plan B from outerspace

One of the busier weeks I can remember. Crazy at work with a massive demonstration project launching this week — 10 site offices across the country, mass mailings going out, and our data system isn’t quite ready yet. Enter yours truly, in charge of “Plan B.” 
Yes, I don’t know if it’s how I dress or maybe my experience coordinating a citywide painted crab contest which is fairly jumping off my resume (I’ve decorated that section with 3-dimensional crab stickers) — but clearly the project managers thought I had “plan B” written all over me. Sort of like that “mayhem” dude from the insurance commercials? Yes, I’ve whipped up a few checklist forms and Excel tracking files that would make anyone in the year 1997 right proud. Of course the way we need to do things for the federal government I’ve needed to write up a procedures manual for the few weeks we’ll be using this backup plan, develop a powerpoint and now I’ve started a series of online trainings (webinars!) for the site office staff on how to use paper forms and excel files.

I know attending webinars for work has got to be one of the more annoying things in life, but the more I use them I’m thinking they’d be great for virtual gatherings of friends. I mean, after all, usually when we get together these days we’re dialing up funny youtube videos on someone’s smartphone or IPad, or we’re wanting to look something up online (Google searches now settle all our debates). Plus a lot of us are housebound these days what with the families and all and we could vastly improve on the morse code S-O-S texts we send each other by connecting via webinar. “Oh, it looks like Sam has joined us, can you unmute your microphone, Sam? We can’t hear you… yes, and now can you see what we’re seeing? The video of the monkey eating the elephant poop? Yes. So glad you could join us today.” “What’s that, Tom? You’d like to be the presenter? I don’t think so. We know what you showed us last week right when my wife walked in. That was inappropriate webinar content, Tom.”

But I undress. So work’s been going at a desperate breakneck pace, helped not at all by our weekly mid-week snowstorms, where school is canceled and we have to hold telephonic summits with my family on who could help watch one or both kids. Then my band had a show last weekend and one this Friday coming up, so there’s a flurry of activity there trying to not to embarrass ourselves on stage. First show went pretty well after a bit of a rough start with our on-the-fly soundcheck. “Is that as loud as you’re going to play? What’s wrong with the bass amp? Both of you sing at the same time now!” and such help bordering on heckling from the show’s organizer/singer of the band after us, who maybe enjoyed making us look silly. No, he was nice afterwards and said we could play with him anytime. This Friday the “happy hour” crowd at work is threatening to relocate to where we’re playing, so that could be a fun mix of work of pleasure. Project managers shaking their heads, “And you wanted to be our Plan B spokesperson.”

So another 12-15″ of snow on the way tomorrow and Wednesday… I think we’re resigned to bringing our kids to work at this point. Maybe do some work from home at night. It’s time like these I want to revisit my on-demand daycare business idea, which like most of my ventures into capitalism never got beyond the name: ZipCare. Like ZipCars, except these are people who will pick up your kids and cryogenically freeze them until you’ve regained your status as a productive member of the workforce, built back up your savings account and recovered your sense of self… i.e. 2-3 years but with a firm limit on 4-years given the imperfect technology of cryogenics. Your children can be frozen separately, with the good one being unfrozen first before you’ve built up your courage to unfreeze the little terror of the house. Or you can freeze them in the dual chamber and imagine them keeping each other company during your own emotional recovery period. So far potential investors have balked or actually vomited upon hearing this pitch… I guess the whole Ted Williams debacle really set things back on the frozen family member front.

Anyway, I should go take out the trash and batten down the hatches for storm #12 of the season. Hope you’re staying warm and unfrozen… until next time, I’m yours with a shovel in a neighborhood of snowblowers (so plan B, I know).




About ericf73

A modern-day combination of Noah, Godot and Clark W. Griswold.
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One Response to plan B from outerspace

  1. Tom says:

    I like that you used the name Tom. Appropriate reference. Check out Not sure what the site is (i swear), but pretty sure it is inappropriate.

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