Polish Cowboy 1945-2010

He was a hard drinking, family loving, card dealing, fishing fool of a man. Yesterday he lost his battle with cancer ripping a hole in my wife's heart. I can't give you the full measure of the man but I can give you snapshots...

Sitting across from him trying not to wilt under his stare as he idly, expertly worked a fishing reel in his hands that I had brought him, making up his mind on how this was goinna go. I'm there to marry his daughter and like all fathers he's not too keen on the idea but he also has to deal with the fact that I'm about to take her half a world away. I've tried to make sure to live up to his and more importantly my wife's expectations on that particular gift.

Realizing that he understood far more English than he let on.

His love of cards, particularly Bridge and the casual way he could calculate odds and skillfully play to them.

His ability on that red clay in Poland to repeatedly hand me my ass in tennis, and chess.

Listening to the screen door slam shut at the cottage at six or so in the morning as he headed to the lake to fish, shortly followed by my five year old son's pounding down the stairs to join him.

Observing during his visits to the US his utter lack of fear, just getting up for his morning walk and going out into an alien environment to see it. So what if he can't converse? This was one of the greater lessons he gave me. Receiving a phone call from him when he had to drive my car into a pile of gravel because the brakes failed, asking him where he was and hearing, "I don't know."

His love of westerns and desire for a cowboy hat. After he got sick we scrambled to get him one and his happiness at receiving it. Wearing it at "The Ranch" what they call their cottage in Poland.

Trying to convince severely hungover me to drink a bit more vodka the morning after I got way too drunk at my brother in law's wedding to take the edge off. That didn't happen.

When it came to fishing, the man could pull a seven pound striped bass from a glass of water.

His smile, laugh, love of life, love of people. He was a Polish cowboy and like a cowboy he went down swinging. His name was Wincenty Boguslaw Strukiel but we called him Dziadek Bo (Grandpa Bo).

I love you Dziadek Bo, go with God.

Wednesday? Really??!!

Rough night for the wife and I in the sleep department. Every now and then my wife's mind seems to spin out of control on her and she can't put those swirling, nagging thoughts to bed. I'm not as well wired, for me it was the gosh darned smoke detector. I'm giving serious thought to the redneck detector pictured.

I would love to meet the engineer who designed these things so that when their battery goes starts to go low at 2am let's incessantly chirp about it like a hungry bird, and our silly smoke detectors are hooked up to house power. There HAS to be some moronic federal law behind that one, so I'll rephrase, I'd love to meet the engineer and legislator who came up with that one just so I could get in two clean punches. You know, maybe start your chirping if I lose power to the house, otherwise SHUT IT!

So I'm stumbling around at some ungodly hour of the morning with a ladder fighting the temptation to rip the stoopid detector from the ceiling (knowing I'll regret that tactic in the morning light) and making a mental note that yesterday's lunges are not for me if the sharp pain in my knee has anything to say about it. I kill the detector by ripping its near dead battery from it and crawl back into bed. SHEESH!

This morning in the gym I threw my body a minor curve and worked out on the elliptical. I ended up doing around 35-40min on it, it's hard to say because I kept working on my karma while bopping around on that thing. I defend myself against Kingsley's unnatural love for rave music with an iPod and earbuds. Others are not so lucky and since there's an unspoken convention that whoever gets there first can dial in the tunes then one must wait until the dialer leaves before changing channels (or ask maybe, thought I've never seen this done). goodMood has trapped himself on his beloved StairClimber when Kingsley heads for the lockers so I hop off the elliptical, race down the hall and dial in something more customary for early morn and manage to make it back before the elliptical resets. I wasn't so lucky with AT Everest's battle getting her seat right for chest presses. Whatev, as punishment I added 10mins to the workout.

Now I'm struggling with the concept that it's Wednesday already. Really?! Who hit fast forward and can I have the remote please?

Demons: 19,349 - Bill: 3!

I'd have to say my inner demons got the upper hand yesterday in our endless daily struggle. So lets-see it's currently demons: 19,349 - Bill: 3. Perhaps appeasement is the answer, history shows it's worked so many times before. Just nuzzle those little demons close, coo understanding and maybe today will be better. Maybe they wont frolic in Bill's libido and wail on his hunger for crappy food pleasure center. ::rolls eyes::

It's early and I'm in my pod after pushing metal in the gym for a bit. I'm trying a different approach to this exercise thing going full circle with one day cardio, one day lifting, I was watching awesomeGirl doing unnatural things with a medicine ball and inwardly smiling, "Oh yeah, I remember that!". We'll see how that flies. My arms are sore which makes me grin. My dad tells me after vision, hair, hearing and abdominal muscles, strength is the first to go. Well we'll just see about that!

Time to focus...

Another Lost Weekend

My eyes snap open intermittently, glaring distrustfully at the alarm clock. I'm certain I'm going to oversleep.

2:30am... doze... 3:12am... doze

At 4:07 sighing I turn the thing off before it can buzz my wife into annoyance and cotton mouthed stumble into the bathroom. Turning on the water I notice my sticky, crusty hands, covered in... cookie dough!

Oh God! Another lost weekend.

Meanwhile Bubbles is polishing off a half marathon and goFast is chewing up some cyclocross course (congrats!) while others decline or is it torpidly recline into somnolence? Yeah, that's it.

In the gym pushing pedals, sweating, hating it. goodMood, awesomeGirl, easyRider, AT Everest and Diablo there like scifi apparitions, almost in phase, almost real or is it me that's out of phase? Hanging my head my mind turns to ironMan. Where is he? I hope he's well.

I've had better starts to a work week.

pod, gang and I'm in bleed mode

I feel like I'm morphin... even if I'm not I'm definitely listening to Recovery too much. I sit in my pod, headphones on watching evolution at play like a silent movie. Altering interactions, changing work habits, new relationships, endless new pod designs, change. Change? This place has culturally been staid but now areas of it are getting rowdy and I'm part of it. I like that for some reason, normally I'm in the second wave. Now I'm storming the beaches of 'something new' after the 'test pod' established a toe-hold.

Originally there were worries about too much noise and visual distraction. Now some original pod walls (or "partitions" in our vernacular) are actually being reduced to increase communication between pods. All of this is happening by the poddies, they're just doing it. Transforming their work space into their workspace.

So the visionaries were right about that occurring, now all we have to do is prove the second part, the important part.

Increased productivity.

I think the visionaries are going to be insufferably smug, I'll deal with their smugness later. Increased productivity? Yep, that's gonna happen.

Naturally there are haters, convinced pods are stupid, wont work, preferring a coffin cubical existence, while others show signs of being "pod curious." I don't know what will happen with them, I have a team to work with now. Actually I have TWO, honestly, how cool is that?

We're not even a week in on this. I can't speak for all (every time I try speaking for everybody they shove a binkie in my mouth or show me something shiny) but the most common response I got when I asked a poddie how their pod was going was, "It's not as bad as I thought it was going to be" with a surprised look on their face. That was two or three days in; I'll ask again in a few weeks. Some of those were convinced it would not work for them. Speaking for myself, at this moment in time, it's in my blood now. Pod boy, poddie, believer, psycho nut-job, however you want to define me as long as it equates to "all in." I bought the ticket, I'll take the ride.

I leap on top of a partition wall to get a better view of the city, glaring over the first wave of pods beached like troop transports at Normandy...

pod, gang and I'm in bleed mode

Conversion Rate

Day... I'm no longer sure - it seems like I've always been a poddie. We tend to stick in our pod now cuz the people outside our pod are well... peculiar, talk weird and look at us funny. When venturing outside the pod we tend to move in packs for safety. Occasionally some tour guide will come through leading a horde of tourists snapping pictures of us phreaks. We ignore them.

It's an interesting feeling entering a hostile pod and every pod that isn't our pod is hostile. I accidentally strolled into the ND pod yesterday. Angry eyes glare up at you, their faces mirroring each others with this, "I was THIS CLOSE to developing universal authentication until you strolled in you nimrod! WHAT DO YOU WANT OUTSIDER?!" Breaking eye contact I flee their pod.

I noticed yesterday when I was in someone's coffin cubicle how claustrophobic it was. How do they stand being alone, isolated, secluded? Where's their safety in the pack when the killing starts? Poor bastards.

Epiphanies abound as the pod conversion rate accelerates.

We're a virtuous pod, irreproachable and because of that we've started dressing like Hit-Girl from the movie Kick Ass. Our purple wigs making us easily identifiable to one another when outside the pod in that churning mass known as humanity.

A Recent Photo of Bill in a Righteous Design Discussion

The Pods Day Three

It's interesting watching folk adjust to the new pod lifestyle. Me, I'm indifferent honest about the whole thing.

No... that's not accurate - I'm actually digging it. It feels like... college and more inclusive though I find that word a bit overused in the PC sense. I'll role with it.

Currently my only complaint is I need a nose picking screen. I've filed a request with the office folk so rest easy fellow pod mates.

I did another thirty-five mins on the spinner today.

Ponder this wisdom and see ya tomorrow. Things are quiet, perhaps too quiet...

Monstrosities

Sorry about yesterday, it got away from me with all the discoveries I made and whatnot. Like what a 'pod' is - it's all very distracting.

The weekend was interesting. I went to my son's band competition (one of many - he's a member of a very good marching band) and watched this one band with this Wednesday Adams chick playing a violin in this weird danse macabre thing. At one point Memory from Cats flows out in a lonely tremolo from her violin and I got a bit misty. There's something about that song that does that to me. Then the drummers come marching across the field and begin spazzing like demented epileptic skeletons. As they march off the field I hear their my old high school! It explains soooo much! A few bands later my son's band comes out and hands them and everyone else there their butts.

Incessant training - truly it shows.

Then, unreasonably wired I head home and get sucked into this GAWD AWFUL SyFi channel movie (?). Movie might be too strong of a word but let's stick with it. It was called Monster Ark and had one of the most interesting subplots of all time. Check it out. There's this middle aged Indiana Jones wannabe who's divorced from his middle aged genius ancient languages expert wife because he had an affair with one of his students.

Except he didn't have an affair. Turns out the accuser had psychological problems and made it up, and his ex-wife knows this.

So... he got divorced for... not having an affair?!

Um, OK, so this dude's a bit of a wussy. Apparently Noah built two arks, shoving the ultimate evil into one because God couldn't get rid of it... HUH? Anyway Indiana Jones Panty Waist is the only one who can dispatch the ultimate evil using Noah's staff of ultimate goodness but first he must believe in God! But he's a devout athiest!

GASP!

You better get believin' wimpy boy and get that staff aglowin' so that we can smooch and save humanity... NOW you conflicted wussy!

I'm starting to lose interest due to the fact that Indiana Jones Panty Waist and Bitter, Faith In God Wife won't SHUT UP about how disappointed they are in each other over the affair that never happened. This endless bickering cuts significantly into Hottie Brunette's screen time.

Hi! I'm the hot brunette cast to keep all you boys interested enough to keep watching this dreck in the vain hope there will be a nude scene or at least an underwear one. Not gonna happen! I'm a tease ::giggle::

I flip over to MTV to see if Snooki might have written this masterpiece. Nope but I get back in time for the exciting climax where Wussy Man decides that maybe it's in the best interest of humanity if he believes in God since his ex is nagging him about it and maybe this will shut her up. Noah's rod starts glowing, the ultimate evil snarls, wimpy boi shoves him in a wooden box using the glowing staff of righteousness, some Arabian looking dude slams the lid shut and the crate is hauled off by a chopper. The reunited middle aged couple kiss and I assume the credits role but I was in the bathroom vomiting by that time.

 

I'm the Ultimate Evil. BOO!!!!!

Next was Monster Wolf but it didn't hold a candle to this, though it did have its moments.

Yesterday I went to the gym, did thirty-five minutes on the spinner and put on weight. Sigh. I know what the problem is, it's diet but I'm still stuck on stage 14 of denial, sticking one's fingers in one's ears and singing, "la-la-la-la" real loud.

I then ran over to work to see my new office pod!

Old, tired office cubicle

New, improved pod

Alternate view with ready access to pod minions!

Is this cool or what?! I'm a little bitter over the fact that my direct reports chose to sit as far as possible from me but I'm getting over it... sorta. I've spent 25 years in a cubicle, let's give this a try, after all what are we, old ladies?

Wheezy

I had gym goals for today and did 2/3rds of them Stomp, stomp, stomping up that God awful stairclimber on that nightmarish 20min workout followed by 25mins on the spinner before ponyTail came in (thank God!) being her usual too darned cute for her own good. She starts doing what appears to be a Bubbles floor workout with all these weird stretches and whatnot. I've been off the Bubbles' reservation for probably too long and hopefully will find my way back one day but til then...

Do the final 20min on the elliptical?

Shoot the breeze with ponyTail?

Do the math.

So I'm still all sweaty and wheezy from the workout (been too long since I've done serious cardio) staggering around when awesomeGirl starts signaling me that I should help thirty pound AT Everest before she throws her back out trying to lift a seat on the bench press machine. I shake my head "No" causing awesomeGirl to glare at me with this, "Don't MAKE ME come off this treadmill mister" look on her face. Yeah, cuz if she came of the treadmill she could help AT herself.

I merely think this since I'm terrified of awesomeGirl. Figuring anything would help my karma, I help AT Everest before shooting the breeze with ponyTail. goodMood was there but he's always there since he's a MAN, unlike me. Also he keeps his priorities straight, knowing that all the crap at work can wait an additional hour while he takes care of himself.

The office move has started and there are all these dudes in hazmat suits moving stuff around. It's all very mysterious and there are whispers of 'pod people' whatever the heck that means. Some folk gaze tragically at me, tears welling in their eyes before averting their gaze. When I ask why they just shake their head and run off.

Weird.

Grainy office move pic taken before being 'moved along, nothing to see here' folk

Packing to Move

I can feeeellll it... the change... it's starting... it's... irreversible. Was it something "they" put in the water? The 'white noise' filled with subliminals? By Monday the transformation will be complete. In the meantime management informs me that for the transformation to be complete I have to pack so they can transform me and no making one of my minions do it this time.

I've been getting all sorts of ominous emails with titles like, "Your Office Moves THIS WEEK!!!" along with "Need the Cheapest Viagra?" The cheapest? uh, no, the 'workiest' might be fun though and "Sarah Palin Wants to Meet You."

...

SARAH PALIN WANTS TO MEET ME???!!!! OMG OMG OMG ::frantically fans face:: I guess that time I had my cousin put my boxers with my name and email written with a sharpie on the waistband (I lose my boxers A LOT) in Palin's mailbox when she was on some let's look at whales and ponder the wonder of nature tour in Alaska paid off! Lemme see... OK she wants to meet in either Anaheim, CA, on Saturday, October 16th or Orlando, FL, on Saturday, October 23rd. She's a busy girl but it's nice of her to let me pick the coast, she's so thoughtful! I also have the unique opportunity to attend a special reception with her at either location. "Special reception" I bet that's some sort of code... I'm glad my wife doesn't read this blog... I hope Sarah ("Special" people such as myself are allowed to be somewhat less formal) will read The Federalist Papers in a sexy voice or something way cool like that!

WHAT minion?! Can't you see I'm working?! I'm writing a very important email about... uh... getting my job title changed to “Transparency-Enhancement Facilitator.” Yes, yes I know I have to be packed by 3pm today but the work of the Transparency-Enhancement Facilitator is never done is it? What is that thing? OK, so it's not a pod. Management wants me to pack it and put it under my desk after I'm moved on Monday and sit next to it until I get all sleepy and nod off?

FINE!

Sheesh management is weird!

Pack this Bill, it's not a pod!

All Work and No Play...

I got nuttin for today. I'm at work which is swamping me at the moment. I need to get back to the gym but probably not the rest of this week.

Futility...

The news from goFast stunned me:

Turns out that riding your bike only 11 times since June 1 is not a good training program for cyclocross. Just sayin.

It's posted on facebook so it must be true. Darn it! I immediately reply back:

ARE YOU KIDDING ME?! You mean all this 'visualizing' CRAP they've been spewing in the literature is just a pack of lies? I've been visualizing me riding my bike and losing weight like no tomorrow - and NOW I'm hearing I'm going to actually have to do it??!! - SHEESH!

Oh Well a Touch of Gray...

I'm trying for the 12,849,385,874,332nd time to get back on track and be all that I can be in the gym after another 'lost' weekend. So I'm hammering out 45mins on a spinner and pondering the following conversation I overheard, which wasn't too hard since they were standing in front of me and didn't care.

I never lent much credence to the phrase "visibly graying" until standing next to two sixteen year old girls and one of their moms. One of the girls was arguing with her mom. Apparently this has been a running family debate.

"I know when I get my car I'm driving everywhere, even to your house Melanie although you live next door."

Melanie continues her love affair with her cell phone, while mom mutters something that sets her daughter off.

"Well Beth is driving a BMW 328i, why shouldn't I?"

(Bill feels his hair going grayer)

Mom mutters something causing PrincessSpoilyPanties to fire back at her idiot mother, "I know she's a senior mom but she got the car when she was sixteen!"

(I'm starting to age at an alarming rate now... Senior? What's that have to do with what car one gets? Figuring I should ask Melanie for her cell number so I can text her what a horses ass PrincessSpoilyPanties is, I try not listening).

PrincessSpoilyPanties dials up the volume in her righteous rage, "And anyway Jeff is driving a Mercedes convertible! What do you think about that? Huh? Huh??!!"

My mind drifts thankfully, wondering if I'll ever have a similar conversation with my kids. I kind of doubt it. I don't wish PrincessSpoilyPanties well on her quest for a new car but maybe BMW 328i's are chickenfeed to her folk. Who knows?

One other thing, can anyone tell me where anywhere but San Francisco that a transgender sex shop exec could be labeled 'Conservative'??? ::rolls eyes::

Dysfunctional Fetishistic Facebookoplagia

OK I stumbled across this article for all your poor bastards who just can't help yourselves with your pathetic facebook addiction, unlike me. You can thank me by sending cash to my Cayman account.

It's a riveting article, not that I read it. I have a life and don't need some nanny lecturing me about, "While there is currently no such thing as a medically blessed diagnosable 'Facebook addiction' or 'Facebook addiction disorder' that a health or medical professional could categorically state you're suffering from, addictive behaviors have common threads that can lead to dysfunctional socializing and obsessive behaviors." Because God knows if "they" do come up with something diagnosable I'll never hear the end of it from our beloved press; facebook treatment centers will be springing up all over the place like methadone clinics and I'll watch my taxes inch even higher.

So get a grip gosh darn it before dysfunctional fetishistic facebookoplagia (oh dear Lord I just named it!) engulfs us all and we didn't even know we had it until some asocial maladroit started whining about not having enough friends so we all suck and have a problem.

The only thing I found mildly interesting about the article I didn't read was the following pic:

What on God's green earth is she looking at???!!! And if the dude is suffering from dysfunctional fetishistic facebookoplagia (I'm assuming he's the one with the problem it looks like the girl has other issues) he looks pretty happy about it.