“I need you guys to tell me if this sounds too flippant.”
Not since the first time I saw the crawl at the beginning of Star Wars in the summer of 1977 at the Rialto Theater with a box of Hot Tamales in one hand and 20 ounces of pop in the other, have I seen or heard a more brilliant precursor to a wonderful act of creativity.
Of course, I didn’t know at the time when that statement was uttered that it would stand out as the day’s most memorable moment.
Case in point, consider the day’s notable moments prior the determination of flippancy.
Ladies and gentlemen, for the better part of an hour this morning, my britches vibrated with the frequency of a cheap Hamm radio.
Yeah, ya gotta be a certain age to appreciate that metaphor and from whom and where I lifted it.
The britches where vibrating because I was the unwitting participant in an email chain between Wifey and her 3 siblings on the menu creation for Thanksgiving. The smart phone which I wear on my hip just happens to be tuned into the email account which was copied on the menu dilemma.
Coupled with announcements that I have surveys to complete and sales pitches from Canadian pharmacies offering me little blue pills designed to do something other than keep me in the Matrix, let me assure you that my ability to receive email anywhere kept me pretty pants happy morning.
As it looks right now, there will be three different types of green beans.
In the meantime, we’re signed up for rolls and something chocolate.
But that wasn’t all.
For reasons which are still unknown to me, the discussion of running cow patties through a Play-Doh Fun Factory became a topic of discussion at the office today.
*picture not available*
I can only say at this point that the aforementioned imagery, as disturbing as it is, will be used as a rather frightening metaphor in a soon to written blog in which I currently don’t know the subject matter.
So naturally, between buzzing britches which gave me the sensation that maybe I had to visit the restroom, and the thought of poop being extruded from something other than the bidness end of an alimentary canal, the day was ripe for some quality material.
Thus, the request for feedback.
Understand at this point that the person playing Occupy Cubicle next to me had the less than glorious task to fire off an email to a variety of parties inside and outside of the company. He’s been on one of those ugly ass projects for the last several months which has not only sucked the life force out of him, but has also inspired him to consider the thought of running a cow pie through a Play-Doh Fun Factory to be more palatable than its first impressions.
Regardless of such, it’s necessary in emails like the one he was writing to maintain a certain level of decorum and delicacy. Don’t you dare come out in a note like that and say something direct and to the point.
You do that, and you’ve pretty much screwed the pooch.
“I just want align expectations with reality.”
It was a brilliant statement. It was direct, and to the point.
The problem was that it didn’t only screw the pooch, it taunted the rabid pit bull which has been shot a few times too many in the scrotum with a pellet gun.
“Uuummmm, yes.” I responded. “That’s too flippant.
Funny as hell, but too flippant.” Someday, there will be a day to use that phrase in a live action fire fight held in the theater of Cubeville. When that happens, there will be casualties and collateral damage galore.
“Try something like ‘We will continue to review the deliverables for this project’.”