21st Century Office

The company I work for was finally free of the terrible lease that the old owners forced upon the new owners, and we built a new facility and moved in today.

I used to have a desk with a couple of file cabinets inconveniently located for my use. The work area was so small that I couldn't keep up with the paperwork that crossed my desk. No amount of "clutter-free" hints, tips, and booklets could help me.

Now, in my new, modern work area (similar to one that every other office puke in America is used to) I have lots of space to fill with my paperwork. Instead of sharing a wastebasket, I'll have one of my very own. Instead of trying to "shush" people while I made phone calls, I have some privacy, and the traffic pattern is no longer centered around my workstation.

The washrooms are modern, and it only takes one flush to take care of my business.

Because I'm a top producer, I have a "window seat" which may sound glamorous, except I have to fight the glare on my computer screen. I'm not really complaining, though. I'm loving it.

Because I have worked for companies that have modern workstations, I expect these kinds of facilities. There are co-workers, however, who are resentful of the move. They don't understand why we needed to move; they are fearful and anxious. Perhaps they feel that way because this move signals that we are in THE BIG TIME. We're the market leader in our industry, and have been of many years. It was painful to bring customers to our old office. I'm very proud of the new place.

Our management has recognized that our self-image could use some polishing. Starting Monday, a new dress code will be in place. It's about time. Our workstations will not be home to meals and radios and lots of photos taped tackily. We're in THE BIG TIME now.

Not to mention, any company that wants to buy us out will have to pony up some real dough, now!!

No longer a little boy

I have a little down time as we pack up our office and move to a new place.

My son graduated to "Big Boy" status last week. He strapped on a back pack and got on a school bus for his first day of school.

I try not to brag too much about my son. Both of my children are great kids. I've written about my daughter in the past; she is a very special girl. My son, who started kindergarten last Thursday, reads at a 2nd grade level, can do math problems including multiplication. He understands most of the jokes in his beloved "Captain Underpants" books. His vocabulary is amazing. His teachers will love him, and he'll have no friends because none of them will be able to conduct a conversation on his level.

Don't get me wrong, he's still 5 years old. He can be the goofiest kid I know. On the first two days of a school, he got lost and ended up with the first graders after lunch.

And the boy loves his Legos. The Legos tell me just how brilliant he is. The things he builds, and the imagination he brings to his creations tell me that we're going to have our hands full keeping this kid interested, engaged, and stimulated. Granted, Legos are much cooler than when I was a kid and had 5 basic blocks in 5 colors. The 'new' Legos allow a child to express himself in amazing ways.

Anyhow, as he was getting on the bus, I mentioned to my wife "we'll remember this day when he leaves for Northwestern".

And suddenly, we both felt very sad, and very old.

Yippee!!

I finally gathered the patience required to learn how to insert links into my template.

It was very easy, once I had a template that lent itself to inserting links.

Never too busy...

....to mention that Pat Robertson is an idiot.

Kid with a New Toy

Now that it's easier to upload photos, I can't wait to start "illustrating" my blog.

Buzz Words

There's a new "buzz" word out there...Soft Core Porn.

In our local newspapers, a cosmetic surgery clinic runs advertisments that feature a buxom woman in a knit bathing suit, showing off a trim tummy and a nice set of breasts. While eye catching, it isn't any more provocative than a swim suit ad in the Sunday Target flier.

In a recent letter to the editor, a reader took the publication to task for running this ad, calling it "Soft Core Pornography". Now, I've seen soft core porn; you know, the stuff that is on Cinimax on late Friday nights. You see naked women, snatches of pubic hair (pun intended), and simulated sex acts. No erections, no money shots. I prefer it to hard core, if only because after Shauna Grant, the whole hard core industry turned my stomach (yes, I know I'm splitting hairs here, but, hey, it's my blog).

A few weeks ago, a co-worker who I admire (and a recent born-again churchgoer) was complaining about the attire of a woman in our office who wore a short skirt on casual day. She said "We've got soft core porn going on in the office". Naturally, my ears perked up. After chatting, I discovered that there are "born-again" groups who are now labelling anything that is provocative as Soft Core Porn.

How quaint.

I guess it speaks well to their ignorance of Soft Core Porn. Afterall, if they really knew what SCP was, they wouldn't be calling swim suit model ads SCP.

Let's all pay attention to this phenomenom; and take the opportunity to educate our righteous brethren to what soft core porn really is.