Tuesday, April 12, 2011

My Life As An Old Rock Star

While watching American Idol with St. Pauli Girl this season, I have become a big fan of Steven Tyler for all the wrong reasons. Not since Vanna White has someone done so little to earn a fat paycheck. His comments range from “You knocked it out of the park” to “That’s how you do it” to something unintelligible. If he were a real judge, everyone would win: plaintiffs and defendants. In the same cases.

So it occurred to me, what if I lived my life like Steven Tyler? Not the flamboyant, decadent rock star, but rather what if I just talked like him on a regular basis? I suspect my usual day as a computer programmer would go something like this:

(Note: I would need a Randy Jackson to follow me around all day to help me form some of my opinions. Let’s assume he’s there with me.)

8:00 a.m. Break Room. I get a cup of coffee that has just been brewed by the office admin.

Me: (after sipping coffee) Mmmm, sweetheart let me tell you something, when you brew coffee, you really know how to brew coffee. It’s like you magically know just how much of the coffee package to pour in the thing-a-ma-jig.

Admin: Um, thanks. It’s caffeinated.

Me: Let’s hope so. Java nice day.

8:30 a.m. At computer on my desk, responding to a meeting invitation
Me: (typing) “Your request sets my heart on fire. It makes my feet want to dance and hopscotch all the way to the conference room. You really know how to schedule a meeting. I’m not sure about the time though. I mean does anybody really know what time it is? Perhaps we shall chat by happenstance in another dimension, like a hallway. A chance meeting, eh? See you then!”

10:00 a.m. Performing a code review of a co-worker’s program.
Me: Sammy, you knocked that one out of the park. That “Do Loop” has got the “to do” of my “doo wap” doing somersaults. I feel it right here (pointing to my heart). There’s a little misty tear there.

Randy Jackson: Yeah, okay, dawg, so you got the “ifs” and the “elses” but the comments leave me wanting. I feel like there could be a little more lingo there to really let me know what’s shaking in that sub-routine.

Me: I concur.

11:00 a.m. Arguing with co-workers about where to go for lunch
Sammy: What about Olive Garden?

Me: My pasta flour is not blooming.

Sammy: There’s that new deli down the street, The Souper Submarine.

Me: (long sigh) Down periscope.

Randy: Yo, man, all you ever want is soups and salads. Bring me the big greasy burger. I say let’s go to Burger Dawg Haus.

Me: I concur. Hooters it is.

1:00 p.m. Monthly Budget Meeting
(Rosemary has just finished presenting department numbers.)

Me: Rosie, I gotta tell you, what you’re doing with those numbers makes me blush. I mean that’s a 36-24-36, A-1, brickhouse budget. A good manager knows how to manage, and the management you just showed on that budget just blew me away. Beautiful.

Randy Jackson: Alright, so listen up. There were some good spots, some pitchy spots and some spots I just didn’t like. The part where you scheduled me for 60 hours next week just doesn’t work for me. And some of these numbers just look like you’re spoutin’ ‘em off the top of your head. In your performance, it almost looked like you were reaching here then reaching there pulling numbers out of thin air. I don’t know dawg.

Me: I concur.

3:30 p.m. In the Testing Lab
(I’m standing behind Anne as she works through a test scenario on the computer. Suddenly the computer bursts into flames.)

Anne: Oh my God, let’s get out of here!

Me: Annie, always lookin’ to vamoose just as things heat up.

Anne: It’s on fire! The halon gas will be coming on any second! We need to get out of here.

Me: Annie, to be a good tester, you need to know how to test things, and I don’t think you’re putting your best foot forward. Maybe you need to find something that’s more you. Find something that screams and shouts: Annie!

Anne: My name is Anne!

Me: Who?

Anne: This thing was running just fine until I loaded your program. Your stupid program blew up the computer! It’s your fault!

Me: Annie, a wise man, I believe his name was Little Caesar said, “Don’t blame the messenger.”

Anne: Little Caesar said, “Pizza, pizza!”

Me: Excellent advice as well. Now, I'm all hungry.

5:30 p.m. At door of Boss’s office
Me: Boss man, are the paychecks in yet?

Boss: Yeah, they just got here.

Me: Sweet Jesus Hallelujah! Aiiieeeeyooowwww! Koo-koo ka-choo! I do love payday!

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