While I was ill, the weather grew warmer. Now that I'm feeling better, it's gotten colder again. Lovely. It means that I needed to wear my heavy dress coat in order to attempt to prevent freezing in route to the party. It's not that my car doesn't get warm, because it does, but I don't like starting my car and letting it sit to warm up. Besides, I didn't know if I would need to walk around outside after parking my car and before getting inside. The coat is of the thick, heavy, woolen type of years gone by. It's dark colored and dressy, but it's not all that stylish I guess. Still, I would rather be warm than look cool.
As things turn out, there aren't street lights in the part of River Hills I was to go to for the party. In all honesty, I'm not all that familiar with River Hills, so maybe they don't have street lights at all. Even without lighting, my map was good enough to lead me directly to the house, well, mansion where the party was being held. This place was huge and modern and it looked like something out of a movie to me. It didn't look like a building I'd expect to see in Wisconsin. The building looked like boxes of different sizes assembled together. With the snow and the white of the building blending as they do, it looked quite odd indeed. I wondered if they had someone shovel off their flat roofs because the accumulation couldn't be good for the building in the long run.
The overhangs hold shadows, covering the windows in darkness. Small polite lights did their part to illuminate the path to the door but it did nothing to dispel the gloom. My frozen shoes clacked loudly on the pavement as I approached, alone and cold, excited and nervous, keen to get in and not being able to wait to go.
Saturday, January 30, 2010
Thursday, January 28, 2010
Not Looking Forward To This
I'm still not looking forward to this party. It's not so much the remnants of the cold that bother me, it's just the party itself. I don't mix very well. It's not that I can't or don't chat or anything like that, it's just that I'm not particularly outgoing when I'm surrounded by a number of unfamiliar people. There will be some people from work but that'll mostly be the other department heads and I'm not all that fond of most of them.
Besides, it's in River Hills. For those of you unfamiliar with the Greater Milwaukee Area, River Hills is the suburb where the Rich People live. There's a pecking order to the area suburbs, in a slightly joking manner, where the people in Glendale wish they lived in Whitefish Bay, and the Whitefish Bay people wish they lived in Fox Point, etc. Top of the list for a Milwaukee suburb is always River Hills. Some people might drag Mequon into this but it's not technically a suburb of Milwaukee and is big enough to not be completely ritzy. Besides, I think there are people in Mequon that wish they were in River Hills as well.
I've met people with wealth before, mostly in situations like this party. People with money aren't that different from people without money. Some are pleasant, some aren't. Some are money hungry, some not. Some like baseball, others don't. You get the idea.
Dealing with the uncomfortability of an unfamiliar situation is one thing. It's part exciting and part nerve wracking. The pressure to impress a group of rich folks so that they'll contribute to the cause, that I don't care for at all.
On the downside, I'm not allowed to drink any alcohol while at an event where I'm representing the school. On the upside, I'm not allowed to drink any alcohol. I can't use alcohol to relax me in any way but, at the same time, I'm less likely to get overly casual.
There's an advantage and disadvantage to getting the invitation on short notice. I don't have time to overthink the situation, which is a good thing. I'm also less likely to forget the appointment. On the downside, short notice irritates me. It's a side effect of my work. People regularly come to us at the last minute, making us scramble to assist instead of being able to plan things out and doing them properly. As a result, some people grow accustomed to the idea of approaching us at the last second, because we manage to still meet their need, and others complain about my department's failure, somehow not acknowledging their own part in the process.
I look forward to it being over and done.
Besides, it's in River Hills. For those of you unfamiliar with the Greater Milwaukee Area, River Hills is the suburb where the Rich People live. There's a pecking order to the area suburbs, in a slightly joking manner, where the people in Glendale wish they lived in Whitefish Bay, and the Whitefish Bay people wish they lived in Fox Point, etc. Top of the list for a Milwaukee suburb is always River Hills. Some people might drag Mequon into this but it's not technically a suburb of Milwaukee and is big enough to not be completely ritzy. Besides, I think there are people in Mequon that wish they were in River Hills as well.
I've met people with wealth before, mostly in situations like this party. People with money aren't that different from people without money. Some are pleasant, some aren't. Some are money hungry, some not. Some like baseball, others don't. You get the idea.
Dealing with the uncomfortability of an unfamiliar situation is one thing. It's part exciting and part nerve wracking. The pressure to impress a group of rich folks so that they'll contribute to the cause, that I don't care for at all.
On the downside, I'm not allowed to drink any alcohol while at an event where I'm representing the school. On the upside, I'm not allowed to drink any alcohol. I can't use alcohol to relax me in any way but, at the same time, I'm less likely to get overly casual.
There's an advantage and disadvantage to getting the invitation on short notice. I don't have time to overthink the situation, which is a good thing. I'm also less likely to forget the appointment. On the downside, short notice irritates me. It's a side effect of my work. People regularly come to us at the last minute, making us scramble to assist instead of being able to plan things out and doing them properly. As a result, some people grow accustomed to the idea of approaching us at the last second, because we manage to still meet their need, and others complain about my department's failure, somehow not acknowledging their own part in the process.
I look forward to it being over and done.
Wednesday, January 27, 2010
'Invitation'
“Not doing anything on Friday are you?” Cuthbold asked. Without waiting for the answer, he continued. “Good, good.” I didn't recall having anything planned for Friday night but the idea of spending that evening shaking off the last of my cold appealed to me. I liked the idea of just resting. I was not allowed to articulate this position. As I began to protest, Cuthbold became a bit serious. It almost came to the point where he had to remove his glasses as part of a Serious Gesture. “Whatever it may be, cancel it. Your presence is required at this party.” Before I could comment on the short notice, I was cut off again. “You would have gotten the invitation last week but you were out ill that day. I know a week is still a bit short notice but we received the information a bit late ourselves.” His gaze grew distant. “One of our major contributors might be looking to up their donation. We need that funding Patrick.” He gave me the Serious Look again, this time accompanied by the removal of the glasses gesture to drive the point home. “Need that funding or jobs may be lost.”
I can take a hint. Things are a bit tight and no one is indispensable. I agreed. “Good!” The glasses were returned to his face. “Look forward to seeing you there. Dress well. Very well.” With that, he left me be.
I can take a hint. Things are a bit tight and no one is indispensable. I agreed. “Good!” The glasses were returned to his face. “Look forward to seeing you there. Dress well. Very well.” With that, he left me be.
Tuesday, January 26, 2010
Been Sick
I know a number of teachers. I suppose that's an obvious statement really as I work in an educational facility. I'm not a teacher insomuch that I don't have a class that I speak to or anything like that. With all the interns I have, teaching is part of what I do. Teachers tend to exist in a petri dish of illness, swimming in all the diseases that their students bring in. For some reason, I never seem to get sick like some of the teachers get sick. Perhaps it's due to the fact that I have a stronger immune system or perhaps I just don't get as exposed to as much of a mix of people than some teachers. The majority of my illnesses are really no big deal and I can continue to work through them, perhaps just spending more time in my office so as to lessen my impact on the rest of the group.
When I get Sick, I get Sick.
Some monster cold grabbed hold of me last week and knocked me low. I can tell it's bad when I decide I need to call in sick to work. I just don't do that. I think, on average, people are good for a few sick days a year, whether it's a physical illness or a mental health sort of thing. In the past decade I think I may have missed ten days, maybe, if that. I have to be Sick before I call in, so take that as a sign of how I felt.
If television and stand-up comics have taught me anything it is that men tend to become babies when they become ill, demanding that a woman take care of them. If this is true, then I am different in this regard as well. I just curl up in a ball and want to be left alone. Well, I don't mind being taken care of a bit but I don't pout and sulk and all that until someone does so.
That's why I thought it odd that Julia came over with lovely warm soup. It seemed very out of nowhere as I hadn't told her, or Chris for that matter, that I was ill. As it turns out, I told Sarah Jean in a communication that I don't even remember having with her and she told Julia, who then came to check on me. Which was nice. It was also nice to 'see' Sarah Jean and Julia getting along. I wasn't sure Julia liked her. There was some... unpleasantness when they met. Julia might blame me for that and, if so, rightfully so.
Feeling better now. Lots of work email to go through. Not enjoying that.
When I get Sick, I get Sick.
Some monster cold grabbed hold of me last week and knocked me low. I can tell it's bad when I decide I need to call in sick to work. I just don't do that. I think, on average, people are good for a few sick days a year, whether it's a physical illness or a mental health sort of thing. In the past decade I think I may have missed ten days, maybe, if that. I have to be Sick before I call in, so take that as a sign of how I felt.
If television and stand-up comics have taught me anything it is that men tend to become babies when they become ill, demanding that a woman take care of them. If this is true, then I am different in this regard as well. I just curl up in a ball and want to be left alone. Well, I don't mind being taken care of a bit but I don't pout and sulk and all that until someone does so.
That's why I thought it odd that Julia came over with lovely warm soup. It seemed very out of nowhere as I hadn't told her, or Chris for that matter, that I was ill. As it turns out, I told Sarah Jean in a communication that I don't even remember having with her and she told Julia, who then came to check on me. Which was nice. It was also nice to 'see' Sarah Jean and Julia getting along. I wasn't sure Julia liked her. There was some... unpleasantness when they met. Julia might blame me for that and, if so, rightfully so.
Feeling better now. Lots of work email to go through. Not enjoying that.
Saturday, January 23, 2010
Tuesday, January 19, 2010
Review: The Ghost of Justice by Clifford Herdt
I have a fascination with the dark corners of history, of things and events not well known to the general public. When I stumbled upon this book, the blurb on the back indicated the book would fit this interest. The book attempts to tell the story of a private detective operating during the middle of the 20th century. Please notice my intentional use of the word 'attempts'.
The book becomes a muddle of myths and legends surrounding this man. Very little appears to be researched. This would be acceptable if this was just supposed to be a collection of stories but the book purports to be a document of an historical figure. Instead of detail and documentation, we get the retelling of stories that have gone through the 'telephone' game, becoming lurid and overblown in the process. It's as if the author found a bunch of cheap old crime pulp paperback books and retold the stories within them.
In the author's defense, some of this story may not be so easily researched. The big claim of the book is that the detective spent most of his time as a 'ghost'. Unless the man had an interview where he said 'I am a ghost' and was tested so that an expert said 'Yup, he's a ghost', how do you prove that?
The author needed a better proofreader and editor. Typos happen and I get that but this book was just swimming in them. I'm not sure there was a page without a typo. The author would start to develop a point but then disappear into the telling of another story. I think he was of the opinion that the story would prove his point without further explanation but it wasn't clear for me.
I found the subject matter interesting but the book doesn't make the 'ghost detective' easy to learn about.
The book becomes a muddle of myths and legends surrounding this man. Very little appears to be researched. This would be acceptable if this was just supposed to be a collection of stories but the book purports to be a document of an historical figure. Instead of detail and documentation, we get the retelling of stories that have gone through the 'telephone' game, becoming lurid and overblown in the process. It's as if the author found a bunch of cheap old crime pulp paperback books and retold the stories within them.
In the author's defense, some of this story may not be so easily researched. The big claim of the book is that the detective spent most of his time as a 'ghost'. Unless the man had an interview where he said 'I am a ghost' and was tested so that an expert said 'Yup, he's a ghost', how do you prove that?
The author needed a better proofreader and editor. Typos happen and I get that but this book was just swimming in them. I'm not sure there was a page without a typo. The author would start to develop a point but then disappear into the telling of another story. I think he was of the opinion that the story would prove his point without further explanation but it wasn't clear for me.
I found the subject matter interesting but the book doesn't make the 'ghost detective' easy to learn about.
Sunday, January 17, 2010
He Makes a Good Point
“You are being ridiculous you know.”
This is not the sort of thing one wants to hear after you have been discussing Heavy Things. “Thanks a lot Chris,” was all I could muster as a reply.
He adjusted his position in his antique chair in order to maximize the effect of his expression upon me. The combination of the shadows from the fire playing about his angular face is quite powerful and impressive. It's the sort of thing I've seen him do over and over again, to the point that I should be immune to it. I am not. Instinctively it gives me a chill up and down my spine. Then comes the rich rumbling voice with its British qualities and altogether it grabs the attention. “You are becoming fascinated with the concept of revisiting your past. To what end? What good would it accomplish to see yourself as a youth? I have seen you have pictures, both static and moving, of yourself as a youth, so it is not as if the sight of your youthful visage is foreign to you. If you are particularly keen to revisit a specific memory, cannot your friend assist you with recalling it to mind?”
Julia dropped off some tea, distracting me from the conversation. She needed no information from me regarding the makeup of my tea, seeing as how she's well used to my tastes in these regards from previous visits and cups of tea. The smiling and the thanking and such drew me from responding. Pulled back to the conversation, I checked “Sarah Jean?” Chris confirmed that this was the friend in mind. I considered this as I sampled the tea. It was wonderful as always. “I suppose she could. I'm not sure it's in her skill set. Of course, I've not had reason to ask before.” I thought on this more as I drank a bit more tea. “It would be interesting to see if the time period was as unpleasant as I remember it. Or if my attitude towards the time period would be different as seen through an older set of eyes.”
Chris set his cup down. “I was there, through all the periods that you were alive and a hundred years besides. The period you are speaking of would not look particularly better through older eyes.”
“What about the late 1800s?”
“Dirty.”
“The 1940s had some good entertainment.”
“Not while living in fear of the war.”
“Good music in the 1960s.”
“Hippies.”
This required pondering. And tea. I did one while taking in the other. “You make some interesting points. Am I to understand that the present time period is the best place to be?”
“Do you have another option?”
He made a good point. I stuck to my tea.
This is not the sort of thing one wants to hear after you have been discussing Heavy Things. “Thanks a lot Chris,” was all I could muster as a reply.
He adjusted his position in his antique chair in order to maximize the effect of his expression upon me. The combination of the shadows from the fire playing about his angular face is quite powerful and impressive. It's the sort of thing I've seen him do over and over again, to the point that I should be immune to it. I am not. Instinctively it gives me a chill up and down my spine. Then comes the rich rumbling voice with its British qualities and altogether it grabs the attention. “You are becoming fascinated with the concept of revisiting your past. To what end? What good would it accomplish to see yourself as a youth? I have seen you have pictures, both static and moving, of yourself as a youth, so it is not as if the sight of your youthful visage is foreign to you. If you are particularly keen to revisit a specific memory, cannot your friend assist you with recalling it to mind?”
Julia dropped off some tea, distracting me from the conversation. She needed no information from me regarding the makeup of my tea, seeing as how she's well used to my tastes in these regards from previous visits and cups of tea. The smiling and the thanking and such drew me from responding. Pulled back to the conversation, I checked “Sarah Jean?” Chris confirmed that this was the friend in mind. I considered this as I sampled the tea. It was wonderful as always. “I suppose she could. I'm not sure it's in her skill set. Of course, I've not had reason to ask before.” I thought on this more as I drank a bit more tea. “It would be interesting to see if the time period was as unpleasant as I remember it. Or if my attitude towards the time period would be different as seen through an older set of eyes.”
Chris set his cup down. “I was there, through all the periods that you were alive and a hundred years besides. The period you are speaking of would not look particularly better through older eyes.”
“What about the late 1800s?”
“Dirty.”
“The 1940s had some good entertainment.”
“Not while living in fear of the war.”
“Good music in the 1960s.”
“Hippies.”
This required pondering. And tea. I did one while taking in the other. “You make some interesting points. Am I to understand that the present time period is the best place to be?”
“Do you have another option?”
He made a good point. I stuck to my tea.
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