Ornery

Someone at work called me ornery a couple weeks ago. I wasn't offended. I actually thought, "I don't know if I am but if I am it's because I don't like you."

The next time I had to work a deal that guy, I was a li'l more agreeable. I had to humble myself and make an effort to be kind to a person I admittedly did not like.

I don't think I'm an ornery person. That was the first time anyone had ever called me anything like that in my life. Maybe part of the reason I wasn't too offended was because I didn't know exactly what the word meant. I don't use it. No one I know uses it. I knew it was meant to be derrogatory. But I didn't want to react to his attempt to push my buttons.

Today, I went out to an outdoor, riverside cafe/bar/pub/etc. With my co workers. My boss was there, almost all of my team was there, other colleagues were there, and our funder was there.

To make a long story short, my team has rescued our funder's job and career. She says we are her legacy but OUR performance brought her security and protection that she may not have had otherwise.

I don't particularly like Funder. My team makes fun of me because she and I won the water balloon toss at a team building retreat a couple years ago. That probably got us on HER good side, but....

Then, some months later, she came to our office and made a bunch of empty promises to us, including money and favor. We're still waiting for that stuff.

So, at the end of the day I'm not a fan of hers.

The funder asked my boss, next to whom I was sitting, why do we stress "quality despite the quantity" approach to our work when other teams produce quality with their quantity?

The diplomatic response would've sounded something like, "we have other restraints that the other teams don't have that should be obstacles, but we've succeeded despite those obstacles. Further, we are held to a more stringent standard (ie. Higher workload with fewer resources) and enjoy more success than the other teams."

In my indignancy, I blurted out, "'cuz we gotta make our numbers.'". In other words, we do more work (because you, funder, make us) and we still do good work eventhough your 'model' is designed for us to fail.

My coworkers looked at me.

"Way to keep it real," Princess said.

Then I realized I may have been a li'l outta line, but it was true and we all believed it. My boss had to clean it up a bit but she was on board with the concept.

I've come to realize it's hard for me to keep quiet around people I don't like and most importantly don't respect.

Later, Funder told Boss Lady and me that she interviewed for a position within her organization and her access to that position was based on the notariety she gained from our project. On its face, it sounded like she was giving credit to my boss for doing such a good job.

But, I also speak corporation.

'Thank you for giving me something good for me to take credit for and advance my career.'

I guess I speak corporate with a cynical accent.

Funder also told us that some Academian was writing a professional article calling for policy change based on how successful my team's approach in our project. To anologize, Funder wanted to show that personal trainers could treat hospital patients. Our approach is to have doctors and nurses treat patients and use the trainers to coach patients through treatment.

Boss Lady and I wondered aloud,

"How is some guy going to write about the success of our project withoutactually speaking to someone who works in the project he's writing about?"

"Well, what could he learn from you about the project?"

"Uhhh, what makes the project successful, maybe???"

"Well the success is in the design, you just execute it."

Corporate to English- you are not that important to why my idea worked. In fact, your company is full of people who can do your work. And my idea worked regardless of any contributions you think you made. Oh, and the success you think you're enjoying is only because my idea had success built into it."

I almost engaged her. But that would've jeopardized the jobs of my entire team. So I moved to the other end of the table.

Here's the thing. She is not savvy enough to realize that we scrapped her 'model' over 2 years ago and that is why we've been successful. She forgot that the reason why my team has the contract is because the last service provider dropped the ball trying to follow her 'model.' She refuses to admit that our success has nothing to do with her. In fact, my firm is treating her like our favorite rich uncle.

Oh and what she doesn't know is that my team set out from day one to show that (1) her model sucked and (2) our approach was way better. In other words, we set out to disprove her theory because her theory showed that she didn't know what she was talking about. And if we tried to follow her model, we would have lost her funding like the last service provider.

This was a very frustrating and almost demoralizing experience.

The funny thing, Boss Lady warned me a year ago (also at a bar) that everyone above was and would continue to take credit for our success.

Just think, if that guy didn't call me ornery a couple weeks ago, I never would've reflected on my lack of control over my tongue around people I don't like. And I probably would've lost my job tonight for being indignant towards our funder.

Scary thought isn't it?
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Kids

My dad has two foster sons. I think they're 4 and 5 years old. He's had them for a few months now. They used to be very... "Hyper." Before I knew their names, I knew them as "Wild Monkey Boys." They've calmed down much over the past several weeks.

Yesterday, they were eating some food we grilled in the back yard. My dad gave them what we used to call "quarter waters." They are those little sugary punch drinks in the 4 oz. Plastic jugs with the foil on top. I'm getting a stomach ache thinking about them.

Anyway, No. 2 had orange and No. 1 had blue. So I asked them,

"You have orange and you have blue. If orange juive comes from oranges, where does blue juice come from?"

".... BLUE!"

"Noooo. If orange juice comes from oranges, what FRUIT does blue juice come from?"

[Pause]

"BLUE ORANGES!"

[D'oh!]
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Rest in Strife, No. 3

Several months ago, I discovered that I had.a mouse problem. I came home one day after work and saw "evidence" (i.e. mouse turds) of its presence.

I told my dad about it that weekend. He told me his story about how, one night the first in his first apartment, a mouse ran across his chest while he was asleep. By morning, he was packed and moved back into his parents' basement. I also told me that if I saw one, then there was more than one.

I was confident that I'd catch the mouse. I have a fool-proof trap that always works. It involves poison and waste-paper baskets.

I caught two with the first several days. The first one ran on a glue trap as it was trying to hide. That's kind of like falling in a hole running away from a bear. Whatever, I'll take it. Mouse-0, me-2.

I thought the game was over. One morning, I picked up my mega-vitmans. I guess the noise starled No. 3 because it dove from my 4 ft. tall barbage container. It hit the ground like a live hackey-sack and scurried off.

I decided that this one was different since it didn't fall for the same traps (pun) as the other ones. So I went all out. I bought glue traps, poison bait, poison sticks, I stocked my cache.

I put the glue traps where I actually saw No. 3. I laid 3 glue traps; all places where I actually saw No. 3.

No. 3 was definitely smarter that his cousins. He didn't leave evidence for a while. I thought maybe he left. I mean, I leave a place if two of my cousins disappeared. But no, he made his presence known eventually.

He fell for my first trap. Yes, the fool-proof one. The thing is, my equipment failed. Somehow, No. 3 managed to drag the trap from its strategic location to the stove and he managed to wrangle himself from the trap. Yes, he stepped ON the trap, ate the bait (which was real food) and stepped OFF the trap.

It was on.

No. 3 fell for the second trap. Just to make this part of the story short, the second trap disappeared. I left for work, it was there. I came home, it was gone. I couldn't find this trap at all. I had no idea where it could've gone.

I felt like No. 3 was mocking me.

The third trap was laid directly under the mouse hole. My strategy was to "smoke 'em out. ". Actually, it was more like starve 'em out.". I did not leave any food/garbage out No. 3 could get to it. Fruit and cereal went on top of the fridge. Garbage when in a plastic Pathmark bag on the apartment entrance door handle. This became a war of attrition.

But No. 3 simply rolled with the punches. I hid the food, he hid from me. This went on for months. When thought he was gone, I'd leave food out. He'd leave new evidence.

No. 3 was definitely mocking me. Little did he know that I became his drug dealer.

I'd leave stuff for him that I knew he liked: chocolate, cake icing, fruit, nuts, veggies etc. But I gave him prescribed doses. I had a plan. I was working my plan.

One night I left out McDiddies. I woke and found on evidence that he'd dined, so I covered it up. I thought maybe he got tired of the games. Eventually, when I went to throw out the McDiddy's not only had he dined, but it appeared that, when I covered up the trash, I had trapped him in. But somehow, he got away. (I suspect he got out when I moved the bin. I left enough of an opening after transit for him to squeeze out.)

No. 3 is making look and feel like a fool.

After months of this, I decided it was time to drop the bomb: the infamous snap trap.

I disguised it, though, as the war of attrition. I wanted it to look like the same routine as before: food on the fridge, bags on doorknobs, no exposed food.

Then, I left a nice morsel of cheese to bait the trap. I went out for dinner. Came back. Nothing.

"Maybe I'll hear the trap snap overnight..."

In the back of my mind I said to myself, 'maybe I'll feed his family overnight.'

I woke up.

"I didn't hear the trap snap so he must still be hiding."

I went on with my routine. Then I checked to make sure he didn't eat the bait and go home.

"It looks normal... Wait!"

I took a few steps closer.

"Artoo, is that you???"

"It 'tis you! It 'tis you! Oh, thank the Maker!"

The trap is spring.

No. 3 is no more.

Victory is mine.
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Bar vs. Bodega: What's the difference?

This past weekend, Bonita read to me an excerpt a recent from nymag article about "The Brooklyn Wars." From the little bit I heard, it sounds like nymag is highlighting the rift between the gentries (those who gentrify) and the Brooklyn locals.

One reader commented on how she was happy about the fact that her local corner store burned down to the ground because the locals would no longer hang out in front of the store and she'd feel safer as a result of their absence. Another reader responded by talking about the noisy obnoxious people who hang out in front of bars and how no one complains about them.

That got me thinking: is there a difference between the two groups?

The Bodega

I think we all know to whom the reader referred when she talked about the people who hang out in front of the corner store (aka the bodega, which is Spanish for "corner store.") Thanks to BET, MTV, Hollywood, and the news, the stereotypical bodega shopper, at least after 10 pm, is young, of "black" and/or "Latino" and dressed in jeans, sneakers, and a t-shirt. In fact, they usually fit the description of every perpetrator for every crime committed between 10pm and 3am. They may or may not be drinking. They may or may not be smoking. They are likely to be making noise. That's probably why the 1st nymag reader complained. She did not like the noise generated by the bodega shoppers.

The Bar

I think we all know about whom the 2nd reader referred when he or she talked about the people who hang out in front of the bar. Thanks to SATC, L&O, and every other show filmed in NYC not about black people, the stereotypical bar patron is a 20 or 30something with blond/brown/brunette hair and brown/blue/green eyes. They usually wear anything from sandals, shorts, and a wife-beater, to formal wear. As part of the bar/drinking culture, they stand outside the bar and smoke. They typically don't drink while hanging outside because (1) they're not really allowed to drink immediately outside the bar; and (2) they're already wasted. They make alot of noise, for no good reason. They're loud because they're drunk. That's probably why the 2nd nymag reader complained.

Is there a difference between these two groups?

On its face, no. Both groups stand on the side walk, and make noise at night after consuming alcohol. But there's more to it.

Bodega shoppers are typically viewed as doing something wrong while hanging out in front of the bodega. In other words, hanging out in front of the bodega is suspicious activity. Bar patrons are not viewed as suspicious when the hangout on the sidewalk, smoke, and yell. Why is that?

As I suggested earlier, the media sure wants us to believe that bodega shoppers are guilty of something simply because they're in front of a bodega. On the other hand, people come to NYC for the opportunity to go to bars and by extension hang out in front of them. And that is not viewed as wrong.

The differences are based on something that is not very relevant to the two scenarios. The differences are based on money, class, race, real estate, enfranchisement, (selective) law enforcement, etc. Essentially the two scenarios are very similar, but the circumstances force us to view them differently. I don't think any of us would think that bar patrons are up to no good. Similarly, I don't think we view bodega shoppers as people simply having a good time.

I guess if we saw a rash of white women arrested for buying crack cocaine on a corner in her neighborhood, then we'd think differently about bar patrons hanging out on the sidewalk. The thing is, the bar patrons and bodega shoppers are equally (not) guilty. Neither group is doing something that is necessarily wrong. But one group gets complaints while the other gets a second round.

At the end of the day, I don't think there's a difference because no one's doing anything wrong. in fact, they're probably hanging out on the sidewalk for the same reasons. And that's ok. But some see it as a problem.

Maybe one day the 1st reader will realize that she's part of the problem.

One man's opinion

This a blog entry written by my best friend. He lives in one of the disenfranchised states. He voted anyway.
----

" Last night history was made in this country.  Barack Obama is the first African American person to lead the Presidential ticket of a major party in this country.  I am writing this bulletin/blog not to tell you to vote Obama but to tell all of you... the impact this race has had on me.
I will be 32 years old in July.  I have many friends from all different backgrounds.  Despite having many friends that come from all different backgrounds, I never thought  I would see a black man have a legitimate chance to run for President.  I just never thought there would be a politician who would be able to cross that boundary and overcome the longstanding racial divisions in this country.
As I watched the delegate totals become final last night and as every major cable television network talked about the historical significance, I actually began to cry.  I had so many emotions going through me. 
I thought about all of the times I had been followed around a department store because I was black, times police questioned  me because I "fit the description",  the time I was called a  nig**er in Junior High School. I thought about two weeks ago when my daughter was called nig**er for the first time.
I thought about jobs I did not get because of my color.  I thought about the trouble my wife and I had as newlyweds getting someone to rent us an apartment, despite having decent credit and great corporate jobs.
Then I thought about my son and my daughter.  I remember my family telling me I could be anything I wanted to be.  Well for a long time that was not true.  When I was young there were no Black CEO's , hardly any black politicians, for that matter there were hardly any blacks on TV playing roles that represented us.  So what my family told me was not exactly the truth.
Now I can look my children in the eye and tell them with honesty and sincerity you can be anything you want.  They can even run for President.
As I watched Senator Obama give his speech last night in St. Paul, Minnesota in front of a raucous, racially mixed crowd, I felt even more emotion and cried a little more.
My tears were tears of joy, tears of frustration being lifted.  Finally there is a man who I feel represents me.  I cried these tears because for the first time in my life, I believe that this country is finally moving towards what we were supposed to be all these years.   A country where any person could do anything, regardless of race, color or creed.
Senator Obama may not win this race, but just him being in it will change this country.  I know it has changed me."

Princess Update

Princess, my co-worker, just came back from a cruise. She was actually supposed to spend time with her family at their "apartment" in Venezuela. I put apartment in quotes because I suspect that her family owns more than just an apartment in Venezuela. I tease her by calling it their "property" in Venezuela.



Anyway, that trip was cancelled because her parents returned to the US early because of an emergency. So, Princess decided, rather than go to Venezuela by herself, she'd go ona cruise by herself.



Before she left, she was going on about how she got the high-end suite with the balcony, all inclusive, ports in Mexico, etc.



This morning she told me that the cruise was fun, but it wasn't her type of crowd. She made fun of her shipmates because they had gold teeth and tatoos. In turn, they made fun of her requesting fresh garlic for her all-you-can-eat meal.



As she was talking about her vacation, she pondered,



"You know, I never considered myself a snob. But maybe I am. They just weren't my crowd. They were a fun group, nice people, but just not my type."



She's been reflecting a lot. It sounds like her thoughts have taken her on a path of illumination. For the Princess to ponder whether she's a snob... That's a big step!

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