and you won’t be invited to another poker game.

• I once wiped-out an entire kingdom of Sea Monkeys during a pillow fight. Sure, that was decades ago, but I can still hear their screams.

• Everybody has a secret they don't want you to find – everybody. Some may be dark, some may be shameful, some may be an unpopular addiction to Swedish pop music, but everyone’s prone to reveal their secret given the right company.

• They say the road to hell is paved with good intentions, so I imagine the path to heaven must be lined with GM executives.

• She said she was touched by the hand of God. So, I asked her to show us on the doll where He touched her. (The lab results were incongruent with her testimony.)

• When someone gets a bright idea, people like to say they see the light bulb go on, but what did they say to Thomas Edison? I bet they just told him he was flaming.

• I don’t play by the rules. The house rules. Boxcar Willie rules.

• IT Translation 101: When a coworker says, "My email is not working," what he's really saying is, "It's working, but I'm not."

• Funny how life is constantly refining your perspective.

• Just discovered I'm not NEARLY as special as the bus I rode in on.

• "How do you know it's a virus until you open it?" - The logic of yet another coworker who opened a strange email.

• The Smart Car is little more than a glorified golf cart and, until SUV’s become obsolete, they’re just another splatter for the wiper to smear.

• BIG interview tomorrow [frantically reading "How to Host Your Own Talk Show for Dummies" and avoiding Arsenio's voicemail]

• I'm leery of people with radiant-white teeth.

• The clouds landed overnight, but none of them were numbered “9”.

• [a knowing chuckle emanates from an unknown source]

• A couple of guys in the office are having an aroma war. The Vietnamese guy is attempting to fend off the Hispanic fellow's cologne with a plug-in air freshener and a fan. The rest of us fall under the category of *collateral damage*.

• According to a shoddy tri-fold display down at the Department of Health Services, it's "Mental Health Awareness Month." LET'S GO MENTAL! [clap, clap, clap-clap-clap] LET'S GO MENTAL!

• Wanna instantly elevate the average IQ in a room? Walk into any government office.

• You have my divided attention.

• To help celebrate Cinco de Mayo, most of the storefront signs and billboards around here have been changed to Spanish…no, wait, never mind, they’re always like that.

• I am required by State law to advise you of the emergency exits located at both the front and the rear of the car.

• Transmission of the swine flu is a touchy subject.

• I’m stuck behind an 80's conversion van that, according to the window vinyl, is transporting a member of the Macho Club.

• "I didn't know you were soo funny," my neighbor said today. (She finally read my book...she's had it since Christmas...y'know, I can't duck every back-handed compliment.)

• You need a Paula Abdul translator? There's an app for that.

• Happy belated Procrastination Day! (I'll send you a card next week.)

• Coworker: "I just tried again and again, but it just won't print out for me. What am I doing wrong?" ME: "Which printer are you sending it to?" Another Coworker [down the hall]: "Why does my printer keep spitting out coupons for Viagra?!"

• Hark! According to my calendar, I'm in for a "Good Friday". [Hmm, what else does it know?]

• I wonder if Somalian Pirates wear eyeliner...ARRRR!!

• Master of the Obvious. [cue thunderclap]

• I am none the wiser.

• I've entered the phase in my life where my age is recorded in Roman numerals...but I can't remember if it's 'I' before 'X' except after 'C'...

• [Office Speak 101] "When you get a chance." - REALLY means - "Drop everything and work on MY stuff."

• thick fog + radar gun = blind cop desperately trying to meet end-of-the-month quota

• Why do India’s telemarketers insist on giving themselves names like "Betty" or "Mike"?

• I wonder if coin-op "pay-per-towel" dispensers will be the next cost-cutting measure at the office...

• I’ve been left to my own devices.

• I finally won the office pool. A victory for blind squirrels everywhere!

• I've got the mind of a child. Do you think he'll take it back?

Copywrite 2009 Rick Rantamaki

Come Aboard, We're Expecting You...

By Rick Rantamaki http://rantamaki.blogspot.com

Senility isn’t patiently waiting for my ship to enter Port Retirement, oh no my friends; it climbed aboard sometime during my first visit to Mortgage Bay and has been quietly tossing barrels of memory overboard ever since. It's just taken me a while to notice the diminishing stock. Occasionally, though, I'm able to catch a glimpse of a jettisoned memory bobbing in the wake. Take this afternoon, for instance…

I’m in the break room folding some aluminum foil into the shape of a small cookie sheet when a coworker enters and asks if I’m practicing my origami…and my brain freezes. I don’t mean “freezes” like an overzealous intake of frozen margarita; I mean “freezes” as in mental lockup (like when you ask Windows to run more than one program).

Here’s the kicker, I was already anticipating this very question. Yep, I knew this question was coming and I was already working on my comeback, but somewhere between thinking and speaking, I got stuck. These mental lapses are getting in the way of some good punch lines. So, I figure, perhaps if I revisit this debacle I might be able to figure out what happened. Let’s rewind it and play it back a little slower...

It’s lunchtime and I’m alone in the break room.

(sounds of folding aluminum foil)

I’m preparing to re-heat some pizza in the toaster-oven and reinforcing a sheet of aluminum foil with a few strategic folds (to avoid a messy retrieval). Since I know this action will solicit a snide comment from anyone passing by, (I’d expect nothing less at our office) and origami was the most probable jab, I began formulating a snappy comeback.

I envisioned myself at a community college. There’s an origami instructor pacing the room. She’s helping us with our folding (of course). I’m making a pirate hat. (See, the “funny” is building itself up quite nicely; a vision of me, in an oxford shirt and khakis, wearing a crudely formed, shiny aluminum foil hat and spouting phrases like, “Arrr, ye mateys, ‘tis the bounty of the snack machine ye seek!”, or “Avast ye scurvy dogs, unhand that Lean Cuisine!”)

Now, any good smartass worth their weight in sarcasm will tell you; in order for a comeback to be effective, it must be short, snappy AND delivered without a hitch. Otherwise, you’ll come across like a weatherman attempting standup comedy.

(sounds of footsteps approaching)

Alright then, all I need to do is tighten up my “vision” and I'll have a snappy comeback at the ready. Let’s see, I'm taking a course at a community college…I’ll need something a little more concise…community college…

(co-worker enters break room)

Here it comes…

“Practicing your origami, I see,” utters my co-worker, as if on cue...in an unusually deep voice (oh yeah, we’re in slow-motion).

Hah, I’m ready for this one. I turn to respond; confident my mind will fill the voids as I speak. “Yeah, I'm…uh...”

What's going on? I can’t think of a phrase for taking a community course. Is it community college? Nah, that doesn’t sound right. Community school? No, that’s not it.

My co-worker raises his eyebrows and slowly tilts his head. He’s waiting for it.

I could just say I’m making a hat, but I’m not willing to take the easy way out…not yet. Come on, is it adult classes? No. Damn it!

“What?” he asks while in mid-blink.

“I…I’m taking a class at the community…uh…”

Argh...the joke’s lost. It’s gone. The moment’s past. I should have just said I was making a hat, that would’ve sufficed, but no, I thought I could make the community course thing work.

“I…I got nothing,” I was lying. I had something. I just couldn’t pull it together.

Resigned to failure, I ask my coworker, “What’s the uh…what do you call a class you take at a community college?”

My coworker looks at me like I just asked him to explain the meaning of life.

I reiterate, “You know…like when you take a course down at the community center. What do you call that?”

“I’m taking a class at the community annex?” he responds.

“Well, yeah…but, there’s a name for that right?”

Puzzled, he restates his response, “I’m taking a class at the community annex.”

He’s not helping, but I’m not letting this go…just yet. Maybe if I try a different approach.

“Do you remember that sitcom starring that guy from Taxi...uh, Judd Hirsch? He was attending some help group session at a community school…because he was divorced…he got a Dear John letter – that’s what the show was called, “Dear John”. Do you remember that show?”

“Yeah, I think I remember it…”

“Okay, and occasionally someone would wander into their classroom by mistake because they were searching for some other community class?”

“Yeah.”

“...and they would say something like, I’m sorry, I’m looking for the something, something class…”

(The microwave dings.)

“Community annex class is all I know,” he’s bailing on me now (and I can’t blame him). He turns and leaves, Hot Pocket in hand.

Alone with my thoughts (which violates a restraining order somewhere), I continue to search for the proper phrase. Man that was going to be a funny comeback. If it wasn’t for my failing memory…

Then I saw it, adrift among the waves, a barrel bobbing slowly towards the horizon. Painted on the side, in large whitewash letters, it read, “NIGHT CLASS”.

“Night class! That’s it! I’m taking a night class for space pirates! Arr!!”

By this point, another coworker entered the break room and said, “Space pirates, huh? Well Captain Morgan, your pizza’s burning.”

"Arrrr!!! Me pepperoni delights...arrrgh!!!"

(A woman in a uniform appears. She’s greeting me with open arms.)

“Welcome aboard. My name’s Julie. I’ll be your cruise director…”

“Arr, just point the way to the poop deck....arr.”

Copywrite 2009 Rick Rantamaki