Vintage Work Id

Continue tour of bankrupt office art and vintage id badges.

In 2002 I made a promise to myself that I would make the break from my employer before the next election rolled around. By April 2004 I was gone.

Recently, I read “The Garden of Agony”, an essay written in 1986 by Hunter S. Thompson, that perfectly describes that defining moment in 2002.

He works now as a political consultant in Washington, for $1000 a day, for either party or any candidate who can afford him. “Things are different now,” he told me last week. “The only thing that matters now is money. It’s so much worse than it was 10 years ago that you don’t even want to hear about it. This town is worse than it’s ever been. These new people have no shame. It’s like living in a whorehouse. I’m getting out.”

Then, one afternoon last last week, I got a call from my old friend Patrick Caddell, one of the ranking pollsters and wizards in the business, who stunned me by saying that he also was “quitting politics.”

“Don’t lie to me, Patrick, ” I said to him. “You were born in this business. It’s your life.”

“No more,” he replied. “The whole political system is a disaster area, and it’s getting worse. There are some very sick people in the business today. It has gone from the Best and Brightest to the Worst and Meanest. I got into politics because I believed in things; now I’m getting out for the same reason. It got so bad that I was feeling dirty all the time. I finally had a shower built into the office, but it didn’t do any good.”

Bookmark Tilly’s Story to read when you need to be inspired after a “bad day” at the office.

Smart girl, that Tilly.

Tilly’s Location: 59th Floor office, center of South Tower’s west side:

A horrific boom resounded throughout the office, so loud that it reminded me of a supersonic jet screaming right next to the window, only 10 times louder. The building shook so severely that I had to grab the desk to keep my footing! Instantly, I spun around and ran into my boss office to look out the window facing west into New Jersey. Stepping up on the air conditioning vent, I pressed my face and body against the window (not the smartest move, but it gave me a perspective on how severe the situation was). I saw monumental amounts of debris blowing by and raining down everywhere: chunks of burning metal, papers, desks — and bodies.

I could not believe what I was seeing.

Although we had a good evacuation procedure in place, I was not going to wait for it to be dictated to me. I grabbed my backpack, then a frightened Karen, and stressed in a loud, forceful manor laced with foul language (using everything in the book and then some!) that everyone needed to move now! I didn’t know at that moment what had occurred, but I knew that we were all in grave trouble, and that our best course of action was to be as close to the ground as we could go…

59 Flights of Stairs:

I like the way this girl thinks:

When we reached the 38th floor, the now controversial P.A. announcement was issued that we should either return to our floor or exit onto the floor where we were, but to stay in the building because the falling debris made it unsafe to be outside, and our South Tower was not yet secure. No one going down in the stairwell stopped…

It took me exactly 17 minutes to get down 59 flights of stairs because eventually it turned out to be the time difference between the two planes hitting each tower.

And that’s just a quick trip to the lobby…..

Definitely a story to be archived.

Today’s tip for better living: Layer your clothing.

Spotted at the gym:

Jack Lalanne

In order to offset the grim business of death and dying, I like to mix it up a couple of days with fitness in the morning, funeral in the afternoon. The fitness police job starts very early, and there’s a narrow window where there’s no trained medical personnel on staff*. Usually, on those days I’m operating on 3-4 hours of sleep, and I’ve had a premonition that with this early bird crowd, the “Door Rattlers”, that one of my silver foxes would over exert themselves.

Today it happened a little after 6 AM. One of the regulars strolled in half asleep and starting gettin’ sweaty on the stepmill. I saw him fall backward and heard his head thud. Luckily, we had a doctor in the house who also happened to be working out and took control.

The doctor revived him, our patient walked out on his own two feets and admitted he was straight out of bed, no food, no liquids. No good.

Today’s Fitness Tip: Avoid consuming cabbage and fried food before strenuous exercise.

*I am CPR certified and can shock your heart as well as fire a taser.

Earlier this week an old friend called and offered me a “great opportunity“. A chance to get back in the ad game. She works at a small ad agency here in town and knew I’d be perfect for the job. And I would. But it’s more hours than I want and I can barely manage what I have.

As scary as being a small business owner is, it’s preferred over being locked down on the Cube Farm full time. All along, I’ve devoted a few (very few) hours to a part-time job that helps cover college tuition for the intern and keeps my foot in the business world. That little job allows me to interact just enough with the human race to satisfy my social needs and interface with management for less than thirty minutes to remind myself that I like being my own boss.

There are enough ad blogs out there that I can get my fix and never have to leave the driveway.

2008 was do or die in the Urn Garden. My goal has always been to get the Garden stabilized and launch another project. That was the three year plan. However, the other project is on hold in order to concentrate on the bread and butter. I have a bad habit of trying to juggle and spread myself too thin. We’ll see what develops.

The best thing about August 2008? The mild weather. Maybe it’s the payoff for extreme storm activity earlier this year (and the last two years).

Also?

The Olympics.

Oh yeah, and good health.

Other than that? August has been a bit of drain mentally and financially. Full of challenges.

And it’s not over yet. We’ll talk later.

The Good News? It’s making me stronger and more creative.

Speaking of creative minds: Jetpacks creates art in his cube. He still keeps a tidy desk.

Today’s Tip for Better Living: Stop wishing your life away.

The Today Show is never on here. Ever. But today, NBC’s Today Show was Must See TV. Why? To catch an interview with my latest study. Top Blogger Heather Armstrong of Dooce.com. If you want to skip the intro to Mommy Blogging and go right to Heather’s interview the time code is at approx. 3:05.

Maybe I’m a little late to the party, I just discovered Dooce from June-Gonna-Eat-That, and I’m both intrigued and amused. Heather’s bio is interesting as well as her presentation. The Blog Gets Personal. Always has, and she has the hate-mail to prove it (and she showcases it).

Dooce.com is loaded with advertising. The blog format unintentionally uses the oldest advertising appeal; kids and animals. And it supports the family.

Kathy Lee was clueless to the concept. Who Knew that this blog thingy on the interweb could cost you your job and possibly create a new revenue stream?

I want to know more. When I worked in television, I always enjoyed working on the production part of a show or ad.

Now? We’re all producers.

Five Years of Consternation:

Revelations in the Garden: Just realized that we (me, myself and I) have been consternated for the last five years. Five Years! Who knew?

Apparently everyone around me. While sorting thru some photos snapped on mother’s camera, and some shots taken in my last season on the JOB in the last five years, the brow is always knitted. Always, every picture.

This pose? “Thinkin’ on my feet.”
Not a good look.

This funeral supply business might be killing me.

Nah.

The tension started earlier than that. It was the slow burn as I phased out at the tee-vee station and transitioned into SMALL BIDNEZ Owner. Note to self: Find pix of me hugging a sales weasel.

I lost my joy during that transition. And friends, I feel a change in the air. Maybe it’s the cart load of flowers that I bought, or the added “D”. , but it’s exciting, and I’m looking forward to the future.

Weekend choices:

1. Sort socks
2. Work on inventory
3. Swing in the hammock, backyard-hillbilly style.

Guess which one I chose?

Overheard at the OFFICE:

Regarding: Choices for the stimulus check spend:

1. Dental Work
2. Credit Card bill
3. Plasma TV

On recent Undercover Assignment Adventure, I asked the BOSS if he had time to check my breath.

His reply?

“Are you on the clock?”

Oh yeah, it’s your breath blowing back in your face!

Memos From The Front Office:

Personal Hygiene- It has been brought to my attention, directly, and indirectly, that a few staff members have either occasional or chronic bad breath. Please be reminded that gum and mints are perfectly acceptable and encouraged if you suspect you have this problem. If you have more than onion breath from lunch, I would encourage you to seek out medical treatment, as this could be an indication of a serious health condition. Obviously, this is a sensitive area, but I know that I would want to know when I need a piece of gum or a mint. Please do a check of yourself, and if you feel comfortable to help out a co-worker, let them know if they are unapproachable due to bad breath.

No joke. Company wide email.

Today’s Tip: Take a mint when offered. No, really. You need it.