Narnia Other Door Please

As I wandered around looking for a conference room to commandeer for the morning, I noticed a mysterious addition to the floor. Now that I think of it, there were some Workplace Resource types milling about and changing signage to conference rooms and closets.

Where there was once signage for a Janitor Closet, an ominous sounding Field Productivity sign took its place. I remember what the closet used to look like -- identical in size to a nook one would find in his/her (diversity in writing good. subliminal training sinking in. suddenly want to drink more Coke) home wherein one would store a mop, a broom, and perhaps a duster or two. But now! Field Productivity! I asked around but no one seems to know what the new room is for. All they know is that the room seems to get heavier traffic near quarter end. And rumor has it that salesfolk who visit the Productivity Closet, tend to emerge a superstar...or not at all.

River Runs Thru It

I dunno why, but I really can't stay awake on planes. Try as I may, I rarely stay up past the announcement of the Very Important Announcement that explains all the safety features on the Airbus 319. On this flight, I got up to the part of the floatation device and the pull-cord, but blacked out during the demonstration. To this day, I'm not sure what the pull-string does. Since we'd be hurtling toward the sea at roughly 300 mph, I imagine that I'd pull the string and out pops a mini-bottle of Wild Turkey. Who knows? Not I.

Falling asleep is a good thing, and I don't mind; it's the perfect way to wile away the hours on a long flight. Every now and then though, when I'm totally out (out out as in REM sleep mode during Derivative Pricing class), my jaws go slack, and my mouth falls agape like a trapdoor. This used to be problematic on road trips with friends because I'd become a target for three-pointers using airline peanuts. That was a long time ago -- planes don't serve peanuts anymore. At any rate, the peanuts were helpful in that it prevented me from staying in mouth-agape-out-cold mode. These days, with no one to roust me, my mouth stays open. And sometimes (like 15 minutes ago), I wake up with a start as a stream of drool curls around the corner of my mouth. I usually catch these stealthy streams before it has a chance to go very far (foiled again! would've gotten away with it if it weren't for you pesky kids!), but today, the NORAD defense systems did not kick in on time. The dribble ran unabated past my chin before I was able to wake up. Worst part is, I instinctively tried to recover the errant stream with a sluuuurrrrrpt sound, but did nothing more than attract attention to myself. I imagined that everyone was looking my way, music scratching to an abrupt halt in a old time western saloon as the Stranger rides into town. For about 15 minutes, I stay motionless with my eyes closed, hoping that when I do open my eyes, I won't find the lady next to me pointing and laughing...

But life in the airplane returns to normal, and I sit in seat 10C writing this blog.

What's in a Name?

Dashing to a meeting, I ran into an exec from my new department. I'm awful with names, as an earlier post illustrates. I sat there for an interminable snapshot in time wracking my brain. The funny thing is, I could totally see her email alias floating in my head. I just couldn't remember how to pronounce her name. Her name is spelled "Jere" but I couldn't for the dwindling life of me remember if it's pronounced "Jerry" like Seinfeld or "Jeer" as in what I get for not remembering. So I compromise -- "Good morning Jeeeery."

As polished as she is, there was only the briefest flicker of front-desk-get-me-security before she returned the greeting with perfect pronounciation on my somehwhat harder to remember name...

Part of a Nutritional Breakfast

This morn was the first day I participated in a community runner's group. We got together at 6am, which waking up aside, was refreshing -- especially given the utterly ridiculous children's-toys-melting-on-the-asphalt weather we've been having.

The exercise-induces endophrines were short-lived however. In my haste to get my butt out of bed this morn, I had forgotten to pack my shower shoes; those cheap rubber flip-flop beach sandals often worn, well, on the beach. Why does that matter? Well, if you have to ask, then you have never had the pleasure of utilizing a public shower facility. Picture the delectable sensation of running one's toes through the fragrant mildewy slime on the bottom of a trash bin that has been sitting outside with the remnants of last week's dinner party. Yum! That's why shower shoes. ..

Whatchoo lookin' at???

Reminds me of the expression a fellow commuter had on her face as she looked up from her Blackberry and saw the tail end of a Mustang veer across her bumper.

Guru on High

Ok so I'm a food 'ho. Buy me a Chik-Fil-A (We Didn't Invent the Chicken, Just the Chicken Sandwich) and I will arrive at the meeting 1 hour early and help set up the room. I'm also pretty non-picky with what I eat - call me equal opportunity.

But last nite, I met the Masta. Well not met, actually, as I was too in awe to speak. The halo of greatness was just too blinding.

There I was, back in the bustling metropolis of Raleigh. I ordered room service - a reuben sandwich with fries. Couldn't finish the dang thing, so I shoved the tray thru the door and gave it no further thought. A few hours later, got a hankerin' for some coffee so I meandered down to the lobby for a fix. As I was leaving, I saw that the remnants of my meal was still in the hallway. I get my coffee and head back to my room for an exciting night of white-knuckled adrenaline pumpin' email cleanup. That's when I saw him. Youngish guy, about my age, but perhaps 20 or so pounds heavier. Untucked, slightly greasy looking button-down flopping defiantly over a tech company giveaway tshirt. He reached down to my leftovers, picked out a french fry, and popped it into his mouth. "ugh mustard. I hate mustard," he muttered. He then adjusted the strap on his laptop case, and strode casually down the hall. And like a cowboy riding into the sunset, the mystery stranger shuffled down the dim hotel hallway. I stood for a moment in awed silence, with only the flickering
flourecents witness to this cosmic moment...

This my friends, is why I travel.

Metamucil

Fourth of July fireworks...

These things typically start with lots of pomp and anticipation beforehand, but are real slow to get started. This one was scheduled to start at 9:30pm. Five minutes after the scheduled start date, the first poof goes up in a brilliant shower of red and greens. Then...silence. Three minutes later, a second one goes up. Equally pretty. But then more silence. Another three minutes. Then a third, then prolonged silence. The crowd's hushed anticipation gradually changes to murmurs of discontent. If this were a human body, I thought, I would prescribe more dietary fiber.

Suddenly, as though my thoughts of roughage, exercise, and plenty of water were what the doctor ordered, the skies were alight with explosion after explosion of intense colors and light! And after one mighty prolonged burst of shells, the crowd erupts in applause, sighs in contentment and the show is over.

Happy Independence Day!

On the Shrink's Couch

Something about UK that always psyches me out. I wrote about this little complex almost a year ago -- but that was only when one British colleague was visiting San Jose. Today, I'm the visitor. And that magnifies and intensifies the inferiority complex.

Flashback to several hours ago to a Proudly Serving Starbucks pseudo coffee bar:

"Tall coffee, room for cream, thank you," I say.
"Pardon?" asks the barista
"Um, tall coffee, room for cream?" I reply, suddenly self-conscious.
"Come again?"
"(ah of course, perhaps they refer by cup size) Oh, a 16oz please"
"eh?"
"(how silly of me, I need to convert to metrics!) Sorry, I meant a 14.72 cubic cm coffee please."
"...???"

Finally, a bemused local colleague steps in to save me.

"16oz coffee, mate. Cheerio."
"Brilliant, here you go! Cheers!."

Mark my words, one day, I shall learn their secret handshake.

The 100 yard stare

Zzzzzz. Got into London at 6:30am. Stood in the customs queue forever, amongst throngs of ripe-smelling, irritable, summer vacationers. Once that was done, waited another 30min for the Hotel Hoppa, checked in to the hotel, napped, overslept (1hr planned, 3hr actual), showered, and headed for the office.

I chugged a can of Red Bull and chased that with a espresso, right before the meeting. Nice buzz. But hardly alert. It gave me a crazy spinning adrenaline feeling, but with only a blip of mental activity behind it. I had a persistent anxiety feeling, like those cartoon characters that know that the 400lb iron is about to fall on their head, but hoping really hard that it won't happen this time. The wide-eyed, zoned out look was reflective of that. Or so I thought.

"Hideo, your look tells me that you're not convinced. How about if I lay these data points in front of you....Still no? What if I said the cost is half of what's on this slide? No? How about if time to execution is shaved by a week?"

I didn't hear a single word the vendor was saying. But apparently we drove a hard bargain.

Be Still My Beating Heart

From a company benefits mailer I received this morn.

========
Dear HIDEO,

As a recent user of the TRP, we want to make you aware of upcoming enhancements that will provide you with a faster and easier process for submitting your applications and requesting your reimbursements! Here are the exciting enhancements you will see effective July 5, 2006:

New Fax Number:

New Processing Request Form:

=========

Even one of these by itself is cause for irrational exuberance...but BOTH a new fax number and new form???

Madness! Pure Madness I say!

I am all a-tingle with excitement!

Food for Thought

Quote heard on the morning radio:

"I like pastries, but dead animals rule!"

I dunno why, but that conjures up images of Denver to me.

Father's Day Gifts

Yesterday was father's day, so I got me some goodies from the young'uns. Rei gave me a mousepad that he made himself, which was very nicely done. It came with a worksheet that he had to fill in. Sample: My Dad ________ at work. He filled out: My Dad plays with the computer at work. I was going to correct him, but then I thought hmm...ok good point. Checking World Cup scores probably falls in that category. Playing conference call jargon bingo may cross the line as well. "Cross-functional synergies" BINGO!

My daughter Anna gave me a fridge magnet in the shape of a necktie. However, since she never saw me wear a tie in her 3+ years of consciousness, she thought it was a sock... Reminds me of the last time I wore a tie -- almost 5 years ago as a salesperson in Tokyo. I had fallen asleep on the train, mouth agape, and lurched awake just in time to miss the drool that dripped from the corner of my mouth to my new tie. On second thought, maybe a clean sock is preferable to that.

Whine and Cheese

In Chicago till Wednesday. Great eats town, according to my colleagues, so I'm pretty psyched. Sure the conference was meanigful and all, but now the Main Event. Food! But my elation was short lived. We went to a place called Bin 36, a wine affecianado place. Don't get me wrong, the place was a lively, modern joint. It's just that....ok, I'll just say it. Wine and its rituals terrify me.

I order last in a table of six. Each person sounds like they're Alex Trabek, over-emphsizing and dramatically pronouncing French and pseudo-French words. My palate is not so distinguished nor sophisticated -- color and temperature is as far as I get. Red. White. Cold. Not Cold. When it got to my turn to order, I just stammered, "Um, Ann that, that...thing you ordered? Sounds delightful. I'll have that as well." Even after I drank the white cold wine, I still have no idea what she ordered.

I sat next to another colleague who tried valiantly to give me a crash course. "Suck air in as you sip -- it opens up the wine, " she says. I did, and sucked the damned drink into my lungs and opened up my nasal passages instead. "Lively and light, balanced with pristine minerals vibrant with acidity, right?"she remarked. I can think of some people that fit that description, but as for the wine, all I could think of was, "Yes, it is indeed white. And cold!"

And all this hubub about regions! Mosel-Saar-Ruwer? I know that's in Germany somewhere, but why don't they just say Aisle 3 of the Produce Asile? Heck, *that* is where I would get *my* grapes. There's a special this week ya know.

Web 2.0.1

Have you ever innocently walked into an exec-type's office, only to encounter the Mood Ring on Blood Red, and become the innocent-bystander-hit-by-crossfire?

Worse yet, have you ever done so when the exec-type's ire was due to something you did (or forgot to do)?

Well fret no more!

Thanks to a well-placed special agent with a clear view to exec office, you can now have advanced warning.

Current weather: cloudy with a chance of sun later in the afternoon.

...URGENT ADVISORY...URGENT ADVISORY....

weather has suddenly turned turbulent. High winds, lighting, chance of meterorites.
Advise evacuation from premises.

...URGENT ADVISORY...URGENT ADVISORY....

I call it The Executive Weather Report subscription, available via RSS feed. And all it costs is lunch maybe once a week.

Venture capitalists, take a number and stand in line.

You're a Really Useful Engine!

Today is the Big Move. All of our furniture is in the old place, so we've been doing the camp thing at our new pad for the past two weeks. Spending the night in sleeping bags and using two upside-down boxes for dining tables is fun for, maybe 2 hours, tops. And those two hours are daylight two hours - stumbling around after dark is no picnic. Primitive cavemen would have discovered fire much sooner if they had flipped the light switch and found the matches in the top drawer. Fossil records and cave drawings confirm this. Be that as it may....Finally, we are about to be welcomed back to civilization. Beds, lights, chairs!

But first, a bit of awkward purgatory.

The movers are here now, doing their moving thing, but I don't quite know what I should be doing. Do I help? No...that's why I hired them. Do I make idle chatter, despite the fact that I despise it when folks do that to me when I'm busy? So I shamble aimlessly from room to room, and end up in the garage. And here is where I type away on my Treo.

Who Knew?

Am I the only one in the room that doesn't know that Laura Mercier is a cosmetic? Was it so dumb a question for me to ask, "Is she the new intern?"

Gotta be better than "Ice Age 2"

I find these Disney ice shows pretty annoying. Don't get me wrong, the kids and I really enjoyed watching the original Pixar film. Again and again and again. I can even recite Mr. Ray, the Manta Ray's little ditty as he sails across the ocean floor.

However, this..this..ice thing is where I draw the line. Let me see..former runner-up Olympians and former hockey players + stuffed animal costumes = pure family fun! Put them on skates and it's so much rapture that it should be used only for medicinal purposes!

Wait, why not take it one step further? Let's re-adapt the concept and do a live-action Nemo film!! We can call it:

"Disney on Ice presents. Finding Nemo: the Movie"

movin' movin' movin', keep them puppies rollin'

We spent the weekend doing a gradual move into our new place. Gradual, because we only moved like 5 miles down the street, and we still haven't sold the old place yet. No time pressure, but still a ton to do.

The young'uns, 6 and 3, had to entertain themselves for most of the day while we painted, cleaned, trimmed, fixed, and collapesed in an exhausted heap.

Here's a partial list of Fun Games for Kids to Play while Parents are Doing Moving Chores:

- Let's Test Daddy's Fuse
- Who Can Push Mommy's Buttons the Fastest
- Don't Touch the Wet Paint Means Go Ahead
- Fingerprint art competition on DVDs
- Hide and Forget -- challenging fun with Tools and Car keys

Reese's Peanut Butter Cups

(stroking material, walking down the hall oblivious to surroundings)
Ah, my beautiful Coach leather briefcase. Why, it's simply a unique synthesis of magic and logic that stands for quality, authenticity, value and a truly aspirational, distinctive American style.


(carressing the contoured plastic case, also walking down the hall but not paying attention)
Oh, the wonders of my In Focus -- best-in-class capabilities with intuitive controls. Talk about outstanding color saturation and brightness that lasts!

CRASH!

Hey your fine-grained leather...
...in my multimedia projector!

Two great tastes that taste great together. Now featuring the new Coach In Focus projector! Someone brought one of these into a meeting yesterday. Despite the obvious synergy involved in such logical brand extentions, it appears that both Coach and InFocus have discontined their partnership. Misunderstood genius probably. But fret not! I hear that Coach is now trying to fill the void that Disney left when the rodent cartoon company announced its plans to end the tie-in with McDonald's Happy Meals! Imagine -- Double Quarter Pounder with enviro-friendly leather to-go bag.

Ain't that the truth

"Some people change when they see the light, others when that light starts to burn 'em on their arse."

- from a crotchety sales manager I used to work for. I think he added his own color to an existing one, but I still find this phrase to be a valid one...