I have returned from Maui. I miss being under the same roof as my entire family. I am happy to return to my cats and work dogs though. I will most likely write about the trip in detail later on.
I need to finish something. I have too many projects at seventy-five to ninety percent finished. How about this for some computer programming wisdom?
Ninety-ninety rule
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In computer programming and software engineering, the ninety-ninety rule is a humorous aphorism that states, "The first 90% of the code accounts for the first 90% of the development time. The remaining 10% of the code accounts for the other 90% of the development time."
That the total development time sums to 180% is a wry allusion to the notorious tendency of software development projects to significantly overrun their original schedules. It expresses both the rough allocation of time to easy and hard portions of a programming project and the cause of the lateness of many projects (that is, failure to anticipate the hard parts). That is, it takes both more time and more coding than expected to make a project work.
Tuesday, December 29, 2009
Thursday, December 17, 2009
Better than Sleeping
I have been staying out to late every night this week. I have been grumpy at work because of it. On top of being ty ty all day I'm also always extra annoyed at work right before I take a vacation. I think I allow myself to see how annoying my job really is right before I get to take a break from it. I am really going to enjoy getting off the mainland for a week. If only I was actually leaving the country too.
Projects are going well, though I'm starting to feel as though I have a few too many irons in. I need to finish a few. I worked most of the weekend on a remix of a track for a friend. It was a lot of fun and Angela even did a vocal in the chorus, pretty much made the song for me. I think I may take on more remixing next year, it has been more satisfying than I would have guessed. I suppose since it's for some one that I know has never heard one of their songs presented in the way that I presented it that it makes it exciting for me.
My writing has been going well, but I feel a cross roads approaching. More about that after I get through it and make a decision.
Back to grumpy.
Projects are going well, though I'm starting to feel as though I have a few too many irons in. I need to finish a few. I worked most of the weekend on a remix of a track for a friend. It was a lot of fun and Angela even did a vocal in the chorus, pretty much made the song for me. I think I may take on more remixing next year, it has been more satisfying than I would have guessed. I suppose since it's for some one that I know has never heard one of their songs presented in the way that I presented it that it makes it exciting for me.
My writing has been going well, but I feel a cross roads approaching. More about that after I get through it and make a decision.
Back to grumpy.
Tuesday, December 08, 2009
There are No Passengers
I started work at credit cooperative in the spring of 2002, it was a bland meaningless job that existed simply by the fact that the person I replaced had managed to appear useful in the face of all evidence to the contrary. Naturally when he left his post interviews were held and a replacement was found at once. I replaced a man that did nothing, apparently with great flair. I would have liked to meet Mr. Dale Evans, I owe him a certain degree of deference. His last day on the job, he slipped into his old desk (which became my new desk) a three-page, hand written letter. The letter, in a smooth even hand, outlined the particular way in which he managed to do absolutely nothing at Credit Cooperative and get paid for it and he was now passing on this peculiar occupation to me. The letter came with a request: that if I were at all inclined to apply myself in a more productive manner to the company, that I wait 6 months to do so in order that I not draw attention to his ruse. The letter ended with a warning, after extolling the benefits of the added free time the job provided he warned of what he referred to as "the pitfalls of ennui". He implored me to take advantage of the free office hours, and do something constructive for myself, even suggested perhaps I write a novel. He ended the letter by explaining that all good things in life are temporary, and that one cannot work at nothing all day forever. He viewed the job he was leaving to me as an endowment, and he asked only in the end that I not abuse the privilege, and that when I leave I make every attempt to pass the position along, intact, to a new individual in a manner similar to how he had done for me.
On the first day of my employment with Credit Cooperative I read Mr. Evan's letter over and over again, dumbfounded and elated. University had been a harrowing experience for me and I interviewed for and received the well-compensated position at Credit Cooperative after a long and arduous job hunt. To me it had all been exhausting, and I was pleased to learn that I would now have a chance to take a much-needed break from the trials of life. At the end of the day I placed the letter in an envelope and taped it to the under side of my bottom desk drawer, secreted away but fondly open in my memory.
In the beginning that spring felt magical. Mr. Dale Evans had left me in a position that was in the upper percentile of starting wages for my degree and I took great advantage of my newly acquired means. I didn't like the neighborhood around Credit Cooperative, nor the nearest surrounding neighborhoods; I found them drab and depressing. I decided to spend a larger portion of my salary on a wonderful 2-bedroom apartment in Santa Monica near the beach. I had always dreamed of living so close to the ocean, and it was only 20 miles away from my well paying position.
I learned quickly that 20 miles in Los Angeles could be an eternity during rush hours, and within two weeks I dreaded my commute; but I would not so easily be deterred from the enjoyment of my new life, so I made myself a deal. At the end of my first month at Credit Cooperative I left work on a Friday and drove to a car dealership, where I leased a brand new, BMW X5 sport utility vehicle. This car came with all manner of bells and whistles; it practically drove itself. I reasoned that if I had to spend over an hour in the car one way that I could at least do it in style.
My commute was depressing but I was making the most of my job of nothing. I stuck with it through the rest of the spring and into the fall. I explored the Internet to it’s darkest farthest corners. I played an endless series of video games on my work computer, all the while following Mr. Evan's instructions and suggestions to the letter. I made friends with many of my fellow employees, and I could tell they appreciated my calm, even demeanor. Credit Cooperative seemed as though it must have been an awfully stressful place to be employed if your job happened to call for actual work, so I made the most of my lack of responsibility and tried to always throw a bit of my Santa Monica sunshine around.
As fall became winter and the seasonal rains beat down I began to respect "the pitfalls of ennui" to a greater degree. I found it harder to share sunshine as it came in increasingly shorter supply. This season was to go down as particularly marred by precipitation. A seldom-understood weather phenomenon, El Nino was brutally unforgiving this year, and it increased my commute to lengths absurd on nearly a weekly basis. The endless drive coupled with my complete lack of any meaningful productivity was now pulling me further and deeper into a spiraling depression.
By January I was nearing the bottom of my will to continue. I even attempted to begin a novel, as Dale had suggested, but no muse would strike. The cursor blinked and the white lines of the 10 Freeway stretched on forever before me.
A tragic end was coming; I would certainly have fallen victim to the "pitfalls of ennui" had it not been for a visit to the second floor Credit Cooperative employee lounge, and a protracted study of the shared employee bulletin board there. Upon the well worn cork-board I found a single cleanly typed sheet of paper, in bold face type, announcing the formation of a west side carpool. A scale map of specific areas in Santa Monica and West Los Angeles was included with the heading ‘Eligible Area of Residence.’ My apartment fell easily within the boundaries. The announcement ended with this statement: "for further inquiries and eligibility contact Douglass@creditcooperative.com.” The solitary hours of my daily commute had become so horrific that this car pool seemed to be an opportunity of life altering proportions. I clipped steadily back to my office and dashed an email of introduction to Douglass. I included my address and irrelevant title at Cred Co., ‘Account Reconciliations Specialist.’
Thirty seconds after the electronic packet of information left my computer a ding from my speakers announced the arrival of a reply. It read:
"Bradley, your address qualifies for further consideration of inclusion in the west side car pool. Please stop by my office and see me in person at your earliest convenience.
Douglass Bratten, Director of Institutional Efficiency - Suite 308."
My office was on the second floor, and Dale had suggested I spend only the smallest amounts of time on the third and fourth floors, where most of the upper level management toiled. Though I followed this instruction faithfully in my travels about the grounds I had been fairly confident that I had at least made acquaintance with everyone who worked at Cred Co. In his letter Dale had suggested this. Yet I had never seen nor heard of Douglass, and I had believed there were only seven suites on each floor. Seven suites lined the perimeter of each floor surrounding the large field of cubicles in the middle.
These minor curiosities did not prevent me from springing to my feet en route to the third floor. Something in the e-mail reply had reassured me that this was indeed a path worth traveling. I made a large circle around the third floor checking name and number plates of each office, yet I could find Suite 308 nowhere. I had remembered correctly, there were seven office suites about the perimeter of the floor, a small employee lounge and two sex specific restrooms. Finally nearing exasperation I noticed April Hardwick, a fellow second floor employee walking out from the field of cubicles. I was very friendly with April and I stopped her to inquire about Suite 308.
"How odd, Bradley, I myself have just come from Suite 308 and I too had to ask for directions. Forgive me being a snoop but is this about the car pool?"
"Odd indeed, April! That is exactly why I am looking for Suite 308."
"Wonderful, I hope that we both make the cut! Let me know how the interview goes."
With that April continued on her way and I marched in the direction she had pointed, to the very center of the 3rd floor, to a rather large towering cubicle. How had I never noticed such an impressive and imposing structure before? I was certain that such a thing did not exist on the second floor, because it would have obstructed my view across the sea of cubicles to the other side of the building, where I would often gaze and zone out while enjoying one of my multiple cups of coffee. No, I was certain that this was a third floor anomaly only. And what had April meant in referring to this meeting as an interview?
I had approached Suite 308 from what I soon realized was the backside; the cubicle was remarkable in that on each of the three sides that did not have the door, there was an actual glass window. I peeked through each window as I passed and was surprised at the open and orderly flurry of activity that seemed to be taking place on the opposite side. As I rounded the corner and stepped through the suite door the truly impressive nature of 308 really hit me. In the center was one large desk, behind which, if the nameplate on the desk was accurate, sat Douglass Bratten. The cubicle office seemed impossibly large from the inside; in each of the four corners of the room sat a desk, facing out towards the corner. Three of these desks were occupied, each occupant sat facing away from the desk in the center of the room; it seemed that this was deliberate so that the person in the center of the room could easily see the extra large computer screens of those around him. I made a knocking motion in the air as I stepped through the threshold. Douglass was speaking rapidly, presumably to the three people in the room around him.
"Jackson, check in with shipping and see if we have a tracking number for Taipei yet. Green, I'm sending you some new figures, plug them in and let me know what the curve looks like now. Beth, this report from the south looks nice, spelling error in word five, sentence three, paragraph two, page four.
"Bradley! Excellent."
Stepping into an office where work was obviously occurring struck me as rather alarming. I would have simply seized from fear had it not been for something warm and inviting in the way Douglass recognized me and proclaimed my arrival to be excellent. I normally find exclamation to be most troublesome, but there was something of a comfort to Douglass' enthusiasm.
"You wear glasses Bradley, prescription?"
"Yes."
"Forgive me, but what is your visual acuity"
"20/30."
"I see, and do you have regular eye exams?"
"Every 6 months."
"Do you always wear glasses?"
"I do."
"Do you have several pairs at current prescription?”
"Yes."
"Very well. What time do you currently leave for work?"
"Between 6:30 and 7:05, depending on the Sig-Alert website."
"Excellent! I will be in touch by the end of the day with instructions for tomorrow morning."
Douglass stood and shook my hand and walked me to the opening of the cubicle. As we reached the outer office he patted me on the back and turned back into his office where I heard another rapid-fire string of requests and commands. The entire exchange had taken less than a minute and I was now headed back to the second floor. I wandered around hoping to bump into April, but her cubicle was empty and she was nowhere to be seen. I went to the break room and made myself a cup of green tea. I turned to study the bulletin board again and was surprised to see that the car pool posting had disappeared from the board. Tea in hand I made my way promptly back to my office.
Checking my Cred Co. e-mail I saw that I had two e-mails, the most recent arrival from Douglass@Creditcooperative.com. I began to read:
"Bradley,
You will be an excellent fit for the West Side Car Pool. Fortunately the two other most eligible candidates for the pool live within a half a mile from both you and I. You no doubt pass my condo each morning on your way to the 11th Street on-ramp to the 10 Freeway. I am the green building at 5th and Colorado. I have seen you arrive to work just behind me rather often, and I admire your roomy automobile. Would you mind allowing me to drive it each day? This will not be a rotational pool; I will drive every day, preferably in your vehicle, as it is roomier than mine. If this presents a problem I could stop by the dealer on my way home and trade in my car, but since your vehicle is road tested I would prefer to undertake the daily commute in it. There is a company reimbursement program in place, which will compensate you for mileage as well as wear and tear, since the west side company car pool will fit all necessary requirements. In fact if we are economical in our choice of routes you may come out a little ahead at years’ end. Please respond prior to 5:00 pm. It will be unnecessary for you to pick me up; I think it is beneficial to enjoy a brisk walk prior to a drive. Let’s plan to leave each morning at precisely 7:30 am."
A knock on the open door behind me broke my concentration. April stood smiling in the door.
"Well, are you in?" Her excitement was far beyond the subject matter, yet I felt it too.
"I am in fact, and we'll even be taking my car." I said this before realizing I had decided to consent. It made sense of course, it would cost me nothing, and I very much enjoyed the thought of sharing the comfort of my vehicle with others.
"I had no idea you lived so close to me. I am so glad that I won't have to drive any longer, and I'm really looking forward to getting to know you and Douglass better."
As April finished this statement I saw Douglass striding towards us with a briefcase in both hands. There was another man with him and as he reached us he bent slightly at the knees and set down each case. Turning to his left and gesturing to the man with him he said: "April and Bradley, this is Allen Green — he is the fourth member of our pool. Will your vehicle be okay Bradley?"
"Certainly."
"Good, I have another favor. I was wondering if you would perhaps follow me to my mechanic and then drive me home this evening. It's on the way and we could acceptably leave now, being that it is a lower level productivity time for the company."
"Sounds fine to me, let me just lock up and grab my things."
His mechanic was just a block from the office, and Douglass was out of his car and stowing one of his briefcases in the back seat as soon as I came to a complete stop. He opened the passenger door and leaned his head in, "Would you mind much if I drove us to your place? I would like to assess the feel of the automobile, and I have something to show you on the drive."
"I would be delighted!" And truly I was — I felt relieved already that I would not have to face the commute alone. I exited the X5 and met Douglass at the front of the vehicle. As I passed him on the way to the passenger seat he handed me the briefcase.
“This will be yours, you can learn to use it on the drive home."
Sitting in the passenger seat I opened that case. Inside was what appeared to be a laptop, though it did not open; it had a simple flat screen on the top. Douglass was already in his seat, buckling in. I stared at the black screen on the device in my lap.
"Touch anywhere on the screen" Douglass instructed.
I pressed the very center of the screen and soon it surged to life. There was no start up screen but instantly a map of the streets around me appeared. There was a row of buttons all along the right side.
"Acquaint yourself with each button, their functions are self explanatory." I found from a simple scroll through them that they were just that. There were layers for current traffic and average foreseeable traffic. There was a button for address input. A button called ‘route’ and button called ‘alternate routes,’ two buttons for zoom. Also one called ‘weather’ and one that read ‘elapsed time.’ Douglass instructed me to input my home address. When I pressed the address button a keyboard appeared on the screen and I typed in my address. The device automatically drew a line on the map, with each turn clearly labeled all the way to my apartment building.
"Easy enough?" Douglass asked as he smiled. "There is a Thomas Guide behind in the pocket of the case as well, just in case we ever need to do things the old fashion way."
I watched our progress on the screen and toggled through settings the entire way home, only realizing that we had arrived when the screen blinked "destination reached". It felt as though no time had elapsed. I pointed to my parking space and Douglass pulled directly in. He shook my hand and was off without anything more than a smile. I carried the device in its case up to my apartment and inspected it further. No brand name anywhere to be found. In the case pocket I found a manual, which I began to read.
I had been reading a while when I noticed I had not eaten. I ordered Thai food from a delivery place down the block and continued to read. The manual was written with a direct descriptive tone. There were more features than had appeared on the basic operation screen and I was absorbed in learning them. I had forgotten how much I enjoyed learning a new piece of equipment. I had in college considered a degree in software programming, but many people assured me that this was not a fulfilling occupation. My food came, I answered the door with a smile and tipped the young man ten dollars on a nine-dollar order. I realized that I was looking forward to navigating for Douglass in the morning.
I woke up before my alarm the following morning at 5:30 sharp. I dressed in shorts and t-shirt and running shoes. I ran a 3 quick miles and came home to shower. The shower felt wonderful, and I stood smiling under the spray of warm water. I dressed and then made breakfast and finished reading the manual. I was done with breakfast and looked at the clock; it was 7:00. Most mornings I would have left home already, but Douglass seemed very certain that leaving by 7:30 would be fine. I finished all that I had to do by 7:20 and decided to go down early, for a little air. I passed the elevator and took the stairs, marching down five flights with a spring in my step. I approached my lobby door at 7:25, April was waiting with a cup holder and 4 cups of coffee and smiled back at me as I opened the door. She handed me a cup of coffee labeled Black.
"How did you know how I take my coffee?" I asked.
"I just notice those things and make a note I suppose."
From behind her I heard "Good Morning!" as Allen came striding up the stairs.
"Wonderful morning is it not?" We both agreed that it was.
"Douglass recommended we all walk here. I had no idea how much I would enjoy a morning walk; it's been years since I've walked anywhere father than from the parking lot to my office. What a fine idea that was." As he said this Douglass walked up behind him and April handed him one of the two remaining coffees. "Half and Half, correct?"
"Yes, thank you very much." Douglass said, obviously pleased.
"Off we go then."
Everyone followed Douglass to my vehicle. I tossed him a set of keys as we neared. "Keep them, I have 3 sets."
"Thank you, much easier that way."
Once we were inside and everyone was belted in, Douglass began to speak. "There are no passengers in this vehicle. Everyone has been given a job to do that will help us in our journey each day. Allen, you are my eyes in back and on the left, speak clearly without getting excited when I ask you a question. It's important always to remain calm, you will be covering the most sensitive blind spot."
As he said this he put the X5 in drive and left the parking structure.
"Bradley, I trust you have delved a bit deeper into the functions of the navigator, I will need help with on the fly change of routes and traffic forecasting. You'll find the navigator is an extremely programmable tool that is capable of performing many complex functions. I am certain you will enjoy learning more about it as we progress. April, thank you very much for the coffee, we all appreciate it very much. I was pleased when you volunteered to stop each morning to pick it up before we leave. It will save us all time and a drive is always nicer with a warm coffee. I will pay you back for everyone's coffee at the end of each week. I will also need your help watching the road in front of me, reading signs and observing the radar detector. I don't make a habit of breaking the speed limit, but I find there are some stretches of roadway where the maximum speed limit is far to conservative and that the authorities have actually over compensated for public safety. In these situations, would anyone object to me pushing the rate of travel a bit? Excellent. This brings me to the question of the radio. I think a general sampling of all stations provides one with a certain sense of the flow of opinion in the city, and that we should make use of our time spent in the vehicle to get a grasp on some of the news of the day. There are volume keys and a mute button on the side of the steering wheel, I encourage anyone to speak when they have something to discuss, I will mute the sound immediately and I think it would be nice for us all to listen and participate. There will be times that this will not be possible as we will all be engaged in our duties of driving, but if we all handle our jobs well, we can keep these times to a minimum."
As we traveled, twice in conversation Douglass asked me for an alternate route when traffic seemed to thicken up. I announced the route and everyone in the car was told to watch for the street signs as I read them off. April was particularly good at seeing the signs from a distance. At 8:20 we pulled into the parking lot and drove to the front near the door next to the handicap stall. I had never noticed but there was a green sign that read "Credit Cooperative Car Pools Only" in front of two of the best spaces. We came to a stop in a space and everyone took their things and empty coffee cups with them and left the car, entering the office together.
When I got to my desk I was surprised to see that I had left my computer on and my email open. I had one unread message, just below the message from Douglass. The address caught my eye at once:
dale.evans@hrrscpes4u.com
The message was marked urgent with a red exclamation point and it had come in at 1:30pm the day before. I clicked the message and it popped up onto my screen.
"Bradley, I am so sorry but I have made one small over sight in my instructions that I left you. I completely forgot to mention the reconciliation report that you must collect from each department. It is a simple task and as long as you have it on the desk of Douglass Bratten in 308 first thing tomorrow morning then everything will be fine. It is critical he has the report as soon as he gets to his desk. He is very particular about the timely arrival of pertinent information; he will want to know the information from the report when he meets with the board at 8:45. I have over the years taught each department to format their information in such a way that you merely need to walk around and collect a single sheet from each department and put them in alphabetical order by department name before you hand them to Douglass. Watch out for Doug, I don't trust him."
My heart sank. I could not believe that this had happened. There was no time to make my way through the building and collect the papers before 8:45. I placed my head on the desk, all the weight I felt yesterday morning returned. I wanted to go back to bed. Suddenly my speaker dinged twice, signaling the arrival of two emails: one from Douglass and one from Dale. I clicked on Dale's and pressed print and then opened Douglass' message.
"Collect all of your things and come and see me in my office. Douglass"
I kept nothing more in my office than would fit in a briefcase. I packed it up and dumped all personal files from my computer. As I walked out I picked up the other email from the printer and began to read as I walked toward the elevator.
"I am sorry that I failed to mention the reconciliation report in your training message. I noticed that I just now received the confirmation that you have opened the email from yesterday and I fear I have cost you your position at Cred Co. I would like to invite you to come and work for me. I have a company that I started in my free time at Cred Co. I wrote software that randomly generates daily horoscopes and sends them to people in a text message. They mean nothing and cost each person who receives them five dollars. Your job would be to spell check the message each morning. I suppose it doesn't technically matter how they are spelled; I don't believe many of my customers can read well enough to notice. Yet, I am guilty of having a weakness for standards and I'm tired of checking the spelling myself. I will pay you double what you make now and you'll only have to read one paragraph for spelling accuracy each morning. I think you'll find this is much better than not working at Cred Co. Please, come not work for me."
I reached the elevator and pressed the button for floor 3. I walked into 308. Douglass was speaking to everyone around him as usual but stopped when I entered. I said nothing; he studied my face for a moment. I then walked forward and handed him the printed email. He looked down and looked back up 15 seconds later.
"Place your things on the open desk in the corner of the room there, I have a new job for you."
On the first day of my employment with Credit Cooperative I read Mr. Evan's letter over and over again, dumbfounded and elated. University had been a harrowing experience for me and I interviewed for and received the well-compensated position at Credit Cooperative after a long and arduous job hunt. To me it had all been exhausting, and I was pleased to learn that I would now have a chance to take a much-needed break from the trials of life. At the end of the day I placed the letter in an envelope and taped it to the under side of my bottom desk drawer, secreted away but fondly open in my memory.
In the beginning that spring felt magical. Mr. Dale Evans had left me in a position that was in the upper percentile of starting wages for my degree and I took great advantage of my newly acquired means. I didn't like the neighborhood around Credit Cooperative, nor the nearest surrounding neighborhoods; I found them drab and depressing. I decided to spend a larger portion of my salary on a wonderful 2-bedroom apartment in Santa Monica near the beach. I had always dreamed of living so close to the ocean, and it was only 20 miles away from my well paying position.
I learned quickly that 20 miles in Los Angeles could be an eternity during rush hours, and within two weeks I dreaded my commute; but I would not so easily be deterred from the enjoyment of my new life, so I made myself a deal. At the end of my first month at Credit Cooperative I left work on a Friday and drove to a car dealership, where I leased a brand new, BMW X5 sport utility vehicle. This car came with all manner of bells and whistles; it practically drove itself. I reasoned that if I had to spend over an hour in the car one way that I could at least do it in style.
My commute was depressing but I was making the most of my job of nothing. I stuck with it through the rest of the spring and into the fall. I explored the Internet to it’s darkest farthest corners. I played an endless series of video games on my work computer, all the while following Mr. Evan's instructions and suggestions to the letter. I made friends with many of my fellow employees, and I could tell they appreciated my calm, even demeanor. Credit Cooperative seemed as though it must have been an awfully stressful place to be employed if your job happened to call for actual work, so I made the most of my lack of responsibility and tried to always throw a bit of my Santa Monica sunshine around.
As fall became winter and the seasonal rains beat down I began to respect "the pitfalls of ennui" to a greater degree. I found it harder to share sunshine as it came in increasingly shorter supply. This season was to go down as particularly marred by precipitation. A seldom-understood weather phenomenon, El Nino was brutally unforgiving this year, and it increased my commute to lengths absurd on nearly a weekly basis. The endless drive coupled with my complete lack of any meaningful productivity was now pulling me further and deeper into a spiraling depression.
By January I was nearing the bottom of my will to continue. I even attempted to begin a novel, as Dale had suggested, but no muse would strike. The cursor blinked and the white lines of the 10 Freeway stretched on forever before me.
A tragic end was coming; I would certainly have fallen victim to the "pitfalls of ennui" had it not been for a visit to the second floor Credit Cooperative employee lounge, and a protracted study of the shared employee bulletin board there. Upon the well worn cork-board I found a single cleanly typed sheet of paper, in bold face type, announcing the formation of a west side carpool. A scale map of specific areas in Santa Monica and West Los Angeles was included with the heading ‘Eligible Area of Residence.’ My apartment fell easily within the boundaries. The announcement ended with this statement: "for further inquiries and eligibility contact Douglass@creditcooperative.com.” The solitary hours of my daily commute had become so horrific that this car pool seemed to be an opportunity of life altering proportions. I clipped steadily back to my office and dashed an email of introduction to Douglass. I included my address and irrelevant title at Cred Co., ‘Account Reconciliations Specialist.’
Thirty seconds after the electronic packet of information left my computer a ding from my speakers announced the arrival of a reply. It read:
"Bradley, your address qualifies for further consideration of inclusion in the west side car pool. Please stop by my office and see me in person at your earliest convenience.
Douglass Bratten, Director of Institutional Efficiency - Suite 308."
My office was on the second floor, and Dale had suggested I spend only the smallest amounts of time on the third and fourth floors, where most of the upper level management toiled. Though I followed this instruction faithfully in my travels about the grounds I had been fairly confident that I had at least made acquaintance with everyone who worked at Cred Co. In his letter Dale had suggested this. Yet I had never seen nor heard of Douglass, and I had believed there were only seven suites on each floor. Seven suites lined the perimeter of each floor surrounding the large field of cubicles in the middle.
These minor curiosities did not prevent me from springing to my feet en route to the third floor. Something in the e-mail reply had reassured me that this was indeed a path worth traveling. I made a large circle around the third floor checking name and number plates of each office, yet I could find Suite 308 nowhere. I had remembered correctly, there were seven office suites about the perimeter of the floor, a small employee lounge and two sex specific restrooms. Finally nearing exasperation I noticed April Hardwick, a fellow second floor employee walking out from the field of cubicles. I was very friendly with April and I stopped her to inquire about Suite 308.
"How odd, Bradley, I myself have just come from Suite 308 and I too had to ask for directions. Forgive me being a snoop but is this about the car pool?"
"Odd indeed, April! That is exactly why I am looking for Suite 308."
"Wonderful, I hope that we both make the cut! Let me know how the interview goes."
With that April continued on her way and I marched in the direction she had pointed, to the very center of the 3rd floor, to a rather large towering cubicle. How had I never noticed such an impressive and imposing structure before? I was certain that such a thing did not exist on the second floor, because it would have obstructed my view across the sea of cubicles to the other side of the building, where I would often gaze and zone out while enjoying one of my multiple cups of coffee. No, I was certain that this was a third floor anomaly only. And what had April meant in referring to this meeting as an interview?
I had approached Suite 308 from what I soon realized was the backside; the cubicle was remarkable in that on each of the three sides that did not have the door, there was an actual glass window. I peeked through each window as I passed and was surprised at the open and orderly flurry of activity that seemed to be taking place on the opposite side. As I rounded the corner and stepped through the suite door the truly impressive nature of 308 really hit me. In the center was one large desk, behind which, if the nameplate on the desk was accurate, sat Douglass Bratten. The cubicle office seemed impossibly large from the inside; in each of the four corners of the room sat a desk, facing out towards the corner. Three of these desks were occupied, each occupant sat facing away from the desk in the center of the room; it seemed that this was deliberate so that the person in the center of the room could easily see the extra large computer screens of those around him. I made a knocking motion in the air as I stepped through the threshold. Douglass was speaking rapidly, presumably to the three people in the room around him.
"Jackson, check in with shipping and see if we have a tracking number for Taipei yet. Green, I'm sending you some new figures, plug them in and let me know what the curve looks like now. Beth, this report from the south looks nice, spelling error in word five, sentence three, paragraph two, page four.
"Bradley! Excellent."
Stepping into an office where work was obviously occurring struck me as rather alarming. I would have simply seized from fear had it not been for something warm and inviting in the way Douglass recognized me and proclaimed my arrival to be excellent. I normally find exclamation to be most troublesome, but there was something of a comfort to Douglass' enthusiasm.
"You wear glasses Bradley, prescription?"
"Yes."
"Forgive me, but what is your visual acuity"
"20/30."
"I see, and do you have regular eye exams?"
"Every 6 months."
"Do you always wear glasses?"
"I do."
"Do you have several pairs at current prescription?”
"Yes."
"Very well. What time do you currently leave for work?"
"Between 6:30 and 7:05, depending on the Sig-Alert website."
"Excellent! I will be in touch by the end of the day with instructions for tomorrow morning."
Douglass stood and shook my hand and walked me to the opening of the cubicle. As we reached the outer office he patted me on the back and turned back into his office where I heard another rapid-fire string of requests and commands. The entire exchange had taken less than a minute and I was now headed back to the second floor. I wandered around hoping to bump into April, but her cubicle was empty and she was nowhere to be seen. I went to the break room and made myself a cup of green tea. I turned to study the bulletin board again and was surprised to see that the car pool posting had disappeared from the board. Tea in hand I made my way promptly back to my office.
Checking my Cred Co. e-mail I saw that I had two e-mails, the most recent arrival from Douglass@Creditcooperative.com. I began to read:
"Bradley,
You will be an excellent fit for the West Side Car Pool. Fortunately the two other most eligible candidates for the pool live within a half a mile from both you and I. You no doubt pass my condo each morning on your way to the 11th Street on-ramp to the 10 Freeway. I am the green building at 5th and Colorado. I have seen you arrive to work just behind me rather often, and I admire your roomy automobile. Would you mind allowing me to drive it each day? This will not be a rotational pool; I will drive every day, preferably in your vehicle, as it is roomier than mine. If this presents a problem I could stop by the dealer on my way home and trade in my car, but since your vehicle is road tested I would prefer to undertake the daily commute in it. There is a company reimbursement program in place, which will compensate you for mileage as well as wear and tear, since the west side company car pool will fit all necessary requirements. In fact if we are economical in our choice of routes you may come out a little ahead at years’ end. Please respond prior to 5:00 pm. It will be unnecessary for you to pick me up; I think it is beneficial to enjoy a brisk walk prior to a drive. Let’s plan to leave each morning at precisely 7:30 am."
A knock on the open door behind me broke my concentration. April stood smiling in the door.
"Well, are you in?" Her excitement was far beyond the subject matter, yet I felt it too.
"I am in fact, and we'll even be taking my car." I said this before realizing I had decided to consent. It made sense of course, it would cost me nothing, and I very much enjoyed the thought of sharing the comfort of my vehicle with others.
"I had no idea you lived so close to me. I am so glad that I won't have to drive any longer, and I'm really looking forward to getting to know you and Douglass better."
As April finished this statement I saw Douglass striding towards us with a briefcase in both hands. There was another man with him and as he reached us he bent slightly at the knees and set down each case. Turning to his left and gesturing to the man with him he said: "April and Bradley, this is Allen Green — he is the fourth member of our pool. Will your vehicle be okay Bradley?"
"Certainly."
"Good, I have another favor. I was wondering if you would perhaps follow me to my mechanic and then drive me home this evening. It's on the way and we could acceptably leave now, being that it is a lower level productivity time for the company."
"Sounds fine to me, let me just lock up and grab my things."
His mechanic was just a block from the office, and Douglass was out of his car and stowing one of his briefcases in the back seat as soon as I came to a complete stop. He opened the passenger door and leaned his head in, "Would you mind much if I drove us to your place? I would like to assess the feel of the automobile, and I have something to show you on the drive."
"I would be delighted!" And truly I was — I felt relieved already that I would not have to face the commute alone. I exited the X5 and met Douglass at the front of the vehicle. As I passed him on the way to the passenger seat he handed me the briefcase.
“This will be yours, you can learn to use it on the drive home."
Sitting in the passenger seat I opened that case. Inside was what appeared to be a laptop, though it did not open; it had a simple flat screen on the top. Douglass was already in his seat, buckling in. I stared at the black screen on the device in my lap.
"Touch anywhere on the screen" Douglass instructed.
I pressed the very center of the screen and soon it surged to life. There was no start up screen but instantly a map of the streets around me appeared. There was a row of buttons all along the right side.
"Acquaint yourself with each button, their functions are self explanatory." I found from a simple scroll through them that they were just that. There were layers for current traffic and average foreseeable traffic. There was a button for address input. A button called ‘route’ and button called ‘alternate routes,’ two buttons for zoom. Also one called ‘weather’ and one that read ‘elapsed time.’ Douglass instructed me to input my home address. When I pressed the address button a keyboard appeared on the screen and I typed in my address. The device automatically drew a line on the map, with each turn clearly labeled all the way to my apartment building.
"Easy enough?" Douglass asked as he smiled. "There is a Thomas Guide behind in the pocket of the case as well, just in case we ever need to do things the old fashion way."
I watched our progress on the screen and toggled through settings the entire way home, only realizing that we had arrived when the screen blinked "destination reached". It felt as though no time had elapsed. I pointed to my parking space and Douglass pulled directly in. He shook my hand and was off without anything more than a smile. I carried the device in its case up to my apartment and inspected it further. No brand name anywhere to be found. In the case pocket I found a manual, which I began to read.
I had been reading a while when I noticed I had not eaten. I ordered Thai food from a delivery place down the block and continued to read. The manual was written with a direct descriptive tone. There were more features than had appeared on the basic operation screen and I was absorbed in learning them. I had forgotten how much I enjoyed learning a new piece of equipment. I had in college considered a degree in software programming, but many people assured me that this was not a fulfilling occupation. My food came, I answered the door with a smile and tipped the young man ten dollars on a nine-dollar order. I realized that I was looking forward to navigating for Douglass in the morning.
I woke up before my alarm the following morning at 5:30 sharp. I dressed in shorts and t-shirt and running shoes. I ran a 3 quick miles and came home to shower. The shower felt wonderful, and I stood smiling under the spray of warm water. I dressed and then made breakfast and finished reading the manual. I was done with breakfast and looked at the clock; it was 7:00. Most mornings I would have left home already, but Douglass seemed very certain that leaving by 7:30 would be fine. I finished all that I had to do by 7:20 and decided to go down early, for a little air. I passed the elevator and took the stairs, marching down five flights with a spring in my step. I approached my lobby door at 7:25, April was waiting with a cup holder and 4 cups of coffee and smiled back at me as I opened the door. She handed me a cup of coffee labeled Black.
"How did you know how I take my coffee?" I asked.
"I just notice those things and make a note I suppose."
From behind her I heard "Good Morning!" as Allen came striding up the stairs.
"Wonderful morning is it not?" We both agreed that it was.
"Douglass recommended we all walk here. I had no idea how much I would enjoy a morning walk; it's been years since I've walked anywhere father than from the parking lot to my office. What a fine idea that was." As he said this Douglass walked up behind him and April handed him one of the two remaining coffees. "Half and Half, correct?"
"Yes, thank you very much." Douglass said, obviously pleased.
"Off we go then."
Everyone followed Douglass to my vehicle. I tossed him a set of keys as we neared. "Keep them, I have 3 sets."
"Thank you, much easier that way."
Once we were inside and everyone was belted in, Douglass began to speak. "There are no passengers in this vehicle. Everyone has been given a job to do that will help us in our journey each day. Allen, you are my eyes in back and on the left, speak clearly without getting excited when I ask you a question. It's important always to remain calm, you will be covering the most sensitive blind spot."
As he said this he put the X5 in drive and left the parking structure.
"Bradley, I trust you have delved a bit deeper into the functions of the navigator, I will need help with on the fly change of routes and traffic forecasting. You'll find the navigator is an extremely programmable tool that is capable of performing many complex functions. I am certain you will enjoy learning more about it as we progress. April, thank you very much for the coffee, we all appreciate it very much. I was pleased when you volunteered to stop each morning to pick it up before we leave. It will save us all time and a drive is always nicer with a warm coffee. I will pay you back for everyone's coffee at the end of each week. I will also need your help watching the road in front of me, reading signs and observing the radar detector. I don't make a habit of breaking the speed limit, but I find there are some stretches of roadway where the maximum speed limit is far to conservative and that the authorities have actually over compensated for public safety. In these situations, would anyone object to me pushing the rate of travel a bit? Excellent. This brings me to the question of the radio. I think a general sampling of all stations provides one with a certain sense of the flow of opinion in the city, and that we should make use of our time spent in the vehicle to get a grasp on some of the news of the day. There are volume keys and a mute button on the side of the steering wheel, I encourage anyone to speak when they have something to discuss, I will mute the sound immediately and I think it would be nice for us all to listen and participate. There will be times that this will not be possible as we will all be engaged in our duties of driving, but if we all handle our jobs well, we can keep these times to a minimum."
As we traveled, twice in conversation Douglass asked me for an alternate route when traffic seemed to thicken up. I announced the route and everyone in the car was told to watch for the street signs as I read them off. April was particularly good at seeing the signs from a distance. At 8:20 we pulled into the parking lot and drove to the front near the door next to the handicap stall. I had never noticed but there was a green sign that read "Credit Cooperative Car Pools Only" in front of two of the best spaces. We came to a stop in a space and everyone took their things and empty coffee cups with them and left the car, entering the office together.
When I got to my desk I was surprised to see that I had left my computer on and my email open. I had one unread message, just below the message from Douglass. The address caught my eye at once:
dale.evans@hrrscpes4u.com
The message was marked urgent with a red exclamation point and it had come in at 1:30pm the day before. I clicked the message and it popped up onto my screen.
"Bradley, I am so sorry but I have made one small over sight in my instructions that I left you. I completely forgot to mention the reconciliation report that you must collect from each department. It is a simple task and as long as you have it on the desk of Douglass Bratten in 308 first thing tomorrow morning then everything will be fine. It is critical he has the report as soon as he gets to his desk. He is very particular about the timely arrival of pertinent information; he will want to know the information from the report when he meets with the board at 8:45. I have over the years taught each department to format their information in such a way that you merely need to walk around and collect a single sheet from each department and put them in alphabetical order by department name before you hand them to Douglass. Watch out for Doug, I don't trust him."
My heart sank. I could not believe that this had happened. There was no time to make my way through the building and collect the papers before 8:45. I placed my head on the desk, all the weight I felt yesterday morning returned. I wanted to go back to bed. Suddenly my speaker dinged twice, signaling the arrival of two emails: one from Douglass and one from Dale. I clicked on Dale's and pressed print and then opened Douglass' message.
"Collect all of your things and come and see me in my office. Douglass"
I kept nothing more in my office than would fit in a briefcase. I packed it up and dumped all personal files from my computer. As I walked out I picked up the other email from the printer and began to read as I walked toward the elevator.
"I am sorry that I failed to mention the reconciliation report in your training message. I noticed that I just now received the confirmation that you have opened the email from yesterday and I fear I have cost you your position at Cred Co. I would like to invite you to come and work for me. I have a company that I started in my free time at Cred Co. I wrote software that randomly generates daily horoscopes and sends them to people in a text message. They mean nothing and cost each person who receives them five dollars. Your job would be to spell check the message each morning. I suppose it doesn't technically matter how they are spelled; I don't believe many of my customers can read well enough to notice. Yet, I am guilty of having a weakness for standards and I'm tired of checking the spelling myself. I will pay you double what you make now and you'll only have to read one paragraph for spelling accuracy each morning. I think you'll find this is much better than not working at Cred Co. Please, come not work for me."
I reached the elevator and pressed the button for floor 3. I walked into 308. Douglass was speaking to everyone around him as usual but stopped when I entered. I said nothing; he studied my face for a moment. I then walked forward and handed him the printed email. He looked down and looked back up 15 seconds later.
"Place your things on the open desk in the corner of the room there, I have a new job for you."
Monday, December 07, 2009
There Are Some Things I Can't Teach You
The ground crunched as my father's large boots led me across the frost covered driveway towards the barn. My gloves were too large for my hands and too large to fit in my pockets. I would have liked to hold father's hand on the walk, but it was becoming easier now to balance myself than to balance by my father's arm. I was too busy thinking about what my father had told me we were going to do to think about the clear crisp quality of the air in the sky, it would be years before I would have enough of my own thoughts worked out to consider such things.
"Alex, you must come with me to the barn, it is time to slaughter the new cow."
I was trying to remember if I had slaughtered anything before. I was pretty certain that I had not, the word sounded familiar and it made me nervous. My stomach now had a new sensation competing with the feeling of hunger, a certain tousling that made me even more distracted as I struggled to keep up.
Father did not speak much, it seemed that as I learned more words he forgot some. Would he forget the word slaughter once I understood what it meant?
As we neared the barn I rushed to get to the chain which held the doors closed. Last week father had taught me to pull the large rust brown nail back out through the links of the chain which held the chain together. I could never do this task before because I didn't know that there was an extra step. I needed first to push the door in and hold it closed tight with my foot in order to take something called tension off of the nail. This was now the sixth time I that I was allowed to open the door. As I opened the left door and walked it to the side father caught up with me and walked into the barn.
The new cow was a surprise, I did not know we had any cows anymore, much less a new one. I wonder which cow was it's mother cow, since we ate the last of our cows in November. Maybe you don't always need a mother cow to get a new one, but I thought father said before that you did.
I followed father to the back of the barn, where he opened the very back stall door. Inside was the new cow. It was smaller than our last cow had been, but not by much.
"Alex, we normally would not butcher an animal this late in the year, it is not the best time. It is too cold outside and we will have to wait longer before we can eat. I am sorry that we will have to wait, but it's important to do things right, and I am proud that you do not complain about the hunger anymore."
I was surprised that my father could speak so much still. I knew what it meant to butcher an animal, I had seen parts of it this year, but I had been doing chores when it began so there was still something I did not understand about it. I wondered how it was that the animal came to stop being an animal and came to be the raw pieces of meat which I watched father cut into pieces.
"We will slaughter this animal here in the barn, though normally we would not do such a thing. There are no other animals here though so it is okay. One animal should never see another animal killed. Even the animals are to be respected. It is because of their death that we will continue to live, and we owe a duty to bring about their death in as gentle a manner as possible."
Father removed a rope from the barn wall and placed it around the animals neck, leading it into the center of the barn.
"It is important that the animal not suffer and that you do not waste a bullet. One day you will have to do this yourself, so pay attention. Before drawing the gun look at the face of the animal and in your mind draw a line from each ear of the cow to the opposite eye."
Father held the animals face in his hands and then traced the lines which he spoke about with his fingers. I was shaking a little, not from the cold now. I knew that I was not going to like slaughtering a cow.
"Do you see where the two lines I have drawn cross each other?"
I shook my head up and down. I saw where the lines crossed.
"Exactly where the lines cross is where you must shoot."
"Do you understand what it means to shoot the animal here?"
"Yes, it means the animal will die."
"Yes, the animal will die, and just as important the animal will die quickly and not suffer"
"You do not have to watch this time Alex, but it is better if you understand where the meat which you eat comes from. Everything in gods kingdom sacrifices so that the kingdom may continue."
I looked at the cows eyes, and I knew that I was going to cry. I tried my hardest not to, I knew that it would please father if I could be brave. Father looked at me and then walked towards me. He put his cold hand to the back of my head.
"Alex, it is okay that you cry. It means you understand what it means for something to have to die. This is the feeling which god gives all his creatures, so that they respect the living, and do not take a life unless it is necessary to live. Do you understand what I am telling you Alex?"
I moved me head up and down trying to not to sob. I felt a bit less like sobbing as his hand stroked my hair.
"Father, how do you know that you are able to make yourself shoot the cow?"
"There are some things I can't teach you Alex, when you must do this you will know that you can."
A while later as we walked back to the house, leaving the dead cow hanging by his hind feet, it's blood slowly dripping into a large tub on the floor I asked my father another question, and I was afraid to see that once again his words were escaping him.
"Father, if we have no more mother cows, where did the new cow come from?"
"There are some things Alex, I won't teach you."
"Alex, you must come with me to the barn, it is time to slaughter the new cow."
I was trying to remember if I had slaughtered anything before. I was pretty certain that I had not, the word sounded familiar and it made me nervous. My stomach now had a new sensation competing with the feeling of hunger, a certain tousling that made me even more distracted as I struggled to keep up.
Father did not speak much, it seemed that as I learned more words he forgot some. Would he forget the word slaughter once I understood what it meant?
As we neared the barn I rushed to get to the chain which held the doors closed. Last week father had taught me to pull the large rust brown nail back out through the links of the chain which held the chain together. I could never do this task before because I didn't know that there was an extra step. I needed first to push the door in and hold it closed tight with my foot in order to take something called tension off of the nail. This was now the sixth time I that I was allowed to open the door. As I opened the left door and walked it to the side father caught up with me and walked into the barn.
The new cow was a surprise, I did not know we had any cows anymore, much less a new one. I wonder which cow was it's mother cow, since we ate the last of our cows in November. Maybe you don't always need a mother cow to get a new one, but I thought father said before that you did.
I followed father to the back of the barn, where he opened the very back stall door. Inside was the new cow. It was smaller than our last cow had been, but not by much.
"Alex, we normally would not butcher an animal this late in the year, it is not the best time. It is too cold outside and we will have to wait longer before we can eat. I am sorry that we will have to wait, but it's important to do things right, and I am proud that you do not complain about the hunger anymore."
I was surprised that my father could speak so much still. I knew what it meant to butcher an animal, I had seen parts of it this year, but I had been doing chores when it began so there was still something I did not understand about it. I wondered how it was that the animal came to stop being an animal and came to be the raw pieces of meat which I watched father cut into pieces.
"We will slaughter this animal here in the barn, though normally we would not do such a thing. There are no other animals here though so it is okay. One animal should never see another animal killed. Even the animals are to be respected. It is because of their death that we will continue to live, and we owe a duty to bring about their death in as gentle a manner as possible."
Father removed a rope from the barn wall and placed it around the animals neck, leading it into the center of the barn.
"It is important that the animal not suffer and that you do not waste a bullet. One day you will have to do this yourself, so pay attention. Before drawing the gun look at the face of the animal and in your mind draw a line from each ear of the cow to the opposite eye."
Father held the animals face in his hands and then traced the lines which he spoke about with his fingers. I was shaking a little, not from the cold now. I knew that I was not going to like slaughtering a cow.
"Do you see where the two lines I have drawn cross each other?"
I shook my head up and down. I saw where the lines crossed.
"Exactly where the lines cross is where you must shoot."
"Do you understand what it means to shoot the animal here?"
"Yes, it means the animal will die."
"Yes, the animal will die, and just as important the animal will die quickly and not suffer"
"You do not have to watch this time Alex, but it is better if you understand where the meat which you eat comes from. Everything in gods kingdom sacrifices so that the kingdom may continue."
I looked at the cows eyes, and I knew that I was going to cry. I tried my hardest not to, I knew that it would please father if I could be brave. Father looked at me and then walked towards me. He put his cold hand to the back of my head.
"Alex, it is okay that you cry. It means you understand what it means for something to have to die. This is the feeling which god gives all his creatures, so that they respect the living, and do not take a life unless it is necessary to live. Do you understand what I am telling you Alex?"
I moved me head up and down trying to not to sob. I felt a bit less like sobbing as his hand stroked my hair.
"Father, how do you know that you are able to make yourself shoot the cow?"
"There are some things I can't teach you Alex, when you must do this you will know that you can."
A while later as we walked back to the house, leaving the dead cow hanging by his hind feet, it's blood slowly dripping into a large tub on the floor I asked my father another question, and I was afraid to see that once again his words were escaping him.
"Father, if we have no more mother cows, where did the new cow come from?"
"There are some things Alex, I won't teach you."
Thursday, December 03, 2009
Tuesday, December 01, 2009
Escape Into Space
S no S grass stain (v1 mst4bndeaw) by S no S
I am loving sound cloud. Here is a song that I have been trying to shape up for inclusion on "Albino Elephant". In this form the quality is probably already better than many of the songs on the disc. I have grown to really like this one, enjoy while you wait for the entire massive archive.
I am loving sound cloud. Here is a song that I have been trying to shape up for inclusion on "Albino Elephant". In this form the quality is probably already better than many of the songs on the disc. I have grown to really like this one, enjoy while you wait for the entire massive archive.
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