I appreciate tackiness as much as the next guy, as long as it's done in good taste. By that I mean "tongue-in-cheek" tackiness or Elvis-tacky, the kind of tackiness that is so over-the-top that it's done as a joke. Give me pink flamingos, a velvet-Elvis or a gaudy beer sign any day. But don't give me fake deers. What happens when money and bad taste meet? You get what we've got - a family of faux deer in the neighbor's yard. The deer are just realistic enough to know that they intend this as an aesthetic improvement, but not so realistic that anybody who's had less than a 12-pack would not know they were fake. Plus they are 'artfully' arranged them, with a doe or buck (I don't wanna know) leading a pack of Bambi's. It's is truly trailer-park cute. They are the neighborhood Hezbollah's, art terrorists bent on leveling and degrading our living environment. Everyone on busy Roberts road is treated to their display. I wake up with night terrors, drenched in cold sweat, thinking what can I do? I ask myself 'what are the natural predators of artificial deer?' and it hits me - artificial deerhunters! The next day I order full-size plastic statues of a man and two sons, dressed in camoflauge and orange flapjackets, brandishing rifles pointed, you guessed it, at the neighbor deer. Hope they don't miss! ---------------------- Forwarded by on 4/20/1999 03:49:43 PM --------------------------- Sent by: Strategic Communication To: Nationwide employees and agents cc: Subject: Interfaces -- Making a difference by reflecting access You will receive interfaces periodically to provide you with examples of the brand in action. These success stories highlight the impact individual employees and agents can have on the Nationwide brand. They show how you can make a difference by reflecting access, customization, ease of use, and our overall vision of building lifetime customer relationships. If you would like to share your experiences, please send your stories to FEEDBACK via e-mail or to interfaces at 1-22-09, Columbus, Ohio. interfaces Making a difference by reflecting access Late in the evening of July 13, while agent Mark Smith was leaving his office, he noticed a fax that did not successfully transmit. After reviewing it, Mark realized the fax dealt with a very important matter, and his associate was attempting to send it to a wrong number. The fax was to a particular person in the regional office, and Mark did not have the correct fax number. He tried to find the correct number, but had no success. As a last resort, he attempted to contact the service center's toll-free number. Mark found out later that the person who answered the phone was an after-hours security officer. The security officer took the time to give Mark a number that shortened the amount of time needed to solve a problem and potentially saved an account. Mark's only regret was that he never got the security officer's name. The more Mark thought about it, not getting the security officer's name was very low on his list of regrets. After correcting his boneheaded coworker's fax snafu, he had xeroxed his ass and faxed a copy to the Insurance Commisioner with the scrawled inscription "Here's looking at you. Love, Dimon." Well, that career was down the toilet anyway. He arrived home to his dumpy little paint-peeling cape cod with 20 years left on the mortgage; the scruffy yard overrun with crabgrass, broken yard toys, and a noisy little flock of sniveling crumbcrushers, and surveyed his realm. King of this domain: this was the sum total of his life so far, and he became sullen and dead inside. His wife, a spent piece of used jet trash who made good bloody marys and kept her mouth shut most of the time, would meet him at the door and grouse about the latest mindnumbing household emergency or overdue bill. His car, now worth only a fraction of the balance on his lease, emitted fumes that gave him a low-grade headache and nausea as he tried to maintain his gladhanding salesguy facade on cold sales calls, trying to sell misleading and underperforming financial products to people who didn't want or need them, trying not to falter in a highwire balancing act that required him to meet monthly sales quotas while avoiding behaviors that triggered $100 million class-action lawsuits against his employer. The one lone bright spot in Mark's dismal, soul crushing existence was his receptionist, with whom he would retire to a hotel room or the back of her minivan three or four lunch hours a week and rip off a quickie, but even she was trying to hold him to the drunken and lusty promises he had muttered to her one night, and her ardor had cooled to the point that she wouldn't even wear that one gauzy blouse he'd bought her at Target using the last of his commission check. No, one of Mark's main regrets was not leaving work in time to stop by Uncle Sam's pawn shop before closing so he could buy that pearlhandled chrome plate 9-mm Ruger in time for his upcoming trip to home office...(dyer's). Mark ashed out a clove cigarette on his left pant-leg and gave a little yelp of pain when he discovered he'd chosen an extant hole in his pants. He was half-drunk after his secretary, whom he called his "little Margarite", left him in the throes, still tumescent. His promises had finally expired like curdled milk. But still he had reason to be hopeful; word had come from on high that he was going to be recognized bigtime for the time he followed up on an errant fax. He returned to the office and to his co-workers back-slapped him and gave him a couple bronx cheers. They said he had a surprise in his email. He checked his screen and he got some damn fool thing called "interfaces" which is what he thought he was going to have with his lil' Margarite. Boy, they loved those dual-purpose words don't they, he thought. Bi-sexual words that went both ways - could act as nouns or verbs - really got the big guys off. Must be some kind of subliminal appreciation that the word could do two jobs and thus cut out the salary of some poor schmuck single-usage word. He read the glowing account of his triumph, and looked in vain for some kind of financial reward. The lament went, "I saved some ass fax and all I got is a lousy thank you note." Yeah that'll pay that mortgage, you betcha. The crab grass'll have to stay...... But lest we leave Mark in this pitiful position, just 3 weeks later....: Mark is burying his beer huggie in the sand. He'd quit work and flew to an isle near the Tropic of Cancer and was looking for that lost shaker of salt. He called it a sabbatical, funny, work called it an involuntary retirement. Still he had not a care in the world, the dollar went far here (although the islanders were mostly still on the barter system). As a kid fascinated by maps, Mark lusted to touch the hemline of the Tropic of Cancer, figuring it was at wide black rubber line in the water with a series of buoys attached, like the kind that you find confining the swimming area of a lake.....but that's another story. ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- I have trouble imagining what the brainiacs who came up with the Faces brand were thinking. Here is one possible rationale: Ad Rep 1: What we want, like, you know, is something that will remind everybody of good ol' Nationwise Insurance everytime they see the brand. Ad Rep 2: That's Nationride dummy! Ad Rep 1: oh yeah. Ad Rep 2: well geez, here, let's see....what brand can we give Nationride that everybody'll associate with. Ad Rep1: (looks out the window ) I dunno. Hooters is having a special today - hotwings served by chicks in boa's. Wanna go? Ad Rep2: ah, YEah! (accent on first syllable of "yeah"). Hurry up and think of something first. Ad Rep 1: (still looking out the window, sees people going by). HEY! I just came up with something! What does everybody have? Ad Rep2: dunno dude. Ad Rep1: Faces!!! Ad Rep2: Cool man, yeah, everytime somebody sees somebody's face, they'll say 'hey i outta go buy some flippin' insurance!" Ad rep1: Exactly dude! Hooter-time! ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- ---------------------- Forwarded by on 4/28/1999 04:08:22 PM --------------------------- Sent by: Strategic Communication To: Nationwide employees and agents cc: Subject: $100 Billion Thanks From: D McFerson Congratulations on achieving a major enterprise goal well ahead of schedule! At the 1997 Nationwide Annual Meeting, we announced our objective to accumulate $100 billion in statutory assets by the Year 2000. Thanks to your hard work and dedication, we now have exceeded $100 billion in statutory assets. It took us 68 years to reach $50 billion in assets and only four years to more than double that amount. The relative value of $100 billion is hard to comprehend. To help put it into perspective: $100 billion would buy more than 40 billion boxes of Girl Scout cookies. $100 billion would buy a Jaguar XJ8 luxury car for every man, woman, and child in Nationwide's world headquarters of Greater Columbus, Ohio. $100 billion, in $1 bills laid end-to-end, would encircle the earth more than 1,500 times. While $100 billion is just a number, its importance as a milestone is in the customers it represents. We couldn't have reached $100 billion in assets without the millions of customers you have brought to Nationwide and serve so well. This is a wonderful accomplishment, reflecting the talent, tireless efforts, creativity, and commitment of all of you. We appreciate your hard work. We were able to achieve this important goal because of you. And we will continue to grow, reflecting the values of access, customization, and ease as a means to build lifetime relationships with customers. Thank you for your contribution to our growth. Managers: Please print and distribute this memo to employees who do not have access to electronic mail. DRM/mjl ---------------------- Forwarded by h/Nationwide/NWIE on 4/29/1999 09:06:38 AM --------------------------- Sent by: To: DLCR cc: Subject: $100 Billion Thanks (Yeah, right. SHOW ME THE MONEY!!!) Expect the Enterprise to be livened up soon by the new mandatory dress-down Friday uniform; especially since every man, woman, child, in-law, customer, neighbor, distant relative, acquaintance, and stranger ever seen by each person in the Enterprise world headquarters home town of Greater Columbus, Ohio (well.... it's alright, but I wouldn't exactly call it great) will soon be issued a white cotton Haines crew neck tee emblazoned with a silkscreened eagle and the caption "Somebody made a hundred billion big ones and all I got was this lousy t-shirt". (I'm going to have one printed up that says "I work for Stupid"). ---------------------- Forwarded by /ADM/NWIE on 4/28/1999 04:29:04 PM --------------------------- Sent by: To: DLCR cc: Subject: $100 Billion Thanks Do we get to vote on this? I'll take plan "B". It would be pretty cool to see nothing but Jags everywhere you went in Columbus. Of course it would be hard to find your own car in a large parking lot. I guess everyone would have to tie a flower or beanie baby or something on the antenna. Do we get to pick a color or will they just pass them out? Distribution could definitely be a problem. Of course the girl scouts will all pick option 1 since about half the cost of the cookies goes straight in thier little pockets, but I don't think they will get a substantial number of votes. I'm not sure they could even bake that many boxes of cookies let alone find people to eat them. Storage and shipping problems would be huge. Option 3 makes no sense to me. I'm not even sure it could be done. How would you fasten them down? Especially in the ocean. Plus people would probably grab them whenever no one was looking. The upside is that you could employ lot's of poor people to put the bills down. "Hands across America" couldn't be done, this would be even more difficult. I just don't see it. Plan "B" seems like the obvious way to go. I wonder how soon they will decide? Hilarity ensues. I knew you guys would jump all over Dimon's hanging change-up. In fact, is it my imagination or has our big Dick lightened up over the years? His note was awfully informal. Let's review: A) Dick changes his name to Dimon after he determines that no one can make fun of him now that he's CEO of a large company. B) Dimon sends us a tear-inducing note saying that his surgery went well. C) Dimon has a big company-wide meeting and takes questions ala Oprah. He feels our pain. D) Dimon, after a jigger of Jack, writes today's missive comparing $100 billion to a bunch of miscellaneous stuff, and struts his knowledge of fine automotives (which the masses who work for him can never hope to attain) by adding the descriptive entrails after the Jaguar, ala Jaguar XJ8. I think I will start calling my Cavalier, the Cavalier XJ8. Other things $100 Billion can buy: 100 Trillion "Mission Statements" 812 days off for each employee 7 toe-nail clippers per employee and a partridge in a pear tree....... ------------------------------------------------------- I liked the line saying "There will be an orderly transition". Apparently my hopes for a DLCR coup de' tat have been nipped in the bud. Imagine a squeaky-clean, Mormonized Al Haig and you have his equivalent at the helm here braying, "I am in charge here!". I know I will sleep better at night and work more efficiently by day knowing that there will be, in fact, an orderly transition in the awesome power to mint vision statements and cut ribbons. Some of the things Dimon left out: "Rick's intelligence is best displayed that he remained a systems analyst for only 2 years, and a customer service manager for 3. Rick knows a dead-end job when he sees one!" "On April 23rd, Rick will be led out of the building by donut-toting security officers. He will be frisked and a short but probing enema will ensue. This will prevent any company secrets, especially concerning our new branding initiative, from being smuggled out of the Enterprise." "Rick promises to come back to my office and visit every few years and we'll crack open a beer and fire up the executive grill for a little pig roast. We'll give each other the secret Nationwide handshake while reciting the Vision statement, we'll joke about our golf games and indulge in a little banter about how the company's doing....." ---------------------- Forwarded by Nationwide/NWIE on 4/1/1999 12:04:33 PM --------------------------- Sent by: Strategic Communication To: Nationwide employees and agents cc: Subject: Rick Crabtree From: Dimon R. McFerson With respect and admiration, I announce today that Richard D. Crabtree, president and COO of Nationwide Mutual Insurance Company, the parent company in the Nationwide Insurance Enterprise, has elected to resign after 34 years of exemplary service. His resignation is effective April 23. There will be an orderly transition, and a new leader will be named in the near future. Rick has been a wonderful president and we will miss his leadership. Since his election as president in 1996, the property/casualty company has undergone an unprecedented transformation. Rick and his team laid the foundation for the company's geographic expansion, sales through multiple distribution channels and the separation of manufacturing and distribution operations. With the addition of NICOA, ALLIED and CalFarm, the property/casualty company expanded its products and services, adding an independent agency force while continuing to support the significant growth of our exclusive agency force. Property/Casualty assets grew 15 percent during his years of service, and policies in force grew 24 percent. Rick's announcement comes as he has completed a significant restructuring of his organization, creating a strong leadership team, which he believes is ready to lead the company forward. Rick has long been a devoted community leader, working locally to support the many efforts of the Pontifical College of Josephinum. Time away from his responsibilities at Nationwide will enable him to focus on the religious faith that has been a source of support for him and his family. He hopes now to share that support with others. Rick joined Nationwide Insurance in August 1965 as an underwriter in its Canton, Ohio, office. He transferred to the home office in September 1969 as a systems analyst. He moved to Memphis in March 1971 as customer services manager and returned to Columbus in March 1974 as administration and controls manager of NGI. Rick was promoted in July 1975 to regional administration manager in Columbus. He also served as regional controller from July 1982 until June 1984, when he was promoted to director of line operations administration at the home office. Rick was elected vice president and named regional manager at Nationwide's Annapolis office in late 1985 and transferred to the Harrisburg, Pennsylvania, office in 1990. He returned to home office in 1993 when he was elected senior vice president of property-casualty operations. He also served on the Enterprise Management Council, Nationwide's senior leadership group. He was elevated to executive vice president in 1995. Rick is on the board of the Columbus Association for the Performing Arts, the United Way of Franklin County, the Pontifical College Josephinum and the Board of Social Compact. Rick and Margaret look forward to returning to Maryland, where their children have settled. Their sons, Michael and John, live in the Baltimore area. Please join me in wishing Rick and Margaret all the best. DRM/mjl ----------------------------------------------------- BEHOLD her, single in the field, Yon solitary Highland Lass! Reaping and singing by herself; Stop here, or gently pass! Alone she cuts and binds the grain, And sings a melancholy strain; O listen! for the Vale profound Is overflowing with the sound. No Nightingale did ever chaunt More welcome notes to weary bands Of travellers in some shady haunt, Among Arabian sands: A voice so thrilling ne'er was heard In spring-time from the Cuckoo-bird, Breaking the silence of the seas Among the farthest Hebrides. Will no one tell me what she sings?-- Perhaps the plaintive numbers flow For old, unhappy, far-off things, And battles long ago: Or is it some more humble lay, Familiar matter of to-day? Some natural sorrow, loss, or pain, That has been, and may be again? Whate'er the theme, the Maiden sang As if her song could have no ending; I saw her singing at her work, And o'er the sickle bending;-- I listened, motionless and still; And, as I mounted up the hill The music in my heart I bore, Long after it was heard no more. ------------------------------------------------ I look over the blue mountains of Stonewall-land and marvel in the day. Working in reverse chrono order, I visited Stonewall's (Thomas J. Jackson - "TJJ") grave. I had such a different idea of who Stonewall was before I read a biography. I just figured he was just some dumb hilljack who breathed fire and created major pain for the Union army. Well, the last part was true, but he was a smart, disciplined person who graduated 18th at elite West Point Academy. He cherished education, became a Math and Science teacher at VMI and was a religious fanatic, which in those times was hard to be. He is sort of a Protestant saint, in the unshakeable faith he had despite hardships he endured (lost his mother when he was 7, lost his first wife, lost a child, etc....). So I visited the cemetery and thought oh how many are dead. Something like 90% of people who have ever lived are now dead, how precious life is! We are like professional athletes and the dead sit on the sidelines while we few go thru the motions on the playing field. And so I then stood beside his first wife's grave, whose death wracked him severely and sent him into deep grief for more than a year. He often stood just where I stood and lamented that though he knew she were not here, yet this was as close as he could be. Her grave says, "God grants his beloved sleep". Then I moved to the great 20 foot high statue & monument, and stood just a few feet away (plus 6 feet) from TJJ's earthly remains. Funny how democratic the dead are. They are always available, they are not a moving target, and they are typically alone, but woefully unanimated. No scheduled appointment necessary, nor do you need even to live in the same century.....(am I beating this dead horse?). The 800-page biography of Stonewall I read could be easily summarized as the quintessential anti-Clinton. You can predict every action and reaction by figuring out what Clinton would do and do the opposite. They share only charisma, one gained thru words the other thru action. I then saw TJJ's neighbors' grave. As if to beg notice it was a huge 8-by-8 stone crypt of some sort. I noticed it had a rusty iron door and I came closer and saw a small iron flap about eye level, as if to view inside. I opened the iron flap and looked in uttter darkness thru the grate but before my eyes could adjust there was a some sort of maggot crawling out the grate, inches from my face! I closed that sucker quicker than a hand....and high-tailed it out of there! I visited VMI (Virginia Military Institute) and stole into the Engineering building as a cadet was leaving. I was hungry and had to go the bathroom, and I killed two birds because there in the entrance hall were full cans of pop and plenty of home-made brownies! I stuffed four in my mouth and hurried out with cans of pop "hid" in my socks. VMI is truly an amazing place - it's like a huge Alamo on a mountain plain. Over the main entrance carved in stone is the name "Stonewall Jackson". The words just inside (along an archway) read: "You can be whatever you resolve to be", which is Jackson's famous quote. The four cannons he used to train military cadets were displayed just outside the arch., on the main parade ground. He called them each by a name - "Matthew, Mark, Luke and John". The day had a purity about it that was remarkable. The sun was continuous and had the clarity of a diamond. I walked around the campus and visited Jackson Memorial Hall (named for, you guessed it). It would soon host an ROTC award ceremony, and I was half of a mind to crash it, (pop-cans in tube socks and all). I watched as a couple hundred sharp-dressed Cadets made their way to the Hall. They were lean and in full uniform, and each removed his/her hat as the entered the doorway. They sometimes merged with a superior officer, and would salute peripheally. Washington & Lee University was right next door and was impressive too. And so gaudy! No where are there more white columns per capita, except maybe ancient Greece or Rome. The main campus is a combination of an Elysian field with a row of red-bricked temples on one side and the holy of holies on the other - Lee's Chapel. Behind the pulpit of this chapel is a rotunda with a full-size statue of a recumbent Lee in white marble, as in lying-in-state. He was shown sleeping during the War (I assume a battle wasn't going on). Lee in some ways was the modern man, and in this case the opposite of the stern Jackson. Lee made the chapel non-denominational (although now it may be a chapel to Confederate worship), and Lee leinently decided compulsory daily chapel was too much. Lee went every day, however, and his pew is duly marked. I sat there (front left) just as I sat in Stonewalls (back, left). One level below the chapel, Lee's office was left just as it was in 1870 (when he was President of the University), the day he died of a stroke. Everything he had on his desk and table were printed on a posted sheet of paper. This seemed a little unfair - what if he'd had an 1870 version of Playboy stashed there? Ha. No, he had a book on the history of the Indians, a book on St. Louis, a Bible, a newspaper, dossiers on prospective freshman students, and several religious publications. How many college presidents today would have bibles and religious tracts on their desks? How many go to daily service? ---------------------------------------------------- Here is Bill James' (of Baseball Abstract fame) top 10: 1) Babe Ruth 2) Honus Wagner 3) Lefty Grove 4) Stan Musial 5) Hank Aaron 6) Ty Cobb 7) Lou Gehrig 8) Willie Mays 9) Ted WIlliams 10) Warren Spahn. Morgan was 22, Bench 28, Walter Johnson 12 I think Bill is smoking some Kansas weed. I liked Sporting News picks a lot better, in general. How in the heck can Mays sit 8th!!?? ---------------------------------------------------- do think baseball last year was a big joke. Sammy Sosa hitting 66 homeruns? PUh-lease. The ball has been jackrabbitted to create fan interest. McGwire's record should have an asterisk on it if anybody's does. All this crap about "the best year in baseball history" and the self-same self-promotion coming out of the league offices makes me wanna puke. Baseball is slowly but surely becoming WWF-ized.... -pitts off. ---------------------------------------------------- I received a note today inviting me to share my reminiscies of John Fisher. I w as his cabana boy for many years after I fished him out of the Golf of Tonkin, a minature golf theme park with some wicked whirlpools. He was eternally, wel l that's assuming he still is so I don't know, grateful and his meteoric rise a t the 'Wide enabled me to double my salary from 18,000 a year to 36,000 in just 19 years helped in no small part by his applying pressure to my management. Often I would walk out of my manager's office holding a slip of paper on which a 3% raise was written & that was after just 12 months! I know it was John wh o helped me, though he generally ignored me and gave no outward evidence of his gratitude. He was so important that I shrugged it off that it would hurt his career to be seen hob-nobbing with me. John and I go back many years to his da ys as a small-time actor portraying Maine on Broadway's "Remember the Maine". I was in an unrelated production, doing bit parts, making tables to wait ends m eet and versa-vicea. As luck would have it, he fell ill and I was asked to rep lace him. Having neither his impressive physical stature nor deep bass voice,ma ny in the audience felt cheated and threw hard objects on stage. (I'd grown use to comely women tossing 'articles e' delicat' so this was quite a change). Jo hn felt sorry for me and some days after the performance invited me to the newl y opened Golf of Tonkin Bay theme park. He mis-read the felt of a "green" and t he ball headed inexorably towards the mouth of large obtuse water moccasin. Jo hn rushed towards the moccasin to try to prevent the ball from getting there, b ut he slipped and was almost swallowed up in the rushing water beneath the crea ture's plastic teeth. I pulled him out by his boots and the rest, as we say, i s history. ----------------------------------------------------- DOG HAIKU I love my master; Thus I perfume myself with This long-rotten squirrel. I lie belly-up In the sunshine, happier than You ever will be. Today I sniffed Many dog fannies; I celebrate By kissing your face. I sound the alarm! Paperboy--come to kill us all-- Look! Look! Look! Look! Look! I sound the alarm! Mailman Fiend--come to kill us all-- Look! Look! Look! Look! Look! I sound the alarm! Meter reader--come to kill us all-- Look! Look! Look! Look! Look! I sound the alarm! Garbage man--come to kill us all-- Look! Look! Look! Look! Look! I sound the alarm! Neighbor's cat--come to kill us all! Look! Look! Look! Look! Look! I lift my leg and Whiz on each bush. Hello, Spot-- Sniff this and weep. How do I love thee? The ways are numberless as My hairs on the rug. My human is home! I am so ecstatic I have Made a puddle. I hate my choke chain. Look, world, they strangle me! Ack Ack Ack Ack Ack Ack! Sleeping here, my chin On your foot, no greater bliss--well, Maybe catching rats. Look in my eyes and Deny it. No human could Love you as much I do. The cat is not all Bad; she fills the litter box With Tootsie Rolls. Dig under fence--why? Because it's there. Because it's There. Because it's there. I am your best friend, Now, always, and especially When you are eating. You may call them fleas, But they are far more; I call Them a vocation. ------------------------------------------------- Look at the front page of OLI today, and notice the circa 1950's photo of a proud dad helping his eager son with his homework. Now look closely, and see that the son is none other than the king of corporate buzz phrase spewage himself, our own Wayne Osselborn. Click now on the accompanying link, and gasp in awe at the following quote: "We have deliverables due early in the life cycle of a project, therefore as the project is being planned we’re brought ‘into the loop’ at that time," said Wayne Osselborn, Director, Testing, Training & Documentation. "In the past, Testing was typically informed of our roles and esponsibilities in the later stages, which made our job more difficult. Our methodology with project life cycles has built-in systems estimating elements for support services such as ours." "For example, say a project/charter is initiated using the methodology. In the life cycle design window, a deliverable, the Testing Design Report, must be planned for. The person putting together the life cycle needs to contact Testing, Training and Documentation, and other affected units in Application Planning at that time." Gone are the tired old "paperless environment", "drilldown", "ramp up the synergy", and "timebox", but the old master surely has not lost his touch. The king reigns! Since the mid 1950's even! Long live the king! ---------------------------------------------------- hilarity ensues. enjoyed that one Dute. mo' questions (aka 'beatin' the horse into glue'): - If the moon is made of green cheese why does it appear white? - If Clinton worked at the local BP station, would he be having so many flute-players in his orchestra? - Is the idea of a merciful God consistent with the existence of Pauly Shore? - Is 'disturbed loners club' an oxymoron? - What if you called Audix and they didn't answer the phone? *** Reply to note of 03/20/98 13:11 Subject: Re: Route Slip For '"Ask Me!"' I am formulating a list of questions to ask of people wearing one of those pins: What year did Vandermeer pitch back to back no-hitters? What is the average annual rainfall in the Amazon basin? If you write the word "monkey" a million times, do you start to think you're Shakespeare? If God dropped acid, would he think he saw people? If Barbie is so popular, why do you have to buy her friends too? How do you tell if you've run out of invisible ink? Is a metaphor like a simile? If space and time are the same thing, is that why Einstein kept showing up three miles late for his meetings? ??? cc: Subject: Re: Route Slip For '"Ask Me!"' I plan on marking "DON'T" before the "ASK ME". Or maybe make a new pin saying, "We had an employee meeting and all I got was a lousy pin". Subject: Re: Route Slip For '"Ask Me!"' For those of you who don't feel prepared for this campaign, we will be distributing " I DON'T HAVE A CLUE" buttons. ---------------------------------------------------- o: Usual Suspects Subject: paddy's Only 16 shopping days till st paddy's day so i'll quote an olde irish hymn: ...gathered for the wake of Finnegan...leaves a corpse so pink it's true... Broke out the whiskey and drink to him ...but in a fight we got into.... Then at the coffin whiskey flew, whiskey splashin' Finnegan, now look see how he's risin'! Finnegan's risin' from the bed, "London, Jay-sus did you think I wuz dead?" ---------------------------------------------------- To: Usual Suspects Subject: Need Advice Ahh . you'll want to interoffice mail it to me immediately if not sooner. I will shepherd it properly. Should you decide not to take the above course, then I recommend a fine Napolean brandy, vintage 1970ish, sipped from a crystaline tumbler. You'll be hidden away in a private alcove of the university library at OSU, among the long forgotten stacks (I find the 19th century British poets exceptional ly private), with a nubiliean cream of wheat fraulein, a syncophat of properly reprobate proportions, where you will engage in acts not requiring your mouth. *** Forwarding note from --LNOTES1 02/24/98 11:09 *** From: Subject: Need Advice I need some advice on a matter of hedonistic pleasure, so naturally I am turning to the worldly and sophisticated members of the DLCR. I have come into the possession of a rare and much sought after item. How this came about cannot be revealed except to say that it involved international intrigue, betrayal, sloe-eyed women with dusky skin and low morals, a fat man in a white suit, an airplane landing briefly on a country road at midnight, a handful of large bills - American, and cold blue steel. I have in front of me even as I write this a cigar from Havana, Cuba. This may be the only Cuban cigar that I smoke in this lifetime. It must be experienced and enjoyed to the fullest. That is why I am turning to you for advice. If you had an hour with Cindy Crawford naked you would not choose to spend it in the back seat of a '58 Rambler. I have the opportunity to smoke a fine cigar and want to make the most of the experience. The questions is, where and when should I smoke it? What should my surroundings be? What should I be drinking, eating, watching, to fully experience this pleasure? Should it be a solitary experience ? Or should I share the smoke while tipping a pint in some seedy bistro? Please give me your advice. What would you do if you had a Cuban? ---------------------------------------------------- cc: DLCR Subject: Desperate times call for desperate measures Funeral homes or cemeteries usually have good selections of pre-owned flowers in their hoppers--stop on your way home. Be very careful to remove any tag or ribbon with the word "sympathy" or "loss", or the jig will be up before it starts. Sloppy Joes and chips, while they may elevate me to hero status among my offspring, are not considered romantic fare. Stick with recipes that require at least one specialized utensil (i.e. broccoli press, crab channel locks, bread machine, etc.). Avoid packaged food with the words "helper" or "macaroni and cheese" in the name. Does she want cheese and crackers with that whine? When picking out the wine, picture a snotty waiter muttering "perhaps sir would like to sniff the bottlecap". Go the extra couple bucks for wine with a cork stopper. Better get one of each color, unless you hit the frozen food aisle first and know what the main course is. Also, unless you have a special attachment for your Black & Decker cordless drill, I understand there is actually some sort of device used for removing these cork stoppers, although I have never had occasion to buy or use one. Sympathetic female coworkers or SNAGs (Sensitive New Age Guys) can provide the inside skinny on chick flicks (the latest effort from Tarantino or Jackie Chan will not be appropriate in this situation. Better stick with Steel Magnolias or something of an equally tearjerking ilk). If a condom is required, don't use the ones you special ordered from that magazine (you know, the one with dogeared pages in the false bottom of your laundry hamper, you pervert...), that you purchased on the basis of the testimonials in the add ("...like thousands of tiny chainsaws, urging a woman to let go..."). Brand new ones have the least chance of surprising you several months hence when you begin arguing that "Oops" is a perfectly normal middle name for a boy OR a girl. This is where it gets tricky. Because no matter how good your intentions, you will fall short. I'm referring of course to The Gift. Whether it is something whimsical like that CD or power tool attachment you've had your eye on, or something practical that is sure to get a lot of good use like that slutty little spaghetti-strapped backless (and crotchless) crowdpleaser with velcro tear-away tabs, or that special little something that is both edible and intended for orifices other than the mouth, there are very high odds that you will fall dismally short and the evening will come screeching to a halt: ("when I compared you to Trigger I meant his BREATH!" "Oh yeah? Your tits hang like spanish moss!" Tears, slamming doors, airborn specialized single-use kitchen utensils, lots of running mascara and at least two police cruisers, you all know the drill....uh, don't you?) On second thought, better go out with the guys for "one drink" and then MAYBE call her (collect) from Pittsburgh after closing time....on St. Patty's day. Hope this helps! ---------------------- Forwarded by/NWIE on 2/13/1998 12:23:32 PM --------------------------- 2/13/1998 02:52:53 PM Sent by: To: DLCR cc: Subject: Desperate times call for desperate measures Loners, I come seeking advice. As you all know, that most dreaded of holidays, Valentines, lies before us(like a big shit sandwich waiting for all men to take a healthy bite). Some days back I mentioned to my girlfriend my disdain for these cushy holidays....a real holiday I said celebrates someone's brutal death or political upheaval, rebellion, anarchy, and bloody war. So when I asked her last week what she wanted to do for Valentines she replied nothing. Being slightly above a moron in intelligence I understand her answer....nothing means something spectacular and romantic. Oddly enough our plans for this evening fell through, and she suggested we stay in at her place and have a nice dinner, rent a movie, blah blah blah. She works til 7:30, so she asked me, to go to her place and start dinner around 6:30, this is nothing out of the norm. So far everything seemed cool, then she asked me to set the table for a change, and get out her candles for dinner. Then it hit me like a Randy Johnson inside fast ball....she's wants to be romanticized. We've been dating for a year now, and much of our relationship has been delegated to routines. Routines I cherish and love. Routines she despises. I think she wants to be "swept off her feet again", romanced, suprised. Now I ask you what am I to do? Any and all suggestions are welcome(minus group sex, I already ran that by her...bad idea). -------------------------------------------------- To: Usual Suspects Subject: Wide slogans The theme of our meeting was: "Working Together, Winning Together" This is the pluperfect corporate syllogism. It meets all the criteria of a perfect business platitude: 1) Symmetrical. Management imagines peons have small brains. Best to keep the statement of the "bing bang, bang bing" variety. 2) Meaningless - nothing specific. If you can change the order of the words and lose none of the "meaning" you have a possible corporate slogan. 3) Must have one of the five following words in the slogan: "teamwork", "winning", "together", "working". This hits the jackpot. 4) Verbs are king. Management loves verbs; they imply action and action is good. Useful action is better, but useless action will do in a pinch. ---------------------------------------------------- To: DLCR Subject: Wide slogans As a test, I pulled out the latest slogan propaganda I received, the "IIS Six Principles": 1. Implement Systems 2. Anticipate Solutions 3. Achieve Premier Employer Status 4. Take Risks, Take Charge 5. Establish Best Practices 6. Manage Assets Well, let's check "Tom's Criteria for a Perfect Business Platitude" list... 1) Symmetrical. Management imagines peons have small brains. Best to keep the statement of the "bing bang, bang bing" variety. Number 4 did an excellent job ... the rest were definately lacking! Although, the combination of 1 and 2 may fit the bill. Rating: Below 2) Meaningless - nothing specific. If you can change the order of the words and lose none of the "meaning" you have a possible corporate slogan. While none of them gave any clue how to attain their goal, they were more direct than usual, so we'll have to take a few points away. Rating: Below 3) Must have one of the five following words in the slogan: "teamwork", "winning", "together", "working". This hits the jackpot. Horrible!!! None of the necessary key words were present. Rating: Well Below 4) Verbs are king. Management loves verbs; they imply action and action is good. Useful action is better, but useless action will do in a pinch. Bingo!!! Jackpot!!! Verbs galore ... verbs for everyone! Get yours while it's hot!!! We had 7 verbs out of 17 total words ... management batted over .400 with these phrases. Wonderful. All-star. Rating: Well Above I guess, overall, I'd have to rate the IIS Six Principles as a "below" for being an acceptable business platitude. Much room for improvement for next year! No wonder none of us can recite them without checking our notes. :-) ---------------------- Forwarded by /ADM/NWIE on 2/12/1998 04:28:51 PM --------------------------- cc: Subject: Wide slogans The theme of our meeting was: "Working Together, Winning Together" This is the pluperfect corporate syllogism. It meets all the criteria of a perfect business platitude: 1) Symmetrical. Management imagines peons have small brains. Best to keep the statement of the "bing bang, bang bing" variety. 2) Meaningless - nothing specific. If you can change the order of the words and lose none of the "meaning" you have a possible corporate slogan. 3) Must have one of the five following words in the slogan: "teamwork", "winning", "together", "working". This hits the jackpot. 4) Verbs are king. Management loves verbs; they imply action and action is good. Useful action is better, but useless action will do in a pinch. ----------------------------------------------- To: Usual Suspects Subject: Re: By the way, not to put too fine a point on it, but the New York Times had a hug e article on the fact that guys are no longer the heroes in movies. The white m ale is the buffoon, the racist, the violent and the female is the doer of good, the one who comes to the rescue now (often even physically)....the Doritoes co mmercial plays into that bigtime. she's seen as all-powerful & the males as jok es. but who cares her body was par excellance. Subject: Re: My thoughts exactly!!! I thought the Tabasco ad was best, with the Doritos commercial a very close 2nd ... unless my wife is reading this, in which case I thought it was utterly tasteless and crude ... uh, yeah. Somehow I missed the Nike/water commercial though. However, am I the only one who has noticed that beer companies aren't cranking out commercials with scantily clad women much any more?!? What gives?!? cc: Subject: Monday morning, time to start recapping the Superbowl. Budwieser made a strong showing with the electrocuted frogs, however it was a little too predictable and peaked too early in the ad series. The Nike sports apparel spot (bodies and water) gets top honors for artistic merit and photography. I liked the Pepsi mosquito/Mick Jagger ad but I am not sure it has staying power. I think it would wear thin after a number of viewings. For pure appeal to basic male appetites the chip add (I believe it was Dorito's) gets the "Best female body in a 30 second spot award". My wife was next to me on the couch and it took some real concentration to act bored and keep my respiration rate down while this ad was on. My favorite was the Tabasco sauce exploding mosquito bit. It was simple and to the point. The acting was good, slightly underplayed yet convincing. . It had the timing of a well told joke with a good lead up and the punchline explosion after a perfect dramatic pause. Good job Tabasco! *************************************************** Did anyone else see that fawning, "affix lips to butt and smooch" piece on Dick McFerson in today's Dispatch? Here's an excerpt: "The graceful lines of McFerson Arena serve as a fitting backdrop for Dick's press conference Tuesday. He delighted the assembled journalists by walking on a pool of water without sinking. He then pointed past the arena to a nascent moon and said, 'look what I hung!'. Dick's list of accomplishments during his tenure are as long as a Dicken's novel, but more uplifting. When one of the journalists complained of hunger due to the length of his speech, Dick asked for a package of Saltine Crackers and miraculously everyone was soon munching. Sadly, Dick is 62 and the Nationwide Enterprise requires executives to retire at 65. 'I suppose I will fade off into the sunset - but you know what they say, old CEO's never die they just enjoy their $4.5 million balloon payment and golden parachute, their complimentary prostitutes and supply of Napolean brandy, their secret use of the corporate jet, and the studied insouciance that only the very rich can bring off.' The only awkward moment was when Mr. McFerson asked journalists to form a queue to bow and kiss his Nationwide Skull&Crossbones ring, which some were loath to do."
