Black Friday 2011

As mentioned in the Thanksgiving Day post, John and Jay requested that their brunch guests bring nonperishable food items as a donation to the Poverello Center in Wilton Manors rather than a host gift of wine or liquor. Everyone was very generous with their donations. When we consolidated all the food items into full bags, we had about 20 paper grocery bags full of food. We were very excited to drop off the donations at the center.

The center's director was quite surprised by the size of our delivery and very grateful. He offered to give us a tour of the food bank. This facility provides for the nutritional needs of approximately 2500 HIV+ people who live below the poverty line in Broward County, Florida. The center receives grant money from the Ryan White foundation, but the foundation dictates the items that can be purchased using the grant money.  Recipients then can choose from a set menu of items (7 fresh fruits, 7 fresh veggies, 7 canned goods, 7 meat servings, and various baked goods) once per month.  Since most recipients had already picked up their Thanksgiving boxes, the items we delivered were to be divided into bonus bags to be distributed in December. Besides grant money donations, several area grocery stores (Publix and Costco) also donate meats and baked goods. The food bank appeared very clean and organized with several walk-in coolers containing a variety of fresh goods.

There was also a large room off the main area that appeared to be a conference room with book shelves surrounding the table in the center of the room.  The shelves were stacked high with what looked like blankets. This is actually an area in which panels for the AIDS quilt are repaired by volunteers. The quote that choked us all up was "this room holds so many souls."

At the end of the tour we thanked our guide and rushed out into the parking lot - each of us staking out a different corner of the car - crying our eyes out. It was a very moving and rewarding experience. These folks are dedicated and are doing God's work with grace and integrity.

After a quick lunch, John and I decided to head to the beach for a little relaxation time in the sun. Once we arrived at the beach, it was a bit cloudy and windy, so we detoured to the Royal Palms Resort.

The Resort

Picture it, two pools, full service bar, food, two DJ's, and a spa. After chasing the sun around the resort and a light lunch where we shared an excellent Cuban sandwich, we headed to the spa for our 3:00 deep tissue massages.

The pool by the bar

The massages were a delightful way to spend the afternoon - instead of braving the mall and the hoards of zombie shoppers. Rubbed, pulled, relaxed, and well oiled, we returned home for a quick nap before the evening's planned festivities.

Jay had tickets to the White Party.

White Party at the Miami Seaquarium - Jay is in there somewhere....

John and I had tickets for the Leather Masked Ball. It was Black Friday after all...

Sorry, no pics of this event  - but you can Google it if you are curious.

It was a late night for us all. I ended it chowing down on an open-faced turkey sandwich with dressing, gravy, and homemade cranberry sauce. Delish! I slept like a baby for the rest of the night.

Thanksgiving Highlights 2011

Although it was an incredibly busy day for John and Jay hosting a brunch and a dinner, our Thanksgiving day celebrations were heartwarming due to the warmth and generosity of everyone who contributed to the fundraising efforts. The day started with laughter, fun, a great brunch spread, and a full service bar.  It ended with an intimate dinner among friends in which we were all grateful for the family we were born with and the family we make as we pass through this life.

I love these guys. Thanks John and Jay for including me, once again, in your celebrations.

No detail was overlooked in preparation 

Croissant / Meyers Rum french toast to be served with a banana, pecan, brown sugar reduction.
Decadent and delicious!

A portion of the 60+ attendees enjoying the day

The haul: John and Jay asked everyone to bring nonperishable items to donate to the Poverello Center
here in Wilton Manors.  We will be busy transporting all of this food on Friday.
Everyone was very generous in their contributions to those in need.

Insert joke here....

Brined, rubbed and ready for the oven.

The finished product.  Martha's got nothing on our presentation skills.  And,
I am not a big fan of turkey, but this ended up being one of the most delicious, moist
turkeys that I have every eaten.  Job well done to Jay and his brining and rubbing skills.

Doors open, candles lit, breeze blowing.  Damn I love south Florida.

Thanksgiving dinner by candle light followed by the GAGA Thanksgiving special.  Does it get any gayer? 

Motivation. Motivation. Where for art thou, motivation?

Suprisingly I got a lot of work done yesterday, despite the little side trip to the beach around 1:30.  On the way home, we stopped to pick up the Thanksgiving day turkey and a pumpkin cheesecake at Whole Foods. While at the store, I texted my friend Johnny Bravo to see what his plans were for the week. He was free Tuesday night so we decided to get together for a quick dinner. Oddly, he did not ask where or what I wanted to eat, but since he is in the hospitality industry, I trusted his choice.  And, he made a great one. 

Cafe Casablanca is situated along the Ft. Lauderdale beach. We sat at the outside bar and had a great view of the beach walkway.  The weather was breezy, but quite balmy - just perfect for sitting outside and having a leisurely dinner. After a beer and a seared ahi tuna appetizer, we ordered dinner and a bottle of wine. I had the duck, Johnny had an outstanding mediterranean inspired chicken dish. We finished up with snifters of chocolate liqueur spiked with a shot of expresso.  Besides the great atmospher, conversation, and alcohol it was also "Industry" night at the restaurant - so our bill was 50% off.  It was great catching up with an old friend.

We met up with John and Jay at Rosie's in Wilton Manors for a night cap. Although I had worked all day, I was starting to feel a bit like I was on vacation.  Hmmmm - perhaps that is why I am having such a difficult time focusing on work this morning.

I will be signing out of the company web connection around noon to help John finish the shopping and to prepare food for tomorrow's all day feeding festival. John and Jay are hosting a fund raising brunch for around 50 people from 10:00 - 3:00 (Myer's Rum & Croissant French Toast, with bacon, sausage, fresh fruit and a full service bar) benefiting the Poverello Center of Wilton Manors. They will then be serving a traditional Thanksgiving turkey dinner starting around 7:00. It will be a fun day to contemplate my family and friends who together make my life so happy, exciting, rewarding, and unspeakably fabulous.

Happy Thanksgiving Everyone!
Glenn

Lunch Break

Gotta love working remotely.
I heart you technology!

Uploading this blog post

The Stuff that Weekends are Made of...

The weather has been unseasonable warm in Raleigh this weekend.  It is difficult to get my head wrapped around the coming holiday season when sitting out on the balcony in my bathing suit, evening up my tan this morning.

However, yesterday as I arrived at the gym, there was the distinct smell of Christmas tree in the air.  Perhaps Logan Trading Company has received their first shipment of trees for those early birds who can't wait to get their holiday decorations out of storage. The smell did jolt me back to reality. The season is upon us again.

I will be celebrating Thanksgiving in Ft. Lauderdale with my best buddy John and his partner Jay. I am heading down Monday afternoon to spend the week, hence my "too little, too late" attempt to make a few muscles at the gym this weekend. While I have been somewhat diligent in my workouts, I have not lifted any weights since before my trip to Asia.  I have been keeping the pre-holiday weight off by spinning, taking some core classes, and running. However, at almost 49, it doesn't take long for the little bit of bicep I have worked so hard for to shrivel down to my normal tooth pick sized arms. And, fashion in Ft. Lauderdale will not allow me to hide my lack of muscle tone under button down collar shirts.

So yesterday, I hit the weights and last night I hit the bars to give my drinking muscles a workout. What is it about the second shot of tequila that makes the third shot seem like such a good idea?  While this time I left the bar with my integrity intact, the early morning texts and phone calls reminded me that I am not yet ready for a week on the party circuit.

To punish myself for having so much fun last night, I made an extra large pot of coffee, had a nice long read on the porch as mentioned above, made myself a big greasy brunch, and curled up with Roxy on the sofa for a nap.  Upon waking, I went to the gym to make another muscle and to work out the stiffness from yesterday. Then headed to the pub to meet my friends Cathy and Arjay for Sunday Funday.

Yep, good weekend all around. I am ready. I have primed my liver. I am over packed.  I can't wait to see the palm trees and bathe in the warm breezes of South Florida.

Thoughts from the Saddle

Today I sent a request to several of my former managers to write an endorsement for me on LinkedIn. I am not actively searching for a new job, but you never know who is looking at your profile. And as a good boy scout, one must always be prepared to open the door of success when opportunity knocks.

Tonight in spin class, I started thinking that this request was a little like having an argument with your partner in which you tell them that if they would only do _________, you would know that they really cared. The blank is often filled in with "buy me a box of candy, send me flowers, surprise me by cooking dinner, put down the toilet seat, rub my shoulders, do that thing we saw on the internet last week."  You get the picture.

Somehow, like the resulting gifts following the above "discussion about my feelings," I am guessing that the emotional payoff will somehow be sullied by the need to ask.  Perhaps I am just feeling a little emotional or sensitive this week, but if you really loved me, you would know what I want - I shouldn't have to ask for it!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Yep! Passive aggressive muscles still strong - Hahahaha.
Happy Monday Everyone!

Fun with Horoscopes

Lately my fortune cookies have been underwhelming. They have not easily lent themselves to playing the fortune cookie game. But, all good things come to those who wait and today's horoscope provided the perfect set up: "The Moon's conjunction with expansive Jupiter tempts you to take on more than you can complete, so don't say yes unless you really mean it in bed."

Juvenile? Probably, but I have been in need of a good giggle for more than a week. The problem is that I have been in meetings all day, and I keep saying yes. I am so easy.... 

From the Lists: #57 Parade’s End

From the Lists: #57 Parade’s End  by Ford Madox Ford (1924 -1928)

As I work my way through the 100 best novels, I seem to be stuck in the war section.  This entry however goes back a little farther in time - all that way back to World War I -- well sort of.  The war is really more of a backdrop for British characters behaving badly rather than the main driver of the action. For the most part, the reader only learns about the main character, Christopher Tietjens, through the thoughts and actions of orbiting characters with whom he has contact. Consisting of four parts, this work was published between 1924 and 1928, and is an excellent representative of the modernist movement of the time as exemplified by T. S. Elliot, Emile Zola, Virginia Wolfe, and James Joyce.  

Synopsis:

Tietjens is the last Tory, Victorian gentleman in Edwardian England.  As the youngest son of landed, titled, north country gentry, he is educated, brilliant, a little dumpy, and employed in government service before the start of the war.  By all accounts he is the perfect example of his class.  He is unconcerned with earning money and has no ambition other the satisfaction he receives from doing his job well and living up to the moral requirements of his class.  As the ideal gentleman, you would think that he would be loved and respected, but as it turns out, he is a magnet for ingratitude and scorn. 

The first three parts of Parade’s End focus on the tribulations piled upon this paragon of virtue.  His coldly beautiful, high society wife has left him for a fling with another man and Tietjens allows her to return when the affair has run its course. His best friend has borrowed more money than he can ever hope to repay to fund an affair with a minister’s wife. His manager is intimidated by Tietjen’s brilliance and only wants to move him out of the Statistics department because Tietjens refuses to “fudge” the statistics he is responsible for gathering and analyzing. Since Tietjens refuses to lower himself into the mud to defend himself, he becomes the center of a swirling gossip storm concerning his marriage, finances, and loyalty to the  British government.  

This mischaracterization follows Tietjens through the first three sections of the novel – before the start of the war, his first deployment to a troop transfer station, and his final deployment to the front line trenches just prior to the Armistice. And while Tietjens does not rise above his tormentors and wreak a terrible vengeance upon them as would happen in a modern novel, he does survive his ordeals to return to Britain and his true unrequited love, Valentine Wannop.

I really enjoyed the style of the later sections of this novel. When Tietjens returns to England, the story is picked up from Valentine’s  thoughts and observations based on more misleading gossip and half-truths as she ponders her future as the possible mistress and/or care-giver to a possibly shell-shocked war veteran. The final section is simply a day at the farm purchased by Tietjens following the war, where he lives out of wedlock with Valentine , his invalid brother, and his brother’s wife. This entire section is told from the perspective of the farm hands as well as other ancillary characters from the first three sections of the novel, including Tietjens’ vindictive wife, Sylvia. The character of Christopher Tietjens is only actually present in the narrative in the final two pages, but the observations related by those who live near him are sufficient to provide solace to the reader as to the state of Tietjens’ life and his chances for a “happily ever after” ending. This style of storytelling is modernist to the core and quite satisfying in the end.

From a reader’s perspective, I was often frustrated by Tietjen’s passivity in the face of repeated attacks from those he loved and helped most.  If there was ever a Christ-like martyr in modernist literature, this character embodies the archetype perfectly.  And yet, even though he suffered in silence and never fought back, as would be expected in today’s literature, he eventually came to live the life of his dreams.

Recommendation: This is a tough one.  I am a big fan of the modernist school of literature, which focuses on the art and style of writing rather than the creation of a well-constructed plot with a clearly delineated beginning, middle, and end. With that said, I thought this was an excellent example of the style as it was being perfected during the 1920’s. From the perspective of story, there is not much here – mostly just people misjudging, miscommunicating, and behaving badly towards the nicest person they know. My father once told me that the more you do for someone, the more they will resent you.  And, in the world of Parade’s End, this outlook proves to be true.

The Rules that Bind Us

A few of my libertarian friends vociferously protest the rules that I simply see as requirements for the smooth operation of polite society. Generally, the volume of their protests is directly proportional to the amount of alcohol they have consumed. In my opinion, these blowhards are just vocalizing their own issues with authority and authority figures by cloaking it in arguments about big government regulation.  But even these socially inhibited individuals agree that there are some unspoken rules that we inherently understand and abide by, without any overt instruction.

I mean, every guy I know scores a perfect score on the urinal game (beware, there is a trick question in there). I am pretty sure that neither my dad, nor any other authority figure in my life, provided instruction on the proper use of or behavior required to properly behave in a public men's room. 

The following public restroom rules are simply understood by 95% of all sober men:

1. No talking at the urinal
2. Even if you recognize the shoes poking from under the bathroom stall, you don't say hello to your friend sitting on the toilet
3. Regardless of the smell emanating from the stall next door, ALL comments are kept to yourself
4. Friendly conversation is only appropriate in the area preceding or immediately surrounding the sink
5. Greetings at the sink should be extended as if you had no idea the other person was in the restroom with you (see rules 1-4 above)

The other 5% of men are either CEO's / drunk / or were raised by wolves. Apparently power and/or alcohol erase the vulnerability issues experienced by the other 95% of men who must endure the Sr. VP discussing work / family / weather from inside a stall while flatulently pinching off a loaf.  Invariably, you are trapped at the sink, in a panic, waiting for a pause in the conversation or an opportunity to escape. At the same time you must mask your disgust or smother your giggles (see rules 2-5 above) - after all, some things will always be funny.

And before I get flamed by my female readers, I understand that the rules above are distinctly male rules. For us, going to the bathroom is NEVER a social occasion. Bathroom conversations are to be avoided, even when you are trying to make a "romantic" connection (see Larry Craig Police Report - silent hand gestures)  From what I hear, the ladies are much more concerned about the post toilet hand washing habits of those who share their restrooms than they are about the issues listed above.

But, I digress. There are other places where there are unspoken rules such as being quiet in airplanes, respecting personal space, and not speaking on elevators. I understand that some of these are distinctly American issues, however, elevator behavior is a lot like the urinal behavior described above.  If you are the only person on the elevator, when someone else boards, you both move to the farthest corners and unless you know one another, there is generally no speaking. When others board, everyone shifts in order to maximize their own space. Besides the space and talking similarities to urinal behavior, people also tend to not look directly at their fellow elevator occupants, but rather they may look at the reflection in the door, or try to catch a quick glimpse - seemingly while doing something else. Perhaps I am "painting with a broad brush" here and making sweeping generalities, but this has been my experience.

Recently, I was on the elevator at work with four other passengers. We had spread ourselves along the back of the elevator car, into the corners, leaving the middle of the car open. On our way down to the lobby, we stopped on the sixth floor and one more person stepped into our comfortable, equally shared space. However, when our new traveling companion stepped onto the elevator, he remained facing the back of the elevator - blatantly and defiantly staring at the folks spread along the back wall. He rode down to the lobby without turning around, unable to see the floor progression, not knowing if his destination had been reached. There was quite a bit of throat clearing and uncomfortable shifting for the duration. For me, thoughts of concealed weapons, knives, gunfire, and general anarchy flashed through my head as I studiously tried to avoid looking at the man standing in my personal space, unmoving, facing me, not blinking. 

And like some uncomfortable bathroom experiences, it was not until I was back in the fresh air and re-established my comfort zone that I was able to rationally think about my feelings. As the unexplained and unexpected tension eased, I got the giggles and realized that there is some humor in almost all harmlessly uncomfortable situations - particularly for people like me who believe that the unspoken rules are there for a reason. Without them, polite society would cease to exist in the men's room and we would end up all peeing on each others' shoes.

A Bit of Navel Gazing: Part 2

A few months ago, I had a melancholy day and wrote about five year plans and my current lack of one. Today made me realize that a life without a plan, is a life controlled by others.

This morning started out pretty well. My sleeping patterns have returned to normal. No more staring at the ceiling at midnight only to wake up at 4:00 AM unable to return to sleep. I was up on time, played with Roxy while having my juice and waiting for the coffee to brew. Had a good read, hit the shower, and headed to work with a clear understanding of what I needed to get done today.

My boss messaged me to let me know that she was going to be working from home because she was baby-sitting her grandchildren while her daughter had a predelivery medical exam - grandchild number five is due any day now. She messaged me again in about 20 minutes to check on some documentation she posted, then again around 9:45 to let me know that she was in the process of being fired from her job. Her position was being eliminated - or in European terms, she had become redundant.

My jaw dropped. I was flabbergasted and gob smacked. She had been with the company for 10+ years. Had created the group in which I work. She and I split the work for our division with her taking several applications in addition to her management duties. She was a wonderful manager and a friend who was eager to assist when necessary, wisely council when a few words of encouragement were required, and quietly listen when you just needed to vent. I will miss her smile and her humor. She was a giant goof-ball sometimes, but she was quick to laugh and fought fiercely for those who deserved more.

Our company is transitioning to a new agile development and release method. I expected some churn and had girded my loins to cheerfully accept the rapid change required for the transition over the next several months. This, however, was not what I had prepared for - nor was I prepared for the other folks who were also let go today. I am sure that there is a plan in this move somewhere, I just hope that the Masters of the Universe choose to share it with us mortals sometime soon. Uncertainty is my enemy.

To make this day even more of a downer:

• My last remaining lunch buddy also turned in his notice
• The Greeks thumbed their noses at the rest of Europe and will most like be back on the drachma when I visit next summer.
• I received a "thanks, but no thanks" email from a potential employer.
• All of my emoticons have been frowny faces.
• My focus was ruined and very little work was completed

My horoscope today read: "Normally you are a champ at keeping fact and fiction distinct, yet now the fabric of life contains both. Don't over analyze what's happening; just appreciate the magic of what you can create." Somehow I am missing the magic and hoping that when I wake up tomorrow that this was really just one of those dreams that show you a possible future. But I am afraid that would be the fiction mentioned above.

With today in mind, it is time to seriously consider what I want to be doing five years from now. I need a solid direction so that if this door closes, I will have some idea as to which door before me I need to push through to get to my chosen destination. 

Best wishes to my former colleagues!
I will miss you all
Glenn