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Monday, 30 August 2004
Corporate Hostages
There was a hostage situation in TO last week. There is the one you read about in the news, but for me the story went like this:
August 25, 2004:
I took an early train today because we were having a big `future of our company' meeting at 8:45 am. These things are always a mix between corporate propaganda, ass kissing and over explaining why we aren't doing so well. But despite all that doom and gloom there is a positive outlook, a re-invention of the wheel, a re-defining of the corporate structure, blah, blah, blah. Not something I would say I am looking forward too. I'm not one of those guys who sit attentively nodding and agreeing with everything the exec is spewing. I am not looking for work to be a spiritual experience. Pay me every other week and I will work. Thanks, can I get a raise?
Our jobs become albatrosses around our necks. Once we enter that employment field we pretty much give up our freedom. We are made to believe that we owe our whole existence to our employers. We are constantly told how grateful we should be for having a job. Then we buy a house, a car, have some kids and notice that our debt is pretty healthy and it becomes true. I am a hostage. If I negotiate correctly I will be released. My captors will hold me until I am 55 or 65 or maybe even later. Or maybe the stress of the captivity will kill me - a heart attack at 42. My paycheck is my captors gun being held to my head. I can change jobs, get more money elsewhere, buy a bugger house and car, but I'm still looking at a CEO wearing a baliclava telling me to keep my face down on the ground and not to make any sudden moves.
So these are thoughts going through my mind as I get off the train and start my two second walk to the office. But I find myself rudely interrupted by a Union Station security (?) guard, who informs me that the doors are locked and I need to go through the underground. Great, thousands of people piling into the station every two minutes and only one exit. Great, 24 hours in a day and they need to shoot some stupid scene for some stupid movie, or worse a Canadian TV show right now right here. Unbelievable. I'm ready to go berserk and lose it. I end up on Bay Street, cops are everywhere (real cops not fake NYPD movie cops). A taxi driver tries to make his way to the Royal York, only to be cursed out by a young cop who seems to have been run out of patience for taxi cab drivers. People are complaining that they need to get to their office, but the cops aren't letting anyone by - `hostage situation, I'm sorry but you cannot go down there'. What the F?
I make my way to work - make it time for the meeting. These things are always a mix between corporate propaganda, ass kissing and over explaining why we aren't doing so well. But despite all that doom and gloom there is a positive outlook, a re-invention of the wheel, a re-defining of the corporate structure, blah, blah, blah...
Posted by Bastard Boy
at 4:49 PM EDT
Wednesday, 25 August 2004
High hurdles.
We are all in mourning at the fall of Perdita. I truly feel bad for her. In May of 2003 I took my Floor Hockey team to the Provincial Championships. We had a good shot at winning it all, facing teams in our round robin that we have beaten in the past. The first game was supposed to be our toughest. We won with a great effort 5-2. The second game was a blowout, with us on top 7-0. As day one ended we were one win away from the gold medal game. Our third game was against a team we beat a month prior by a huge margin (9-2), so we were pretty stoked about our prospects. We lost the game 6-3, and were eliminated from the gold medal game. The team we would have been facing was a team that we had beaten 3 out of 4 times previously, they won the gold in a lopsided victory. I was bummed. In fact I was pretty damned distraught. I felt like I let down my players by not preparing them, by not making some tough decisions that would help our cause. I blamed myself and beat me self up about it for a long time. We began the next season about 4 months later, and came out of the gates firing on all cylinders. Despite the victory after victory, the tournament wins, the league wins and even the exhibition wins, that game, the critique's I heard after that game and the decisions I made prior to that game continued to haunt me. It wasn't until January 31, 2004 that I was finally able to put that loss behind me. We entered the Mississauga Invitational Floor Hockey tournament (which I began a few years ago and is now the largest tournament in Canada...not to brag...) undefeated in our first 11 games of the season. We won a smaller invitational in December, and after grabbing that victory the coach of the team we won against told me that he would need to bring some of his "B" players to our tournament in order to beat us. I shrugged it off. Now for those who do not know, Special Olympics seeds its teams based on ability - the highest being A, the lowest D, my team is a C team, and the tournament I run is for C teams. Winning is extremely important in SO, so much so that coaches will bench players who aren't good enough, or even cut them from their team. I always believed if you were cutting or benching players you weren't really winning. It is a philosophy that cost me (and I emphasize ME) a gold medal back in May, but it was a philosophy that I was committed too (despite strong temptations). So we won our first game against last years tournament champs 10-1. Our second game was against a weaker team, and we won 9-0. Our third game was against the team that knocked us out of the Provincials, we won 2-1 and advanced to the final. In the final we faced the team that were bringing the "B" players. They easily won their side and the match-up was set. They went with there 11 best players, not bringing, benching or replacing their other players in order to put in place a strong winning team. I went with 21 of my 22, as one of my guys didn't make it due to illness - he happened to be one of my best defenseman to boot. The opposing coach grabbed me before the game and playfully told me `you're going down'. I replied `we'll see'. We soon found ourselves trailing 2-0 going into the third period. With two shifts left to play one of my rookies floated a shot past their goalie to get us within one. In the last shift of the game I had my top goal scorer, who already had 6 goals on the day, ready and primed to get some more glory. As the last minute of the game approached I went to pull my goalie and had an extra attacker ready to go. I didn't need him as we tied it up with an awesome shot over the goalies stick side shoulder. A quick time out was called and I instructed the guys to kill the clock and get to OT. In OT we are allowed to throw our best 5, which I did. We pelted the net and were all over the opposing team, and finally, a shot from my top goal scorer is saved, but the rebound cuts across the crease where my captain is waiting for the easy goal. We went wild and I finally got over that loss in May of 2003. My team would go on to beat that gold medal winning team in our league championships later in the year, and when it was all over we had a 27-3-1 record. It was a great year, and the pain of our Provincial loss is long behind us...but I'm still looking to 2007...As for Perdita, if she has the guts and heart she will be back. Her interviews and post race composure gave us a glimpse at what she is made of. I expect we will be cheering her to gold in 2008.
But what does my Bastard Boy alter ego say:
All that training, all that hard work, sponsorship and government funding and she can't even jump one hurdle. Well I am pretty sure that without any training, any sponsorship or governement funding I could have fallen flat on my face too...and I would have taken out not only the Russian, but the other Canadian chick too.
But then again I am a Bastard...
Posted by Bastard Boy
at 12:14 PM EDT
Tuesday, 24 August 2004
Bronze Blenders
Eight years. Today the wife and I celebrate eight years of marriage. According to statistics we are in pretty good shape to make it for the long haul. Some recent stats indicate that after five years of marriage the divorce rate drops significantly. Well three years ago I was just a few months into a new `better' job, the wife was working and we was on `easy street'. No reason for drama there. Now I'm looking to find yet another `better' job (after being informed that their really isn't any future for me at my current employer), the wife is about to run out of maternity leave and has no job to go back to and I am up to my eyeballs in debt!
They say that most marriages break down because of fights about money.
We don't seem to fight about it too much, we are too busy crying about it instead... poverty loves company...and kraft dinner (our Anniversary feast for this evening).
Apparently the eighth anniversary is the Bronze/Appliances Anniversary. I wonder how my wife would react if I got her a bronzed blender? What are the divorce stats on that?
I still think I have a good shot at making it to the Pottery Anniversary...but I will have to get some more stats to verify.
Bastard Out
Posted by Bastard Boy
at 1:27 PM EDT
Monday, 16 August 2004
wash, rinse, repeat
The reality seldom lives up to the expectation. How many times have you looked forward to a movie, a TV show, a concert, a birthday, a party, a wedding and so on, only to find yourself starring at your cold roast beef thinking `I could have watched the second disc of GF2'. Is it just me or do we all set ourselves up for disappointment on an on-going basis? My experience tells me that the movie isn't going to be as good as the trailer, I'm not gonna party like its 1999, I still won't get that Elvis Crown Electric shirt for my birthday and the band is going to be better on disc than live. Yet I still dish out $12 for a movie, I still take a cab to the wedding so I can have a few CC & Ginger ales, I buy the $125 ticket to the concert, and I still have a birthday each year (although I think I can be blameless for this one). Half way through the movie I realise that I put too much of that fake butter on my popcorn, the bar closes during dinner so any pre-roast beef buzz I had is gone by the time the desert comes, after 10 songs I realize that this band is only as good as the guest performers on their album and for some reason I always seem to have a killer headache on my birthday, that only gets worse as I pretend to enjoy myself to appease my family and friends (go home and let me sleep!).
So life is just one great expectation, resulting in a let down, wash, rinse, repeat. Damn depressing. Logically if I lower the expectations, the result won't be so: i.e. don't look forward to anything! 4 out of 5 dentist may approve, but I think that's even worse. Completely hopeless. This is how people end up looking so glum on the GO train each day. What can be more depressing than going to job that just doesn't deliver (i.e. you are not a rock star, professional athlete or self-made millionaire)? I'll tell you what's worse... expecting it to! Give up, no hope, no future! Eventually we all have to make that jump. That jump into the reality of our lives when we realise that we are not a fireman or race car driver or rock star (notice the 2nd reference to the rock star thing?) or starting running back for the Oakland Raiders circa 1984. Nope we are IT specialist (try plugging your computer up your...) or Customer Service Reps (yes sir I understand your frustration, but you can suck my...) or lawyers (yes your honour I would like to file this petition...yawn...for bankruptcy on behalf of my...yawn... no-name impoverished client) etc. etc. Well the job may suck, but there is that home life. It's 4:59 pm, and I can't wait to go home and clean the toilets, argue about what's for dinner, see how much my car insurance went up and find out which pet is sick now. Wash, rinse, repeat. That's why the faces on the GO train look glum coming home as well...
Nothing matters but the weekend, from a Tuesday point of view. Ah yes, two free days of freedom, ruined by a trip to Home Depot and Bed Bath & Beyond (ack: Old School). Gotta build a deck, get new drapes, increase the market value of my home and keep up with the neighbors. We just don't have time for streaking. I wonder why my wife says I'm miserable? Wash, rinse, repeat.
And then it's Monday October 20, 2003. Didn't sleep much last night. Apparently the big `expectation' is starting to rumble. Another let down in the works? Welcome to my world of the miserable. Wash, rinse...whoa, didn't expect that! Wash, rinse, learn to roll over! Wash, rinse, learn to sit up! Wash, rinse, learn to WALK! Wash, rinse, learn to TALK! Wash, rinse, learn to THROW A BALL! Wash, rinse, learn to RIDE A BIKE! Wash, rinse... I just can't wait.
The expectation doesn't hold a candle to the reality...who knew?
Posted by Bastard Boy
at 1:11 PM EDT
Updated: Monday, 16 August 2004 1:12 PM EDT
Friday, 13 August 2004
Doogie Howser vs My Bathroom usage
This blog thing reminds me of Doogie Howser. Remeber that show? The boy genius who at 16 is a practicing MD? Well if you recall he finished each show typing in his diary. He always ended it with some Davey and Goliath lesson that made no sense. Somehow this genius was able to learn a new life lesson every week... i guess that is what made him a genius. What did I learn this week? I learned that I used more water and sewage in July than June. How would Doogie see it?
'Even if you use more water & sewage doesn't mean your taking more dumps' - there, that's your lesson.
Posted by Bastard Boy
at 9:26 AM EDT
Thursday, 12 August 2004
WELCOME TO MY BLOG
Well I've decided to start a blog. I guess that people such as myself, think that people such as yourselves care to know what I am thinking. Is this the sign of a big ego? Maybe, but I, and I would assume other bloggers, just find some joy in writing crap. So here is my place where I will write my crap, and educate you, the plebeian masses...
I am not sure what topics I will discuss, how much will be fiction or how much will be fact. It doesn't matter does it? But I hope you enjoy the ramblings.
Last night I got home from work to an empty house, the wife and baby were out. It sucked, and I found myself watching the clock, thinking, `they got to be home soon, its almost bed time'. I walked around the house looking for something to do, but instead kind of felt lonely. Its only been nine months, but man oh man. Limited weekday hours and weekend `visits' just don't seem to be enough... Alas, the DVD called me and so I plugged in the Godfather part 2. I only watched the first disc.
"I knew it was you Fredo!"
Posted by Bastard Boy
at 10:09 AM EDT
Updated: Friday, 13 August 2004 9:25 AM EDT
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