Phones and Fools
October 4th 2006 15:15
I told you all that on Monday I had to move (at my job). We moved from one building to a warehouse type building. It was actually quite a smooth move considering there are about 600 people moving into this building. I was unpacking my things and setting up my desk when I noticed the phone sitting on the floor in my cubicle. Wow, it really moved me. Sounds stupid I know, but there it was, all black and shiny with gray push buttons and a cord! It instantly took me back to places in past that I hadn’t revisited in a long time. It seems that for the last several years, I worked from a cell phone, funny how we just move with the times and don’t even notice that we are doing it. I remember when I took this job, they introduced me to their phone called Spectra Link, which simply looked like an older model mobile phone. I can’t even remember when I last had a corded phone on my desk (or at home for that matter).
I am easily distracted so I had to shake off the thoughts running through my mind and put an end to this trip down memory lane, I really needed to get focused back on the task at hand, unpacking. Making good progress, I take a minute to hang a picture of my family, a cute calendar and phone list on my institutional blue padded cubicle walls. I spend a lot of time here so it needs some personal touches. And then…..that shiny black phone rings!!! Whoa….what a sound! It’s a far cry from the tunes that ring from everyone’s cell phones all day. Ring…It’s loud and well, sort of abrasive, but gives me a warm feeling inside. That ring, that in years past connected us. No songs, just a ring. [B]Ring[/B]…..man, it used to be so cool to get a call from a family member in another state. Their voice was so loud and clear, just like they were there with you and I don’t remember ever dropping a call. Ring…I remember we had a party line and our calls were a double ring. There was a guy on the party line who used to always seem to need the phone when I got on it. He would threaten to tell my parents that I was on it too long. So, when I would hear his single ring, I would quietly pick up the phone and eavesdrop for a minute or two then shout something really obscene like, “You’re a mean man!” and then hang up loudly. Ring….ahh, that makes me smile just thinking about it. Ring…. Ring….
A voice echoing from somewhere in the warehouse interrupted my thoughts, “Answer the damn phone!”
Alright, alright, “Hello?” Hmm, too late, nothing but a dial tone….wow…that’s a nice sound too…it’s been so long since I’ve heard one of those…….
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STORY BLOCK
TOP PERFORMER
by
Cathy Jourdan
The hotel looked glamorous at night. The parking lot was full as many people got out of their cars, dressed very nicely and headed for the front door of the hotel. Tim Buckman, a clean cut man in his thirties, gets out of his newer Lexus. He ran around to the passenger side and opened the door for his date, Tracy, a petite attractive young woman. Randy McKnight, a very striking black man in his forties exited the vehicle from the back seat and helped his wife Tenisia. Randy joined Tim, slapping him on the back as soon as he was within reach. “Are you ready...big man?”
Tim smiled at his friend as Tracy grabbed him and wrapped her arm through his. “Come on Mr. Correction Officer of the year...I hope they have good food.”
The four walked into the hotel and entered the elaborately decorated ballroom. The room was very large, but looked a bit messy because of dishes still sitting in front of guests. Tim knew they’d be late. Tracy was always late. They found a clean table and sat down. The Department Director was already at the podium speaking. “It is with great pleasure that I announce the Department of Corrections... Officer of the Year, Mr. Tim Buckman. Come on up Tim.”
Tim took a drink from the glass of water on the table, wiped his mouth and stood, then walked up to the podium. Tim shook the Director's hand and took the plaque from him. Tim looked at the plaque and then adjusted the microphone. “Umm...hmmm!” Tim cleared his throat and continued, “I guess I just want to say thank you. I work with a lot of great officers, so...getting this is a little overwhelming...I accept this, not only for myself, but for all those I work with...thanks.” Tim held up the plaque to a thunder of applause and then returned to his seat, stopping to shake a couple of hands along the way. His friends patted him on the back as he sat down, grinning from ear to ear.
Several correction officers in uniform sat in the all but empty room listening to the start of the shift briefing. Captain Hague, wearing his slightly yellowed white shirt stood at the front of the room talking. “That's all I've got today...just keep your eyes and ears open...it doesn't take but a minute for this gang stuff to get out of hand. Have a good one.” he said with his raspy voice that matched his burley appearance.
The Captain left. The officers stood and picked up their lunch boxes, talking and laughing as they left the room. Tim grabbed his lunch box and headed out the door. Officer Bradley, a rough looking character grabbed his lunch and caught up with Tim. “So, how does it feel to be super cop?”
Tim laughed. “Hell, the best part was the check they gave me.”
“No, shit? How much was it?”
“Two hundred, fifty bucks!”
“Cool.”
Tim made his rounds throughout the dorm. He was thankful it was a quiet night. Inmates were watching TV, playing cards and laying around. Tim went to his desk and sat down. He opened the desk drawer and looked through it. He pulled out a magazine and flipped through it. An inmate shouted, interrupting his thoughts. ey, C.O....C.O...”
Tim put the magazine down. “What?” he shouted in a irritated voice.
“We need some shit paper!”
Tim got up and unlocked a closet and pulled out three rolls of toilet paper. He went to the crash gate, unlocked it and tossed in the three rolls on to the floor. He closed the gate and locked it. He returned to his desk. Leaning back on the chair, he reached for a light switch and flipped it. “Lights out...good night!” he shouted.” Tim picked his magazine back up. Putting his feet up on the desk, he began to read.
All the inmates were asleep. The sound of snoring echoed around the room. The shadow of a person approached one inmate who was snoring with his mouth open. A hand bearing a Masonic ring reached down and inserted a plug into an outlet. Quickly and quietly the hand dropped something into the inmate’s open mouth. The inmate's body vibrated, with the only sound being a loud inhalation as he was shocked, and then his body was still. The hand pulled the device from the inmate's mouth, unplugged it, and then disappeared into the shadows. No one was disturbed.
Tim was at his desk, completing paperwork as the sun rose. Captain Hague paced as he waited for Tim to finish. “You didn't hear anything?”
Tim puts his pencil down. “No, sir. I made several rounds and didn't know anything happened until that inmate came to the gate and told me something was wrong. I tried to wake him and he didn't move...so I called control center.
Hague shook his head as he spoke, “It's probably some gang related thing.” Hague shuddered and continued, “Damn, what a way to go though!”
Tim handed the Captain the papers. He went to his locker, unlocked it and pulled out his lunch box. He walked back over to Hague. “You going home yet?”
“No, I've got to stay until the State Troopers leave. The first shift officer is down stairs. You go on and get out of here, it's been a long night.”
Tim left.
CONTINUED TOMORROW
I am easily distracted so I had to shake off the thoughts running through my mind and put an end to this trip down memory lane, I really needed to get focused back on the task at hand, unpacking. Making good progress, I take a minute to hang a picture of my family, a cute calendar and phone list on my institutional blue padded cubicle walls. I spend a lot of time here so it needs some personal touches. And then…..that shiny black phone rings!!! Whoa….what a sound! It’s a far cry from the tunes that ring from everyone’s cell phones all day. Ring…It’s loud and well, sort of abrasive, but gives me a warm feeling inside. That ring, that in years past connected us. No songs, just a ring. [B]Ring[/B]…..man, it used to be so cool to get a call from a family member in another state. Their voice was so loud and clear, just like they were there with you and I don’t remember ever dropping a call. Ring…I remember we had a party line and our calls were a double ring. There was a guy on the party line who used to always seem to need the phone when I got on it. He would threaten to tell my parents that I was on it too long. So, when I would hear his single ring, I would quietly pick up the phone and eavesdrop for a minute or two then shout something really obscene like, “You’re a mean man!” and then hang up loudly. Ring….ahh, that makes me smile just thinking about it. Ring…. Ring….
A voice echoing from somewhere in the warehouse interrupted my thoughts, “Answer the damn phone!”
Alright, alright, “Hello?” Hmm, too late, nothing but a dial tone….wow…that’s a nice sound too…it’s been so long since I’ve heard one of those…….
Commercial Break.....
Exceptional Trade Show Graphics With No Headaches
The last thing you need to worry about when prepping for a trade show
is
whether or not your trade show display graphics will attract attention. And when you order
from
ExhibitDEAL, you don't have to worry about it. You'll know their
in-house
designers are right there to offer their creativity and expertise and
help
create a >trade show display<
that
will give you that much-needed edge over the competition.
Blog post sponsored by www.bloggingads.com Get paid
to
blog.
FOOL OF THE WEEK
REP. MARK FOLEY
REP. MARK FOLEY
STORY BLOCK
TOP PERFORMER
by
Cathy Jourdan
The hotel looked glamorous at night. The parking lot was full as many people got out of their cars, dressed very nicely and headed for the front door of the hotel. Tim Buckman, a clean cut man in his thirties, gets out of his newer Lexus. He ran around to the passenger side and opened the door for his date, Tracy, a petite attractive young woman. Randy McKnight, a very striking black man in his forties exited the vehicle from the back seat and helped his wife Tenisia. Randy joined Tim, slapping him on the back as soon as he was within reach. “Are you ready...big man?”
Tim smiled at his friend as Tracy grabbed him and wrapped her arm through his. “Come on Mr. Correction Officer of the year...I hope they have good food.”
The four walked into the hotel and entered the elaborately decorated ballroom. The room was very large, but looked a bit messy because of dishes still sitting in front of guests. Tim knew they’d be late. Tracy was always late. They found a clean table and sat down. The Department Director was already at the podium speaking. “It is with great pleasure that I announce the Department of Corrections... Officer of the Year, Mr. Tim Buckman. Come on up Tim.”
Tim took a drink from the glass of water on the table, wiped his mouth and stood, then walked up to the podium. Tim shook the Director's hand and took the plaque from him. Tim looked at the plaque and then adjusted the microphone. “Umm...hmmm!” Tim cleared his throat and continued, “I guess I just want to say thank you. I work with a lot of great officers, so...getting this is a little overwhelming...I accept this, not only for myself, but for all those I work with...thanks.” Tim held up the plaque to a thunder of applause and then returned to his seat, stopping to shake a couple of hands along the way. His friends patted him on the back as he sat down, grinning from ear to ear.
Several correction officers in uniform sat in the all but empty room listening to the start of the shift briefing. Captain Hague, wearing his slightly yellowed white shirt stood at the front of the room talking. “That's all I've got today...just keep your eyes and ears open...it doesn't take but a minute for this gang stuff to get out of hand. Have a good one.” he said with his raspy voice that matched his burley appearance.
The Captain left. The officers stood and picked up their lunch boxes, talking and laughing as they left the room. Tim grabbed his lunch box and headed out the door. Officer Bradley, a rough looking character grabbed his lunch and caught up with Tim. “So, how does it feel to be super cop?”
Tim laughed. “Hell, the best part was the check they gave me.”
“No, shit? How much was it?”
“Two hundred, fifty bucks!”
“Cool.”
Tim made his rounds throughout the dorm. He was thankful it was a quiet night. Inmates were watching TV, playing cards and laying around. Tim went to his desk and sat down. He opened the desk drawer and looked through it. He pulled out a magazine and flipped through it. An inmate shouted, interrupting his thoughts. ey, C.O....C.O...”
Tim put the magazine down. “What?” he shouted in a irritated voice.
“We need some shit paper!”
Tim got up and unlocked a closet and pulled out three rolls of toilet paper. He went to the crash gate, unlocked it and tossed in the three rolls on to the floor. He closed the gate and locked it. He returned to his desk. Leaning back on the chair, he reached for a light switch and flipped it. “Lights out...good night!” he shouted.” Tim picked his magazine back up. Putting his feet up on the desk, he began to read.
All the inmates were asleep. The sound of snoring echoed around the room. The shadow of a person approached one inmate who was snoring with his mouth open. A hand bearing a Masonic ring reached down and inserted a plug into an outlet. Quickly and quietly the hand dropped something into the inmate’s open mouth. The inmate's body vibrated, with the only sound being a loud inhalation as he was shocked, and then his body was still. The hand pulled the device from the inmate's mouth, unplugged it, and then disappeared into the shadows. No one was disturbed.
Tim was at his desk, completing paperwork as the sun rose. Captain Hague paced as he waited for Tim to finish. “You didn't hear anything?”
Tim puts his pencil down. “No, sir. I made several rounds and didn't know anything happened until that inmate came to the gate and told me something was wrong. I tried to wake him and he didn't move...so I called control center.
Hague shook his head as he spoke, “It's probably some gang related thing.” Hague shuddered and continued, “Damn, what a way to go though!”
Tim handed the Captain the papers. He went to his locker, unlocked it and pulled out his lunch box. He walked back over to Hague. “You going home yet?”
“No, I've got to stay until the State Troopers leave. The first shift officer is down stairs. You go on and get out of here, it's been a long night.”
Tim left.
CONTINUED TOMORROW
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