Fat globules of rain smacking against my apartment window as I type signal the breaking of a record; by tomorrow morning, Pat Kiernan on NY1 will undoubtedly be telling me that this month is now officially the wettest month in the recorded history of New York City. We have long since passed the wettest October (on or about the 15th, I think) given all the hurricane remnants and such that have come up the coast.
Not that I've seen the light of many days. Since July I've been working at a job where, on a good day, I only work 10 hours. Most other days it's 12-14. I alluded a while ago to needing a metaphor for the team I inherited; the best I could come up with was Japanese watermelon. The previous manager, well-meaning as he was, clearly confined these people to an astounding degree, creating beautiful and exotic forms that should never have existed. Hopefully by letting them grow as intended I can get more out of them; there's been a definite reduction in the stress level all around, and I think people are more likely to come to me with problems / complaints than they previously would have.
All this touchy-feely stuff is great, but the actual work sucks. We don't actually produce anything much; we just manage the program. The best we can do is point out an explosion just before it happens, which to be fair, is pretty hard to do.
So with all that, I've decided as of today to mean what I'm doing otherwise. I blew almost two whole days this weekend doing absolutely nothing, which was nice, but given my immense stores of manic energy, a little frustrating. From today forward then, I'll watch less TV, write more here (it's actually a relaxing, creative experience,) read more, and try and create a thing or two. Some nascent ideas have been forming and gathering shape, but without a good writing-down they'll ever get expressed. For instance, I had the idea for the Slingbox just before the stupid thing actually came out.
In any case, I'm back, and with any luck, will be able to stick to this resolution as intended.
I know I owe you good people an explanation, and one will come soon. Until then, enjoy this nice tidbit.
I sit on the same floor with the marketing team, which despite the inane questions I overhear from time to time ("Is FiOS TV IPTV?" "Won't TiVo be dead in 6 months anyway?" "What exactly does the Slingbox do?") does have its perks. Namely, free copies of magazines in which they advertise.
So in reading through Sync Magazine, I see "Jeremy Roenick's Top Ten: Stuff that helped the L.A. Kings All-Star center survive the NHL's 10-month lockout." Number 6? "Books: I read three books during the lockout, including Velocity by Dean Koontz. It's the most I've read since high school."
Now, look, Jeremy. Everyone gets you play hockey, and don't need to have a lot of depth in other areas, particularly the scholarly arts. You don't need to point out that lack of depth to us, since it makes you look silly. Moreover, don't brag about reading a book every 13 weeks, particularly pulp, as though it makes you look smarter. It doesn't. Dean Koontz doesn't even read Dean Koontz. He bangs his elbows on a keyboard with his eyes shut.
Feel free to use the comments to suggest books Jeremy ought to read, or failing that, the pulpy guilty pleasures you've been perusing lately.