My Wonderous Life

 

What if I was never...

Tis the season, for chestnuts roasting on an open fire, jack frost nipping at your nose, carols sung by a choir of Eskimos and, of course the annual challenge to see if you can get through an entire evening of TV watching without bumping into "It's a Wonderful Life." 

We've all seen it a few hundred times. Bedford Falls, George Bailey played by Jimmy Stewart, mean old man Potter. We all know the story by heart - a depressed George Bailey, ruined and hopeless decides to end it all on the icy bridge. His guardian angel a large white rabbit names Harvey persuades him that his life did have meaning - by taking him for a walk through Bedford Falls as if he hadn't lived. On the third day he wakes up and .... 

As I clicked over to the Comedy Channel to watch South Park, I vaguely wondered how the companies I have worked for would have been different if I hadn't worked my magic while on the payroll. Letsee - Wang Labs.  I helped design the first commercial application on the Wang VS Minicomputer. But they went bankrupt a few years after I left. (Perhaps they should have been nicer to me). Then Prime Computer, where my most memorable contribution was to design a customer file structure that would allow an intelligent executive to determine how much business a global customer had done with us. Pretty impressive except that the CFO didn't understand it. He had me transferred to Manufacturing because I pointed-out that he was the only one in the room who didn't get it. They scrapped that idea. A few years later, they were out of business. Then there was a short stint at Index Technologies. Aha, I managed the miraculous recovery of their lost user database. Unfortunately, before we got the thing up and running, they got bought out and the new guys laid everyone off. Then I went to Honeywell-Bull, where I analyzed and tested a new piece of software they were considering from Brock Controls. I advised against using this software. They thanked me for my incisive analysis by going ahead with the original plan and made me work on the project. Within a year, they were suing Brock for non performance. Everyone hated the new system. I went to the diploma factory where they were implementing Peoplesoft. I designed a nifty HR DataMart there, but the HR folks were too busy to try it out.  My best efforts were rewarded with an unwarranted  demotion. This act of clueless management turned out to be the best thing that had happened to me in a long time. I went to TAC, where I was finally recognized for my ideas and ability to stay awake during staff meetings. Ok, I admit that I did fall asleep once when the Director was giving us a pep talk. A few months later I was laid off. 

 So, that's the story of the impact my career has had on the world: Nada. I might just as well have been born rich, so I could have at least developed my Tennis game.

Strange Things

 Here's a mystery for you:  Every year around the beginning of January, I carefully take down the strings of  decorative lights that have been displayed for the holidays.  I do not casually stuff them in a box, but wind them, like Martha Stuart would, around my elbow in careful loops, so they will be able to be unfurled in an orderly fashion next season.  

But every year when I bring the box up from the cellar,  they have morphed into a hopeless jumble that requires at least 30 minutes of untangling before I can hang them. Apparently there exists some preternatural force that tangles them while in storage.

I am not complaining, mind you.  I'm just commenting on a domestic phenomena.  Tangled Christmas lights belong in the category "things I do not understand."   You know concepts like: Infinity and rules of grammar and spelling.

I'm starting to wonder of the basement is haunted by some malicious spirit.  That might explain the laundry-related mysteries -- lost socks, missing handkerchiefs and other  small items.  And don't get me started about loose wire hangers.  How come they always get tangled no matter how neatly you try to arrange them?  There must be a malevolent poltergeist that causes these phenomena.

And who, or what, keeps hiding my glasses and keys?