Sick Leave
Hello World,
Feliz Cinco de Mayo! [Insert upside-down exclamation point at beginning of paragraph.] It seems like we just get finished with the jolly Russkies doing their famous Russian sword dances around Red Square for May Day, and suddenly here we have the jolly cabelleros doing their famous Mexican hat dances around the plaza for Cinco de Mayo. Everyone gets to be Mexican for a day, and celebrate the Battle of the Pueblo, so get out there and party your pantalones off. Well, maybe not quite that far, but have a good time anyway, because after all, Cinco de Mayo only comes once a year.
Not so fast! In a peculiar turn of events that would seem impossible even by the laxity of modern thinking, where there are no standards any more, I discovered that Cinco de Mayo does not only come once a year. As incomprehensible as it might be to rational people, but in keeping with the way these things seem to go nowadays, it turns out that even Cinco de Mayo has joined the ranks of movable feasts, and we have the city of Yonkers to thank for having their Cinco de Mayo celebration in April, of all things. They seemed to have a high old time of it, complete with pictures and feature articles in the local press, and never a mention of the purists huddled in alleyways, wailing and gnashing their teeth at it being about 10 days too early. I mean, it's one thing to push around St. Patrick or even Thanksgiving, which are holidays that have just been randomly assigned to certain days by committee, but I think it's a whole different kettle of fish, or perhaps tequila, when you take a holiday that's named after the day that it happened, and just decide to celebrate it on whatever day you darned well feel like it, no matter what. It's like having your 4th of July parade on June 25th, because that's when the bandstand was available. I honestly can't understand who comes up with these ideas, but I have to say that I just don't go for it, and I think we can all stand firm with our Mexican brothers and sisters and say as if with one voice, "Ai carumba."
In another peculiar turn of events, I came down with a bad head cold in the middle of the week, and ended up staying home from the office for a few days, even though our injured co-worker has only returned to work on a sort of part-time basis, in spite of what we were led to believe. She hasn't put in a full week, or a full day, since her return, and normally I wouldn't leave the office unmanned under the circumstances, but it was unavoidable. I took to my bed with a scratchy throat and sniffles, and my head felt like a block of cement, except that cement at least has air holes that you can breathe through, while my nose didn't. I couldn't swallow, and trying to eat without being able to breathe presented a challenge that I was not equal to. I said to Bill that it was very strange that it just came out of the blue like that, and hit me like a ton of bricks, because I literally did not know of one single solitary other person who was sick. No one in my family was sick, no one at work and no one at church, so I have no idea where I could have gotten something that just laid me so low. In fact, the only one that I know of who was sneezing was one of our cats, so I told Little Spot that she made me sick, although if this inspired in her the sense of guilt that I was intending, she managed to hide it surprisingly well with an eloquent shrug of indifference. I can tell you that was not the reaction that I was looking for, believe me.
Meanwhile, I regret that I have to report that there is no joy in Mudville, at least in our household, because the New York Rangers, whose season opened bright with promise in October, found their hopes dashed in the murky waters of April when they were eliminated from the playoffs, much to the disappointment of their loyal fans. They played well all year, surprising even their harshest critics and nay-sayers, and even set a number of team or league records, but in the end, it wasn't enough to overcome their opponents in the opening round of the championship. All along, it seemed like they were having a charmed season, so it was especially disappointing to have the season end the way it did, and once again, we find ourselves watching the playoff picture evolve from the outside looking in, except for the fact that we don't watch the hockey playoffs when the Rangers aren't in them. On the other hand, the revitalized New York Mets started their season with a bang, getting off to about their best start ever, and setting a league record of having a six-game lead on the second place team in the first month of play. They showed no signs of slowing down, going 16-8 in April, and in fact, last week I asked Bill what their magic number was. At this point in the season, it would probably be about 130, but I'm thinking, what the heck, there's no sense in waiting for the last minute to figure these things out.
In other sports news, some of us were not surprised to find a professional athlete being arrested on DWI charges here in scenic Westchester County, although here in the suburbs we find 11:00 AM to be just a wee bit early to start that sort of behavior. It turned out to be Sandis Ozolinsh, who was acquired by the New York Rangers at the trading deadline in March from the San Jose Sharks, when they suddenly needed to replace one of their injured defensemen, and at the time, we all thought it was a fortuitous opportunity that Ozolinsh was even available. He's a young, strapping fellow originally from Latvia (as is Rangers teammate Darius Kasparaitis) and he did a commendable job filling in on defense, providing some offense, and being a large and intimidating force along the boards. For those of us who wondered how he came to be available, when he seemed to have a lot to offer and worth keeping, it wasn't until the season was over and one of the announcers let slip that he was impressed how well he had played, considering he had voluntarily checked himself into the NHL's substance abuse program earlier in the season. Now this is where I have to wonder what people are thinking when they make these deals, and bear in mind that they already know all of this stuff is going on. Who is the genius who says, "Hey, I've got an idea. Let's send this guy to New York City. That ought to keep him out of trouble." Hello? Am I on the same planet as these people, and does no one else see this as a ticking time bomb that is just what it turns out to be, an accident waiting to happen? I mean, if you've already got a substance problem in sunny San Jose, brother, I can't believe that anyone in their right mind would think that coming to New York would be the solution. Hey, I'm on cold medication and my brain isn't working, and even I can figure that one out.
Last week at work, we very nearly had one of those inadvertently funny moments when I walked into a stairwell on my way to lunch, and didn't notice until it was too late that someone else was coming into the same stairwell with me, or I would have held the door open for her. I apologized and said that I didn't hear her coming, and was just about to say, "After all, I wouldn't want you think I was one of those snobby people that would slam the door in your face, like the doctors do around here," when I noticed that the two people coming down the stairs in front of us, yes, were in fact, two doctors who would be exactly the snobby sort that would slam the door in our faces. So in the spirit of "timing is everything," it was a lucky thing that I didn't say that when I first thought of it, and waited until after they left the stairwell to share that with the other lady, and we had a good laugh over that later.
Usually when I poke fun at our crack staff in the IT department, it's because of their baffling consistency at sending out messages riddled with typos, even though the messages basically say the same thing every day, or even several times a day, when you would expect them to have that pretty much down to a science ("Can you spell 'macro'?") by now. But this message from last week really got my attention:
============================
attention all users:
the dayend is still running.
you can not sign on the
system for at least an hour.
=============================
Now, this message happened to be from Saturday, and I saw it on Monday morning. But the fact of the matter is that on our network at the hospital, you can't see any of the messages unless you're already signed on, so the only way anyone would know that the dayend was still running and they couldn't sign on, would be for them to sign on and see this message that said they couldn't sign on. If that doesn't entirely defeat the purpose of this message, well then I don't know what would, but it certainly left me shaking my head.
Also in the head-shaking category around here, last week in my travels around town I saw a full-size pickup truck, and no kidding, it actually had a spoiler at the back on top of the tailgate, like it was trying to be some sort of a sports car. This is the automotive equivalent of a mixed metaphor, because after all, the whole point of a spoiler is ..... oh, never mind. These are certainly challenging times for us purists, when there are no standards any more and no one seems to care. Or perhaps it just seems that way to me because I'm sick, and I should call to have the doctor come over, so I could slam the door in his face. Say, I feel better already!
Feliz Cinco de Mayo! [Insert upside-down exclamation point at beginning of paragraph.] It seems like we just get finished with the jolly Russkies doing their famous Russian sword dances around Red Square for May Day, and suddenly here we have the jolly cabelleros doing their famous Mexican hat dances around the plaza for Cinco de Mayo. Everyone gets to be Mexican for a day, and celebrate the Battle of the Pueblo, so get out there and party your pantalones off. Well, maybe not quite that far, but have a good time anyway, because after all, Cinco de Mayo only comes once a year.
Not so fast! In a peculiar turn of events that would seem impossible even by the laxity of modern thinking, where there are no standards any more, I discovered that Cinco de Mayo does not only come once a year. As incomprehensible as it might be to rational people, but in keeping with the way these things seem to go nowadays, it turns out that even Cinco de Mayo has joined the ranks of movable feasts, and we have the city of Yonkers to thank for having their Cinco de Mayo celebration in April, of all things. They seemed to have a high old time of it, complete with pictures and feature articles in the local press, and never a mention of the purists huddled in alleyways, wailing and gnashing their teeth at it being about 10 days too early. I mean, it's one thing to push around St. Patrick or even Thanksgiving, which are holidays that have just been randomly assigned to certain days by committee, but I think it's a whole different kettle of fish, or perhaps tequila, when you take a holiday that's named after the day that it happened, and just decide to celebrate it on whatever day you darned well feel like it, no matter what. It's like having your 4th of July parade on June 25th, because that's when the bandstand was available. I honestly can't understand who comes up with these ideas, but I have to say that I just don't go for it, and I think we can all stand firm with our Mexican brothers and sisters and say as if with one voice, "Ai carumba."
In another peculiar turn of events, I came down with a bad head cold in the middle of the week, and ended up staying home from the office for a few days, even though our injured co-worker has only returned to work on a sort of part-time basis, in spite of what we were led to believe. She hasn't put in a full week, or a full day, since her return, and normally I wouldn't leave the office unmanned under the circumstances, but it was unavoidable. I took to my bed with a scratchy throat and sniffles, and my head felt like a block of cement, except that cement at least has air holes that you can breathe through, while my nose didn't. I couldn't swallow, and trying to eat without being able to breathe presented a challenge that I was not equal to. I said to Bill that it was very strange that it just came out of the blue like that, and hit me like a ton of bricks, because I literally did not know of one single solitary other person who was sick. No one in my family was sick, no one at work and no one at church, so I have no idea where I could have gotten something that just laid me so low. In fact, the only one that I know of who was sneezing was one of our cats, so I told Little Spot that she made me sick, although if this inspired in her the sense of guilt that I was intending, she managed to hide it surprisingly well with an eloquent shrug of indifference. I can tell you that was not the reaction that I was looking for, believe me.
Meanwhile, I regret that I have to report that there is no joy in Mudville, at least in our household, because the New York Rangers, whose season opened bright with promise in October, found their hopes dashed in the murky waters of April when they were eliminated from the playoffs, much to the disappointment of their loyal fans. They played well all year, surprising even their harshest critics and nay-sayers, and even set a number of team or league records, but in the end, it wasn't enough to overcome their opponents in the opening round of the championship. All along, it seemed like they were having a charmed season, so it was especially disappointing to have the season end the way it did, and once again, we find ourselves watching the playoff picture evolve from the outside looking in, except for the fact that we don't watch the hockey playoffs when the Rangers aren't in them. On the other hand, the revitalized New York Mets started their season with a bang, getting off to about their best start ever, and setting a league record of having a six-game lead on the second place team in the first month of play. They showed no signs of slowing down, going 16-8 in April, and in fact, last week I asked Bill what their magic number was. At this point in the season, it would probably be about 130, but I'm thinking, what the heck, there's no sense in waiting for the last minute to figure these things out.
In other sports news, some of us were not surprised to find a professional athlete being arrested on DWI charges here in scenic Westchester County, although here in the suburbs we find 11:00 AM to be just a wee bit early to start that sort of behavior. It turned out to be Sandis Ozolinsh, who was acquired by the New York Rangers at the trading deadline in March from the San Jose Sharks, when they suddenly needed to replace one of their injured defensemen, and at the time, we all thought it was a fortuitous opportunity that Ozolinsh was even available. He's a young, strapping fellow originally from Latvia (as is Rangers teammate Darius Kasparaitis) and he did a commendable job filling in on defense, providing some offense, and being a large and intimidating force along the boards. For those of us who wondered how he came to be available, when he seemed to have a lot to offer and worth keeping, it wasn't until the season was over and one of the announcers let slip that he was impressed how well he had played, considering he had voluntarily checked himself into the NHL's substance abuse program earlier in the season. Now this is where I have to wonder what people are thinking when they make these deals, and bear in mind that they already know all of this stuff is going on. Who is the genius who says, "Hey, I've got an idea. Let's send this guy to New York City. That ought to keep him out of trouble." Hello? Am I on the same planet as these people, and does no one else see this as a ticking time bomb that is just what it turns out to be, an accident waiting to happen? I mean, if you've already got a substance problem in sunny San Jose, brother, I can't believe that anyone in their right mind would think that coming to New York would be the solution. Hey, I'm on cold medication and my brain isn't working, and even I can figure that one out.
Last week at work, we very nearly had one of those inadvertently funny moments when I walked into a stairwell on my way to lunch, and didn't notice until it was too late that someone else was coming into the same stairwell with me, or I would have held the door open for her. I apologized and said that I didn't hear her coming, and was just about to say, "After all, I wouldn't want you think I was one of those snobby people that would slam the door in your face, like the doctors do around here," when I noticed that the two people coming down the stairs in front of us, yes, were in fact, two doctors who would be exactly the snobby sort that would slam the door in our faces. So in the spirit of "timing is everything," it was a lucky thing that I didn't say that when I first thought of it, and waited until after they left the stairwell to share that with the other lady, and we had a good laugh over that later.
Usually when I poke fun at our crack staff in the IT department, it's because of their baffling consistency at sending out messages riddled with typos, even though the messages basically say the same thing every day, or even several times a day, when you would expect them to have that pretty much down to a science ("Can you spell 'macro'?") by now. But this message from last week really got my attention:
============================
attention all users:
the dayend is still running.
you can not sign on the
system for at least an hour.
=============================
Now, this message happened to be from Saturday, and I saw it on Monday morning. But the fact of the matter is that on our network at the hospital, you can't see any of the messages unless you're already signed on, so the only way anyone would know that the dayend was still running and they couldn't sign on, would be for them to sign on and see this message that said they couldn't sign on. If that doesn't entirely defeat the purpose of this message, well then I don't know what would, but it certainly left me shaking my head.
Also in the head-shaking category around here, last week in my travels around town I saw a full-size pickup truck, and no kidding, it actually had a spoiler at the back on top of the tailgate, like it was trying to be some sort of a sports car. This is the automotive equivalent of a mixed metaphor, because after all, the whole point of a spoiler is ..... oh, never mind. These are certainly challenging times for us purists, when there are no standards any more and no one seems to care. Or perhaps it just seems that way to me because I'm sick, and I should call to have the doctor come over, so I could slam the door in his face. Say, I feel better already!
posted by El Tango Fandango @ 9:01 PM
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