On Pistachios

Seriously, this is about pistachios.

I’m not kidding.

But realize that I never said it would be good.

Anyway, recently I realized that I like pistachios. The reason it took so long is because they aren’t manufactured by Nabisco and packaged under the name Oreo. However, I’ve now realized that they bring with them their own set of advantages:

1)      They taste good.

2)      They’re healthy.

3)      You have to work to get them, since they’re in their shells. I’ve read that this helps you with portion control, since it slows you down when snacking, plus you get to see all of the discarded shells, which is a trigger to make you think about how much you’ve eaten.

4)      When you’re snacking at work, it takes all of your concentration, because of said shell. Multitasking is not possible. You must leave your work behind and turn your focus entirely to snacking. Some may call this unproductive, but I think of it as a favorable derivative of healthy eating.

Besides all of the above, there’s something else that I’ve found I like about pistachio eating. Now, this contradicts point 3 above, but this is my blog, and if you have a problem with it then you can just make like a banana, if you know what I mean.*

Anyway, it’s when you find a pistachio that’s already worked its way out of its shell. This is like finding gold without having to dig, although probably not worth the same in a monetary sense. The point is that the work’s already been done for you! It’s a freebie! You get to pick it out and consume immediately. I’ve found that these “naked” pistachios are few and far between, so you always feel lucky when it happens, plus it makes the experience that much sweeter. If you don’t believe me, try it.

Unsurprisingly, this is the most that I can write about pistachios. So, I’ll see you next time, when we’ll delve deep into the exciting world of almonds.

Just kidding. I hope.

*Split! Har! #ProbablyNotWorthAFootnoteSinceIt’sAnOldJokeButOhWell

The Business Of Lunch

So what would ruin a good lunch? I can think of a few things: If it’s Mushroom Surprise. If it’s overcooked. If it’s undercooked. If you’re charged by a rhinoceros right before you take the first bite. Or it could be a business lunch.

Up until today, I’d had the good fortune of never having to attend a business lunch. To me, that’s the mark of good career management, because it most likely means that you’re still flying under the corporate radar, doing actual work, and not getting caught up in what I call Corporate Window Dressing. (“Look, a Powerpoint presentation that really says nothing!” “Look, some statistics manipulated to make us look good!” “Look, a bill from taking somebody out to lunch!”) Unfortunately, that all changed. Along with a co-worker, I went to a restaurant representing my company and talked shop with people from another in the hopes of strengthening our current business relationship and thus bolstering the chances of future collaboration that would profit both companies. What a way to waste a perfectly good lunch.

Not that it was the fault of the people who were there. They were all perfectly nice and polite. It’s just that I feel very strongly that lunch should never be mixed with business. Lunch is a save haven for me, a brief respite halfway through the day where I can do anything but think of work. If not for this business lunch, for example, I’d have gotten to escape into a good book for thirty minutes, but instead I ate a chicken sandwich and talked about accounts and mailings and databases. Ugh.

Our conversation switched between business and light-hearted chatter several times. I laughed on a few occasions, although usually just to fit in. (“And that was our corporate stretch goal. Do you believe that? Ha ha!”) I was also the new guy, as everybody else already knew each other. That meant that I got to answer the question, “So, what’s your background?” which was basically a way for the other company’s representatives to ask, “So, are you at all qualified to do what you claim you do, or are you essentially a glorified paper weight that’s going to make us regret ever coming to you guys in the first place?” Combine that with trying to eat in a dignified manner so I didn’t remind anybody of a hungry caveman, and it was a real hootenanny.

But luckily, it’s all over now. In retrospect, I didn’t handle it well. I should have spilled my lunch on one of the clients, or flirted shamelessly with the waitress in an unprofessional manner. Then maybe I’d never be asked back. There’s more than one way to fall beneath the corporate radar.

Celebrity Awkwardness

So Steve Yzerman was recently at a home Michigan Tech hockey game, where he was either scouting or had gotten really lost and had to get out from the cold. From what I understand, this created quite a fuss, which isn’t that surprising since he’s a Michigan legend, plus in the U.P. celebrity sightings are rare, aside from possibly running into Deve at Dawn at the gas station or something. Anyway, this got me to thinking about meeting famous people, and how I would be absolutely terrible at it.

Let’s say that I was at the Michigan Tech hockey game and I was able to meet Steve Yzerman to get an autograph. (Assuming he gave autographs, of course.) First, it’d be weird because I wouldn’t actually want an autograph. I just don’t see the point in them. (“Hey, this guy signed his name on a piece of paper just so I’d leave him alone! Awesome!”) Second, I wouldn't have anything to say to him, since I'm bad at small talk and don't know enough about hockey to talk serious shop. So basically I’d wait in line to meet Steve, and when it was my turn, I'd just politely nod and walk away.

(No disrespect intended to Steve here, by the way. I remember him playing on one leg in the 2002 playoffs. It was nothing short of inspiring.)

Now, if you think that’s bad, consider this: If I ever did have something to say to a celebrity, things would be even worse. For example, a few years back I watched George Strait in concert. It was fantastic, but if I’d hypothetically been granted a backstage meet and greet, it would have been a disaster. My full awkwardness would have showed itself, and I’d probably have said something like, “I was just watching you from a distance for a couple of hours and it was one of the highlights of my life! I hope that’s not weird! Is it weird? It can’t be weird! Everybody else was watching you, too! But I enjoyed it more than them! Which isn’t weird, is it? Also when you sang Amarillo by Morning, I almost cried.” That makes a non-autograph and a quick nod seem pretty darn good, doesn’t it?

Since I’d be horrible at meeting celebrities, one of my goals in life is to someday have the opportunity to meet one and then ignore them completely. Hopefully it’d be some egotistical celebrity who craves attention. I’d walk by and not give them a second look, as if to say, “I’d stop and say hello to you, Mr. The Situation, but I have a lot of anything but that to get done today.”

How fun would that be?

Now, in an effort to invoke audience participation, which will most likely fail miserably but is still worth a shot, what celebrity would you most like to ignore? Hint: Carrot Top.

It Could Happen...

The place: A long rectangular room with no overhead lighting, paid for solely with taxpayer money. The only illumination is the flashing of hundreds of computer screens. Slouching before every monitor is an analyst, intently studying the data scrolling by. Some have cups of coffee on their desks, others small meals, still others soda or snacks. The clacking of keyboards continually washes over the room.

Analyst 1: Hey, I’ve got something!

Analyst 2: {Wheels over to Analyst 1’s desk} What is it?

Analyst 1: This blog. FromTheDeskOfCurly.blogspot.com.

Analyst 2: What about it?

Analyst 1: It hasn’t been updated in almost two weeks.

Analyst 2: So?

Analyst 1: You don’t understand. It’s updated every week like clockwork, even if the content is sub-par, which it usually is.

Analyst 2: So whoever runs it is an attention hound?

Analyst 1: On yeah. The worst kind. It’s all about quantity, not quality.

Analyst 2: And this guy’s late with an update. What do you make of it?

Analyst 1: I dunno. But it could be something.

Analyst 2: Maybe he just got busy or something.

Analyst 1: No. He makes sure he updates each week. It’s obviously a priority with him. Look here, a few weeks ago he posted a poem about having writer’s block. Who does that? I mean, if you don’t have something to say, then don’t say anything. He obviously continually posts to make himself feel important.

Analyst 2: All right, you’ve convinced me. He should have posted by now. Something is definitely up.

Analyst 1: The question is, what?

Analyst 2: You thinking something sinister?

Analyst 1: Oh yeah. This is the kind of guy that’s writing a blog one day and then decides to take over the world the next.

Analyst 2: Still, he writes bad poetry. Do you really think he wants to take over the world?

Analyst 1: Do you wanna take the risk and ignore it?

Analyst 2: {Thinks it over} No.

Analyst 1: I thought so. I think we better see if we can find him.

Analyst 2: Well, his name is Curly. Think it’s a Three Stooges reference?

Analyst 1: Too obvious. It’s probably a red herring meant to throw us off.

Analyst 2: {wheeling back to his desk} I’m gonna start looking into this over here.

Analyst 1: Good.

Analyst 2: {After looking at the blog for a while} Wow, he makes lots of jokes about giant slugs. Sheesh, learn to quit while you’re ahead, buddy.

Analyst 1: No kidding.

Analyst 2: Hey, wait a minute! There’s a new post!

Analyst 1: I see it! I see it!

Analyst 2: Whoa. This is just about two guys talking back and forth in a room for what seems like hours. It doesn’t even make sense. Is this supposed to be funny? I don’t get it. All right, I’m changing my mind. If this guy has the time to write this then he’s obviously not thinking about taking over the world. Or if he is, he won’t have the slightest clue how to do it.

Analyst 1: You’re right. He’ll post just about anything, won’t he?

Analyst 2: Yup. All right, forget this. I’m going to lunch. You coming?

Analyst 1: Yeah. Let’s get out of here.