Unscheduled Meeting

I think I'm in the minority of workers. I actually love meetings. While some people go out of their way to avoid them, I pray for an interruption to my work day. I used to love Fridays at work because we would have an hour and 45 minutes worth of meetings on the last day of the week. It made the day go by very quickly. True, I never really pay attention in the meetings, preferring to either surf the web if a computer is handy or write out my thoughts or mock the person that is saying something inappropriate or just plain stupid. Either way, I enjoy not having to work...

Unscheduled meetings, however, are the worst. You never know what's coming, but you know its not going to be good. The last unscheduled meeting we had, we found out that they were cutting monthly bonuses. One before that, turned out to be a shilling session for the United Way, and one before that was to tell us that some of our leadership team were being reassigned, leaving us in the hands of unproven management. Needless to say when my manager told us to go to the conference room around 6:45 on Friday, I had a little trepidation.

I knew it wasn't going to be good when our team sat down, and then the site leader and two department managers joined us. Never being one to be able to hide my reactions, the shock showed on my face. I wondered what was wrong now. Were we going to lose our jobs? Did someone do something especially egregious that warranted this massive show of management? I really had no idea. Then the site leader spoke.

"I can see on your faces that you are surprised to have all of us here. Let me first say that this is not about anyone losing their jobs."

Relief poured through me. He continued..

"I do have to share some bad news with you though. Earlier today, one of your teammates, Jeffrey passed away."

I knew Jeffrey was sick. When I first met him, he was coming back from leave. He had been out of work for several months. Then later he had a stroke and missed some more time, before coming back and leaving again. He hadn't been at work for several months before his death. There had been talk about him coming back to work in March, but I didn't know if that was true. And now he was dead. People around me started crying, others, such as myself maintained a solemn facade. Nobody really knew what to say, as happens when bad news strikes. I scanned the room and took in the grief that some were feeling and wondered why I didn't feel the same. I mean, it was definitely bad news, but it didn't affect me deeply.

The words droned on, as people shared their memories and tried to work through it to get to a happy place. The phrase "that's what Jeffrey would have wanted" popped up several times. I started to feel bad that I had nothing to share. I didn't want him to die, but I didn't exactly have any appropriate memories to relay at the time. We weren't friends. Truth be told, he was annoying. I didn't like being around him because he was always begging for food, a ride, or $5. I was uncomfortable at his intrusive nature and his not so subtle attempts to find out if I was either gay, or messing with every girl that came by my desk. I actually wrote about him here *click link*. He was nosy, and I felt like anything he found out about me would soon become the office gossip. So, I did like I always do. I don't tell anyone about myself. No matter how many times he would try to interrogate me, I deflected, avoided, and flat out told him to mind his business.

So, yeah, we weren't friends. I didn't want him to die though. I felt bad that I was thinking about the things that annoyed me at a time like this. Why couldn't I just be like everyone else and be in mourning? Was something wrong with me? Do I really not care that Jeffrey died? Maybe, its just a man thing. Maybe men aren't in touch with emotions like that. No, that wasn't it. I did care. It just didn't hit me that strongly because we weren't close. I'm sure if it was someone I was friendly with I'd feel... something. As it was though, I just couldn't be like everyone else. I couldn't pretend to be broken up, because in truth, I wasn't. I didn't want him to die (I know I keep repeating this, but I want you to realize this is the truth), but it didn't personally affect me.

Monday, they had grief counselors on site to help people that needed it. People kept making vigils to Jeffrey's desk and crying. Some people came by just to be nosy. People I know didn't even know him. It was very annoying. I understand if you knew him, but if you don't even know who he was, why are you crying? They would ask "which one was Jeffrey?" The answer was always "Remember that dude that did the split at the meeting?" Or "Remember the people meeting when the guy went crazy bobbing for apples?" And then there would be tears. You don't know him! Now take your sobbing and be out. And then they all want to know how he died. I don't know. I have my suspicions, but I'm not gonna tell you. You don't even know him, and you don't know me, so it is entirely inappropriate for you to be asking.

There's a memorial service on Saturday. I'm going to be out of town, so I won't be going. Let's be honest though. I wouldn't have gone even if I was in town. I don't want to sound callous, but we weren't friends. I'm sorry that he's dead, but I don't have a desire to sit around and see people have emotions that I couldn't quite conjure up. Or even worse, see people displaying phony emotions. I just wish that I could feel some kind of way about it. I feel like a bad person for not having any emotion.

Damn, I hate unscheduled meetings.

Check Out The Scenario

Please excuse any typos. I cranked this out in 5 minutes at work and didn't have time to edit.

Check The Scenario:

Say you work for a multinational corporate conglomerate… One that employs around 200k people in the US alone… They are always talking about their strength and stability…in public. Privately, though, there’s talk of belt tightening, reduced bonuses, and worst of all layoffs.

Then say that this company pays a majority of its employees on a fixed pay schedule. The 15th and the last day of the month. It’s been like that since you’ve been working there and although you would like to get paid every two weeks like virtually everyone else you know that’s not a teacher, you’ve adjusted to the schedule.

Then say you get an email telling you that your mulit national conglomerate is changing the pay schedule so that everyone gets paid at the same time. Payroll will run on Fridays every two weeks. For a moment, you express your happiness like the rest of your peers at this supposed piece of good news. This change will go into effect in Mid March, with the first Friday payday being April 3rd.

Then say, you start reading between the lines and discover what is not explicitly written in the email. This means you will not be getting paid on 3/31 like you normally would. This means that payday is being pushed back 3 days, which although its not a big deal to your personally, is an inconvenience. And what about those people that have rent due on the first and don’t have a grace period. And what about incentive bonuses? How will those be handled now that we no longer get paid at the end of the month? And what about people that get quarterly bonuses… And then it hits you…

This might have been done intentionally.

Say your company is trying to put on a brave face in the midst of this global recession. Cuts are being made just about everywhere. Hell, they didn’t even put up a Christmas tree in your building to save on electricity. In spite of all the cutbacks, profits are down, just like virtually every other company. But the company has a responsibility to its share holders. You start thinking… When does the 1st fiscal quarter end: March 31st. When aren’t you going to be paid: March 31st! Can this really be a coincidence. You start thinking maybe you are over thinking it..

But the thought lingers in your head. How much money could they really save by not paying us. Just for kicks, you do the math. Of course, you have no idea what people make, so this is by no means scientific, but just say we take an lowball average of $1000 per employee. That adds up to 200 Million Dollars!!! Heaven forbid we add in quarterly bonuses and monthly bonuses. You shudder to think about how much money is not being reported properly. It’s impossible to say how much money that is. You think could they really be doing this to delay this expenditure until the second quarter when things will hopefully get better? You think to yourself: This is some Enron stuff. If you can figure out this move, then who knows what else is going on behind the scenes. Should you be worried???

Here’s my question: Are you being paranoid? Are you overthinking the situation? Are you just plain wrong? I’d love to hear your opinion!

Savannah Slang

This one started as Thursday Thirteen, but I abandoned it for 2 reasons: Number 1: I couldn’t think of thirteen things. And Number 2: You guys don’t read those for some reason. I figured I would trick you into reading by coming up with a fake title. LOL.

So, as most of you know, I was raised in Savannah, Georgia. As a northerner transplanted into this sleepy southern town at age 11, a lot of things were different than what I was used to. The weather, the food, the people. But most of all, the language. They said some stuff that I had never heard before and even after living there for 14 years, it still took some getting used to. Anyway, here are some of the words and phrases that permeated my youth in Savannah:

Steef – It means to steal. I don’t know if it’s a combination of steal and thief, but that’s what they used to say. I’ll use it in a sentence.
Example: Hey, man! Stop trying to steef my bike! My daddy gave me that and I ain't seent him in years.

Hey-ay – I remember when I first move down south, everybody said hey instead of hi or what’s up. And it’s that elongated hey that lasted like 2 syllables.
Example: “Hey-ay, Lakeisha! (Cuz all the girls had an name that started with la and ended with an a) How are you?

Box – This meant to hit or to fight or slap the fire out of someone.
Example: “You better back up or I’ma box you!”

Iknowdatright - This is the ultimate affirmation. And it always ran together. You can’t say I know that’s right if you really meant it. If you really mean it, you say something like this...
Example: “That girl’s weave was jacked up!!!” “Iknowdatright!”

Get the go – This is the 80’s Savannah equivalent of going steady. If you had a girlfriend, you were going with her. Somehow that got transformed to “getting the go.”
Example: “Aww, man! You a punk. You scared to get the go with LaCienaga!”

Skreets, skrimp, skrawberry – Str = Skr in Savannah talk. No further explanation need.
Example: “Hey dawg! Let’s go skrait down to River Skreet and get some skrimp and a skrawberry soda.”

Boonkie –it means booty, butt, arse, gluteous maximus. I had a homeboy that they called Sugar Boonkie which he for some reason answered to. I need to ask him about that if I ever see him again. And if you said “boonkie buddies” that meant they were having relations. Not only for ghey people, it also worked with men and women.
Example: “Laquienetica got a phat boonkie”

OOOkay –Pronounced OH!!! Kay. This annoyed me for the last few years I lived there. I don’t know where it came from, but I wish they would have refused delivery. You probably can’t get the full gist of how it sounds. It’s an extreeeeeeemly long O sound with a minor kay sound. Maybe I’ll due an audio clip so you can hear it sounds. Another affirmation.
Example: “I like that new OutKast album.’ “OOOkay, that thing is fie (fire.)"

‘tindo – Short for Nintendo. It stood for any video game system. You could be playing a Sega Genesis, and it was still tindo.
Example “Mama, Rommel won’t let me play ‘tindo with him.”

Blowed – Or blowing me. It means a couple of things. It means you are shocked. It means you are disgusted. It means you are annoyed. I wrote a long 3 part post called Blowed on my old blog. I’m not sure if this one was regional or not, because me and my homie Kareem got everybody on the Eastern Seaboard saying it. Or maybe, they were saying before they heard us, but you get my point.
Example: “Son, why is my job talking about laying people off. It’s really blowing me.” Or “I was so blowed when Falcons lost to the Cardinals the other day.”

Da C-Pote – This is short for seaport. They call Savannah the seaport city of the south. My people call it Da C- Pote. You don’t pronounce the r, you barely pronounce the t. “You don’t come over here disrespecting the Westside.
Example: "This da C-Pote, you lame!”

My Latest Obsession

I've been known to fixate on things over the years. My current obsession: The AFI 100 Years...100 Movies List. For those that don't want to click the link, basically in 1998, AFI (American Film Institute) compiled a list of the 100 greatest American movies over the last 100 years. It was voted on by 1500 people in the movie industry. There's all kinds of criteria that they use to pick the movies, but that's not important right now. What's important is my obsession...

A few years ago, I had the bright idea that I was going to watch all 100 of the movies on this list. I had seen some, but for some reason I thought that if I was going to be a true movie fan, I should watch them all. The idea languished in the recesses of my mind trapped behind other obsessions such as blogging, downloading every single song I could find by Little Brother and anyone remotely affiliated with the Justus League (What up, Adei? I know you think that's weird, but it is what it is. LOL) and watching the entire series of several TV shows, such as the Sopranos, Gilmore Girls, and countless British crime series. Yeah, I know that's a lot of obsessions, but at least I'm not hurting anyone, right?

Fast forward to late 2008. I'm dating Jameil and she is a documentary filmmaker. We started watching tons of movies, some documentaries and other's fiction. I got back in the swing of watching movies all the time. I remembered my old idea of watching all these movies and thanks to Netflix, Turner Classic Movies and the University of Florida library, I put the plan in action. First thing I did was make a list of all the movies I hadn't seen. There were around 55 out of the 100 I needed to watch. Then I started getting the DVDs in the mail from Netflix and taking advantage of their Instant Viewing option. I was making significant progress on the list. Some of the movies I thought I would hate (ie westerns and musicals), I actually liked. Conversely, some of the classic movies on the list were straight garbage to me (The Graduate, The French Connection, Midnight Cowboy.) I guess everyone has his own tastes. Before I knew it, I was down to like 25 movies when I discovered something. AFI updated their list in 2007. That meant that 27 more movies were added to the list. Sure, I could have just went with the original list, but what kind of obsessive behavior is that? I decided I was going to watch every single last movie on both the 1998 list and the 2007 list. I remembered that Turner Classic Movies often plays these movies, so I went to their website and got the schedule for when they were coming on. I added that to my list. I figured if they are coming on TV, I didn't need to wait for Netflix to send them to me. I flew through the movies with ease. It wasn't until I got to the end that I knew it would get more difficult.

See, there were several movies on the list that I was NOT looking forward to watching. The Marx Brothers movies (I think there were 2) took some self prodding to watch. Turns out I loved them. I also have a strong aversion to silent movies. There were way too many of them, and I just can't get into movies without dialogue (with the exception of Charlie Chaplin's City Lights. I actually liked that one.) For the most part I watched those on fast forward, only stopping to read those stupid title cards that explain what's happening in a particular scene. Even though I was dreading those, I made it through those with relative ease. Then the biggest problem: the racist movies. "Birth of a Nation" was basically a propaganda movie about the formation of the KKK. It was incredibly racist, and even though I watched it on fast forward, I saw enough horrible blackface caricatures and Klan glorification to last me 10 lifetimes. Also, Gone With The Wind. I haven't watched that one yet, but I seem to remember back when I was a militant midget (James Evans 1976), hearing about how it was racist. I will soon see, as it is one of only 2 movies I have left to watch.

How's that for obsession? In three months, I've watched at least 70 movies and only have 2 to go. "Gone With The Wind", which Netflix doesn't want to send me for some reason, and the 1939 version of "Wuthering Heights" which is supposedly out of print and not available anywhere, (although my sister who is sharing in my obsession says she found it in the library in Savannah and should be bringing it with her this weekend.) With any luck, I will be finished with this obsession by Monday, and ready to move on to the next one. Any ideas on what I should fixate on next?

Can We Talk About Something Else?

Anything? Please? I don't want to be anti social (okay, that's a lie), but do we really have to have the same conversation every day? I know we aren't exactly friends, but if we must converse, can we talk about a topic that doesn't involve sports, music, or some woman you think is hot?

I know the Falcons lost. I saw the game, I saw SportsCenter, I read about it on the Internet. I know the college football championship game is on Thursday. Yes, I'm gonna watch it. I know the Celtics have been slumping even losing to my Knicks the other day. Basically, I'm up on all the sports news. I don't really need to recap it with you every day.

And the music? No, I haven't gotten anything new. Even if I did, when I tell you about it, you have NO IDEA who I'm talking about, so why do we continue to have this facade of a conversation? We don't listen to the same music. You like that down south hood music. I like hip hop with actual lyrics and beats that don't sound like they were made on a Casio keyboard. And while I can appreciate a clever line about drugs as much as the next man, "quarter brick, half a brick, whole brick ayyy" doesn't exactly qualify. If that's your ish, as you say, we don't need to talk about music ever again.

And the women? Dawg, for real. I'm 34 years old. I think you are even older than I am. I left the locker room talk when I was actually required to be in a locker room. That's high school stuff, dude. There's nothing wrong with looking at women, but do you really have to look like you been in jail for two years and they done let you loose (Andre 3000, 2008). Do you not see women every day? Is it really a surprise that in a building that is 75% female, there are some attractive ones? Is calling them b*tches really what we are still doing in the '09? It's time to grow up.

Basically, I'm saying this on my blog, because I'm not gonna say it in real life. I DON'T WANT TO TALK TO YOU! But if we must can we please find another topic? I don't care what it is. We can talk about the migratory patterns of monarch butterflies for all I care. Anything but sports, music and women. That's been overdone. You're about to make me go back to the old school Rashan that spent his lunch break in the car to avoid these inane conversations. I guess this is why I don't have male friends.

The Incredibly Futile Search For Mexican Food On A Monday Night

I got home from work around 9:15. Jameil was waiting for me, ready to go get some Mexican. We headed to El Toro by the Northlake Mall. We pulled up around 9:30, but there was no one in the parking lot. That’s always a bad sign. Jameil got out to see what time they closed. Although they closed at 10, they looked like they were already shutting it down. We pretty much knew we weren’t gonna get what we wanted. I drove down La Vista, to another Mexican restaurant that I had seen, but never went to. Same thing there. Closed at 10, but nobody was there. Wait staff cleaning up and we didn’t want to be the last and only people in the spot. Before we left Jameil had looked on the internet and found another restaurant, a little farther away, but open until 1. As we drove through the rain, I started to get hungry. We finally arrived at the spot and saw that it was not only a Mexican restaurant, but a billiards hall as well. That immediately aroused my suspicions, but Jameil being far more adventurous than I was still down. I watched as a couple of guys went in the spot. They didn’t look like Mexican gangsters, so I was okay…until Jameil saw the sign…

GUNS NOT ALLOWED UNDER ANY CIRCUMSTANCES

Yeah, we both had to pass on that one. Any place that has to tell you not to bring a gun, obviously has had problems with people bringing guns. Next…

So, in the same shopping center, there was this large, brightly lit restaurant called Santo Domingo or something like that. It looked safe. So we walked inside. You ever seen those movies when someone walks in the room and all activity stops for a minute? Yeah, that’s how this spot was. There were only a few people in there, but it seemed like it got mad quiet and they were eyeing us like how dare you interlopers step in our restaurant. After a few seconds, they went back to their domino game, and a non English speaking waitress sat us down and gave us menus. First thing I noticed was that this wasn’t Mexican food, it was Dominican, which I also knew from my uncanny knack of being able to tell what kind of Hispanic someone is. (I also now realize that Santo Domingo is a city in DR, but I wasn't thinking at the time.) The menu was in Spanish and English, and I was ready to leave. With the people looking over at us, and the menu not having burritos, oh and the $7 Margarita made with margarita mix, I wasn’t feeling it. Then it got worse. The waitress came to take our order and Jameil was asking questions about the entrees. The waitress had no idea what Jameil was saying. “Un Poquito English” or something like that. Somehow we managed to get across to give us a minute.

At that point, I was like we shouldn’t eat here. But I figured that I would get something to go, just so the trip wouldn’t be a total waste (and so they didn’t give us the Dominican sideeye for leaving. LOL) I ordered a Cuban sandwich. Can’t go wrong with that, right? So, we sat in the booth and waited for the food to come. And waited.. And waited… And then waited some more. All the time we were getting funny glances from the bones (or whatever dominoes is called in Spanish) players. It was an absurd comedy of errors. While we were waiting, I remembered that I had limited cash on me and wondered if they took credit cards. Jameil was like “Is this really a place you want to use your card?” She was right. I could just see my card number being used to buy Reggaeton CDs and soccer tickets. Luckily, Jam has some cash on her. Finally after about 15 minutes, she finally comes out with my sandwich and we leave.

We were going to another joint in Midtown that I thought stayed open until 1, but we had to pass my crib to get there and we were just tired of this futile search for Mexican food. You know what we did? Stopped at Sonic. LOL Not exactly what we were looking for, but at least we got to go home. Oh yeah, that Cubano??? That joint was banging! At least something was good about the food search.

Jameil

Is sooooooooooo awesome! My life is nothing without her. (Obviously) Georgia Bulldogs are the worst. GO GATORS!!! I'm getting an orange and blue tattoo tomorrow.