Sudden awesomeness.

So, I'm on the phone with a friend of mine, walking through Grand Central Station. These three big 20-somethings walk by me. And right as they pass me, one of them says: "Man, it's like Grand Central Station in here!"

Oh. My. God.

I told my friend to hold on, and ran after the dude who said it.

You see, I've been coming through Grand Central Station for a 11 years, and I've never heard anyone make that joke before. It's like the most obvious joke ever, and it never occured to me. It was well delivered, and it was FUNNY.

I caught up to him and tapped him on the shoulder. He whirled around, surprised. I said to him: "Excuse me, dude. But I've been commuting forever, and I've NEVER heard anyone make that joke before. I'm kind of stunned. That was awesome. Well done."

He said: "Glad you enjoyed it. Glad I was here for you."

Then I continued my phone call with my friend.

Love to all. Even you, the guy who keeps letting his newspaper dangle over my computer monitor.

Tact.

I was reading a blog which referred to a blog so I went to the blog's blog. Say what?

I'm not going to mention it by name or link to it or anything, because this post isn't about the blog's owner, really. I don't know the dude at all. Could be a saint, could be a serial killer. I do know, though, that we have two degrees of link separation, so we've got mutual blog-friends. Besides, the last time I visited did a link-list visit, I got in all kinds of trouble.

Anyway.

The splash page of the blog has the slogan: "Tact is for pussies." The main banner is a picture of Adolf Hitler riding in a car, with the blog's owner (ice cream cone in hand) photoshopped in so that he appears to be sitting next to him.

As an ex-assistant Hebrew School teach who converted to Roman Catholicism in 2003, my first thought was: "Oh, yuck." I mean, I'm a big fan of irony and weirdness and all, but I personally don't see any reason, ever, to dilute what each and every person on the planet should think of every time they see a picture of Adolf Hitler. I feel strongly enough about it that I won't visit the blog again. Even if someone I like likes him. Even if he's a really cool dude.

I just don't want to see it.

Call me overly sensitive, but I've got no interest in peeking at a photographic Hitler cartoon on a semi-regular basis.

My second thought, though, was "I think me and this dude have different definitions of the word 'tact.'"

For me, tact isn't a weakness. It's a form of respect. And a lack of tact doesn't mean fearlessness, or not caring what other people think. Tact means "sensitivity in dealing with others or with difficult issues." I take that to mean that approaching things tactfully is actually a sign of strength and self-confidence.

It reminds me that I need to be more tactful with my children, my spouse, and the people who work for me... that I need to approach people with their needs in mind.

Tact, baby. It's for the strong.

Anyway: the dude's blog... or at least the title and header image... gave me a good bit to think about. So I'm grateful for that. It's interesting how I can sometimes react strongly to a few little words.

Love to all. Even you, the dude who justified stealing.

Temporary Dickishness.

Well, I'm over it.

I had a back and forth with the guy last night, and he explained the things which made him change directions. And while wouldn't have made the choice he made, the reasoning was... dammit... the reasoning was sound.

What's made me feel good about entire process was:

1. Professionally - he validated my interpretation of one of his pre-decision emails yesterday... the tenor of which indicated that he had suddenly gone from accepting to not - I told my staff this... so I'm glad my between-the-lines radar is still calibrated.
2. Personally - I practiced restraint of pen and tongue. Or anyone else. And now, although we lost out on closing a quarter-changing deal, we have a new potential client (he's running creative at a mid-size ad agency), and a new fan of our process. He wrote me this morning to say: "And I have to say you both have been one of the best experiences I've had with [people like you]. I also can refer you to at least 2 art directors who are looking to get out of [another company] before it shuts down."

So that's nice.

On this here blog? I wasn't so nice. But hey, if I can't vent here, where the fuck CAN I vent?

Anyway: today's another day. Capitalism + ethics = my company. Onward.

Love to all. Even you, the social studies teacher with the frequent, heavy sigh.

Played.

Biggest deal of the year. Big fee. Perfect match client and candidate. The client did everything the candidate wanted. Best benefit package I've ever seen. Hell, the senior management of this nationally renown publishing firm -- the President, Creative VP, more -- all stayed up late into the night to get this guy an offer that would make him happy, because he said he had to make a decision by early this morning.

But then, once the offer was in, he suddenly had to do "research" into something else that would take all afternoon. That was when I got suspicious.

It seems he was just playing them, in order to get a better offer somewhere else.

I understand weighing your options. I really do. But if you say: "This, this, and this would be perfect." And the response is everything you wanted plus quite a bit more, without any negotiation, you should damn well live up to your word. I know of very few companies that make the kinds of offers that these folks did. It's a rare and straightforward declaration of value.

Sure, I'm pissed that my company isn't getting a commission. It would have been tremendous. But I'm MORE pissed that this guy led us on.

Anyway. I'm going to allow myself to be miserable for another hour or two, then get over it.

Love to all. Even you, fucker.

Good question.

Evilynmo from Letters from Eve tagged me with a "7 songs you're currently into" query. This took a trip to my iPod(s), and the various "play count" lists. I think that this is only the second time I've ever responded to a tag... I liked the idea of taking a look at what I'm actually listening too... not to mention the fact that Evilynmo kind of kicks ass, in a totally wholesome and my-marital-status-appropriate way.

So here's the scoop (Song - Album - Artist):

1. Silent Shout - Silent Shout - The Knife
2. Beyond Reach - Come Clean - Curve
3. Idioteque (live) - I Might Be Wrong - Radiohead
4. R30 Overture - 30th Anniversary World Tour - Rush
5. Honey - Big Beautiful Sky - Venus Hum
6. Marvo Ging - Push the Button - The Chemical Brothers
7. Stolen Car - Central Reservation - Beth Orton

And there you are. I think I'll make a playlist of just these songs... just so I can listen to them until I'm ready to move on.

Love to all. Even you, the big lady with the lack of bodily control.

More on Atlanta, Commenters, and Decatur.

First of all: let me apologize if my comment on Decatur (and Decaturians) seemed sweepingly negative. My comment related only signs put up by a neighborhood organization, that were well-meaning but kind of depressing... like "The pain will end," or "You'll catch your breath" or something along those lines. Basically, they were trying to make us feel better about problems that may not have existed... but accidentally reminding us that we might be out of breath soon, or in lots of pain. It's like asking someone with poison ivy: "Does it itch?" :-)

Of course, it was totally from a good place. It just was funny.

The race was hard. It was really hot towards the end. And Atlanta isn't hilly, in terms of steepness, but uphill grades can last for a mile. Hell, mile 25 was a hill.

When I came to a long, long, hill, I prayed:

Thank you, God, for the opportunity to run up this hill. I am so lucky to be living a life so blessed.

I finished the race like I try to finish every race: at a sprint. This was hard, though. I tried to get myself to sprint and was, like, stuck. So I fucking GROWLED my way to a sprint, literally roaring (which I don't normally do, mind you) my way to speed... and the last 100 yards were full-on, with people yelling "GO RICHIE GO!!" It was a totally awesome moment.

I crossed the finish line and couldn't breathe for a second. And official came over and asked if I needed help. Something in the way I answered made her smile. I guess I looked bad for a second, there.

I walked back to my hotel room and immediately called Delta and switch my flight so I could leave that afternoon. There was no reason for me to stay in Atlanta, with Maggie, kids, and friends back at home. I thought I would want to recover for a day, but I didn't.

So I got the 4:45 (after trying to switch again to the 2:45, since I left myself WAY too much time to get to the airport), got my car from the LaGuardia lot, and was home by 8pm.

Phew. Adventure over.

Finally: thanks, thanks, thanks for the comments. It's such a cool thing to have blog-friends out there.

Okay. Shower time.

Love to all. Even you, the light-heavyweight who used his elbows.

ING Georgia Marathon: a personal record.

Holy crap.

I beat my NYC time by almost two minutes... although this was way harder, with 80-degree, sunny weather with reaallllly long hills.

I came in at 3:43:47. Yowza.

I just changed my flight so that I can go home tonight. This was fun, but there's no reason for me to be here, and I miss my family.

Love to all. Even you, the Decatur group that put up the most depressing "inspirational signs" I have ever, ever, seen.

View from the top.

Jeez.

If you're ever at the Omni Hotel in Atlanta, and you come back for the second time to see if your room is ready, and you think you were a little snippy about it when they told you that it's still not ready, and then you apologize for sounding snippy...

...the nice check-in lady might suddenly find a kick-ass room at the top floor with a cool deck overlooking the CNN Atrium.

I mean... I know I should be nice because that's the right way to be... but it's kind of cool that there are occasional perks to not being a dick.

Love to all. Even you, line cutter.

Terminal.

Terminal as in, posting from.

Gate 1, LaGuardia, Delta. Security line was lllllong, but I got here in plenty of time.

Whoops! They're boarding already. Crazy.

Love to all. Even you, the guy who is making a loud stink about getting bumped previously.

Atlanta, here I come!

Me? I'm heading down via airplane. My family, via the writing on the back of my shirt.

Got to get up at 4:30am tomorrow for my 6:59 flight. Talk to you from Atlanta.

Love to all. Even you, the lady who got mad because we sent her pay stubs to the address she gave us.

No no no no no.

I have strep. Low fever. Icky.

They gave me a 3-day course of Azythromycin so I don't have to take anything the day of the race. I feel like crappity crap.

Love to all.

So important.

I had dinner plans with my oldest last night. He asked me last week if, one night, he and I could go to the diner together.... just the two of us.

I got home from work at 7:25pm. My son sprinted over to me and said: "Are you ready? are you ready? This is going to be so awesome!" For a minute, there, I thought that he was confused about what we were doing... then I realized he was just thrilled to be hanging out with me.

So, God: I don't know what I did to deserve this, but: Thanks.

We were out the door by 7:35.

Dinner in our house normally takes 15 minutes at best. And it usually involves my daughter rejecting whatever Maggie made, and my youngest wanting to be finished quickly so he can have desert.

My oldest and I chilled out over omelettes toast for an hour. We had a really wide-ranging conversation about school, friends, my father, smoking, alcoholism (he does NOT know that I'm a recovered alcoholic... he actually brought it up in a completely different context)... it was, as he said later, "awesome."

He said some amazing things. He said he's glad Maggie told him about my father (and my trying to contact him recently) because it makes him understand that my father is sick... and instead of getting angry at him, he just feels bad for him. "It's sad for you and me, Dad, but it's REALLY sad for him."

My goodness.

He said: "We have a lot of traits in common, Dad."

He said: "I can tell you've worried about work, because you've been a little irritable."

He said: "I love spending time with you just you and me."

He explained the intricacies of the 5th-grade school day. He did a fabulous imitation of one of his teachers when she gets mad. He told me about his new hockey and baseball teams.

We decided to have dinner together once a month from now on. Frequent enough to be a really good thing, but infrequent enough to keep it special. Again, his idea.

So, the only way I can wrap this post is to say it again: Thanks, God. Seriously.

Love to all: even you, the commuter guy who repeatedly coughed jelly doughnut onto the train floor.

Let's not do that.

5:32am - two of my kids have been up for a while. Usually, I'm the only one up when I leave for work. Both have sore throats. Mine's been a little weird the last two days, too.

I do not want to get sick before Atlanta.

I think I might try to sleep in tomorrow morning, since that's my last chance to get a good night's sleep until Monday, most likely.

Love to all.

Insecure.

!--begin geek rant
My company is financed by an outside company. It's the only way we can afford to grow. It's an expensive proposition: they get chunk of sales off the top, and in return we get 95% of our receivables within a few days of billing them. Such is the tradeoff of the small business concern.

Sales data is entered remotely, via their extranet.

They had to set up another account for us today, because of something we were doing that required a different accounting method. I called the rep because I hadn't received my password.

She said: "It's the same as your current login."
I said, "No, I actually changed our password right after you set up the account."
She said "But I just got it and gave it to your partner. Isn't it -"

And then she told me my password.

Now, in every fucking half-secure system on the planet, passwords are encrypted, and tech people should only be able to CHANGE a user's password, not look it up and give it out. This security method allows tech people the ability to help a user who has forgotten their password, but unable pull the user's password and get into their account.

And if the passwords are just STORED somewhere in employee-accessible form, they're ripe for stealing.

I told my rep this.

She said: "What would you do with any of that information, anyway?"
I said: "For starters, I'd take all of the stored employee data and go on a massive identity theft binge."
She said: "Well, we won't hire YOU."

Ha fucking ha.

I'm kind of blown away. This place is owned by a fucking BANK. Then again, I should have suspected as much when they told me that fixing a Java error in their accounting software was a "feature request."

Shit.
!--end geek rant

Love to all. Even you, Pedro the tech guy.

Briefly.

• Up at 5am.
• Train at 5:45am.
• AA meeting at 7:30am.
• Work at 8:40am.
• Work completely non-stop until 5:35pm.
• Train home at 6pm.
• <-----I am here----->
  
• Arrive at home train station at 7pm.
• Pick up son at hockey at 7:10pm.
• Get Maggie home at 7:20pm.
• Maggie leaves at 7:20pm.
• Put youngest kids to bed at 8pm.
• Run 4 miles at 8:15pm
• Try to sleep sometime before 11pm.

Love to all. Even you, Chompy McChewalot.

Not so funny.

"What's Bush going to do after he leaves office... teach?"

The audience laughed heartily. It was, after all, an NPR show, and NPR is famously liberal, right?

But you know what? It's pretty pathetic when the idea of your current President attempting to teach a course is obviously laughable, because the guy's so factually inept and logically splintered.

Leader of my country, indeed. Sigh.

Love to all. Even you, the guy with the tan khakis and dust-covered fleece pullover.

Small claims, big money.

I just came from New York City small claims court. We had three different claims against the same company, covering various invoices over the course of time. The client is a notorious deadbeat who has scammed dozens of people out of tens of thousands of dollars. The way I found out that we were in serious trouble was when my new partners saw we were working with them. Turns out they had owed them $40,000 a couple of years ago.

The owners of my first company got tagged as well, having worked with them a year ago. I found this out over lunch.

This time, though, it seems they are actually declaring bankruptcy: the CFO, the Creative Director, and other employees of their firm are sending resumes out left and right.

Small claims court was actually fun. My friend Lisa went with me, and we basically chit-chatted for three hours. She wanted to see what it was like, because she's starting a claim of her own.

My case was called dead last. DEAD LAST. The funny thing? The only other time I was in small claims court, the same thing happened. Dead last.

My opponent didn't even bother to show. This is good, because I presented my well -documented (if I do say so myself) case without opposition. This is bad, because it means they can present an excuse to the judge, if they so choose. If the judge buys it, we have to do this again.

Anyway. I'm a bit fried and a bit tired, but I'm really happy that I have a business that can get tagged for 12 grand and not close, friends who will sit with me in court for hours, and a family at home that will be glad to see me... if they're awake.

Love to all. Even you, The Weiss Family.

Shark! Sharrrrrrk!

In the summer of last year, I told my son that when he beats me in ping-pong I would let him watch Jaws. I was confident in the fact that it would take years. YEARS! The DVD would remain on the shelf, unwrapped and pristine, until well into the 2010's. Heck, we'd probably need to buy the NEXT video format, because DVD would be totally obsolete by the time he beat me.

We watched it last night. I forgot what a terrific movie it was. Quint is the man.

Love to all, even you, Mayor Vaughan.

p.s. 21-19.

Sensitive, unbelievably self-aware.

My son was really touchy last night. We were playing Fight Night 3 on the XBOX 360... and little jokes that were normally part of our banter made him get all sullen and depressed. He was playing the game with this really sad face, doing that thing kids do where they make every body gesture with that sad air of defeat.

At first, I got a bit annoyed, because it's no fun to play with someone when they're acting all bummed out. But I self-intervened and instead asked him what the scoop was...

...and lo and behold, he talked.

My 10-year-old boy is so unbelievably self-aware that he actually said: Dad, I think because I don't react when I get picked on so much in school I get upset by things that normally wouldn't bother me at home.

So we talked about the kids who make fun of him. The kids who constantly use the f-bomb. Who make fun of him because we don't let him watch TV-MA or most TV-14 shows. More importantly, HE talked about it, and how it made him feel.

It's hard for me to talk to him about this stuff, because I want SO much to:

1. Give him advice, which he doesn't want.
2. Go and beat the crap out of the boy's fathers with a fucking bat, which would be setting a bad example and, um, illegal.

In the end, I did a lot of listening... but also told him that he should know that he's not a doormat, and if he feels that kicking some kid in the balls would shut that kid up, well, I'd back him up if he got in trouble for doing it.

Now: I wouldn't say this to most kids... including my other two. Because they'd consider it a license to do it. But my boy doesn't. He just REALLY needs to know that we're there for him, and that we'll support him. Maggie has given him her own version of this speech.

We're meeting with all of his teachers in a little over a week to talk about how things are going for him, socially and academically. I'm interested to see their persepctive.

This parenting thing can be hard... but what I have to remember is that it's not as hard as being a kid.

Love to all. Even you, the parent who tried to kick an oncoming sled.

ADHD recap, week one.

For those of you keeping score, I just finished my first work week on 40mg of Adderall XR. And I finished it a tad early, because it's snowing like crazy where I live, so I want to get home while the roads are still passable. I'm actually leaving the Miata at the train station... Maggie is picking me up in the 4wd.

So: what's interesting about this medicine is, first of all, how much it's taught me about the LAST medicine. When I first started Adderall (fast release), I became a smile-free superman, handling every task, folding every piece of laundry, cleaning every part of my office.

And when that effect starting wearing off, I thought the medicine wasn't working anymore.

Now I know differently.

Adderall XR is much more subtle. I don't feel RADICALLY different, yet I'm able to work at my desk for a couple of hours at a time. I am forgetting to eat, though. Have to work on that.

The thing is, I think THIS is what Adderall (fast) was supposed to do in the first place.... not the Superman thing. I wish that my doc had given me a little more experiential advice.

Anyway. VERY interesting evening with my son tonight. I'll write about that later.

Love to all. Even you, the irritable woman who gets mad when other women are irritable.