I used to work in the local division of a national homebuilder here in Sarasota. Just like everybody else. It's been a over a year since that division was closed at the end of 2008.
Amazingly, most of us have kept in touch one way or another--by phone, email, happy hours, etc. Several of us still living locally got together again last night at the Ale House and reminisced about what many of us consider was the best job we've ever had. In truth, it wasn't the job-- it was, instead, the best bunch of people we've ever worked with that made the job what it was.
Throughout our tenure with the company, we all struggled through our fair share of tribulations, the failing economy, downsizings, managerial changes, key resignations and more. Maybe our bond was forged by adversity.
But we also shared the good times of growth, of learning to do our jobs better, of becoming more professional, of getting to know each other. And to keep each other upbeat and smiling through the tough times. Laughter remains one of the hallmarks of this group.
Last night, we shared news about new jobs and about our families. We remembered those who weren't there last night, how much we missed them and how much we learned from them.
It's not like we were together forever in order to form this bond. The company's local history only dates back to 1999 and most of us were there for less than five years. Since the closure of the division, we have moved on to other jobs, to retirement, some have even relocated to other cities and states, but they are still part of us.
We are an eclectic bunch; some younger, some older, some male, some female, some office workers, some sales, some construction guys. Different backgrounds, different politics, different ethnicities, different lifestyles, different pay scales. So, what's the glue that keeps this gumbo of people together?
I heard it a couple times last night expressed as, "I love you guys," or "I really miss you guys." And, no, they were sober when they said it. We respect each other, we look out for each other, we genuinely care about each other and we enjoy each other's company. It wasn't a reunion as much as it was just a celebration of being together again, if even for a few short hours.
Some of us are doing fabulously in new jobs, some are doing OK and some are struggling. Even the ones who are doing the best confessed that it's not the same without the camaraderie of their friends.
Our joy was tempered by the news that two of our number had lost their jobs that same afternoon and we wished that they had been there last night to accept our comfort and our encouragement in person.
I remember having to sit through one of those interminable HR Power-Point 'webinars' while still in the employ of the company. The disconnected voice of authority coming through the speakerphone audibly chortled at the concept that employees consider themselves 'family.' The dumbest thing he's ever heard.
"A company's employees are bound together only by a paycheck. When the paycheck goes away, so does the 'family.' And he had a Power-Point slide that said so.
He obviously had never met us. And, if he knows what's good for him, he won't.
See you guys next time. I love you, too.
Saturday, February 28, 2009
Friday, February 27, 2009
Lennar Backs Down, Agrees To Total Home Restoration
Lennar Homes, in an effort to reduce additional negative publicity regarding what affected homeowners consider to be a half-hearted effort to mitigate the myriad problems stemming from the presence of Chinese drywall in their homes, have now agreed to totally renovate customers' homes.
Homeowners had complained that just replacing the drywall would not be enough to resolve the problems with corroding wiring, failing AC units and illness caused by the tainted sheetrock.
At a news conference today, Lennar Homes demonstrated its more customer-responsive approach in dealing with this sensitive issue by having a crack team of renovation experts begin the remediation process at a home in Heritage Harbour:
Homeowners had complained that just replacing the drywall would not be enough to resolve the problems with corroding wiring, failing AC units and illness caused by the tainted sheetrock.
At a news conference today, Lennar Homes demonstrated its more customer-responsive approach in dealing with this sensitive issue by having a crack team of renovation experts begin the remediation process at a home in Heritage Harbour:
$13.06 Does Not Buy A Good Pizza--Or A Good Hitman
Just when you thought that the endless news stories about Nick Bollea's car wreck and the rest of the Hogan family's train wreck of a life finally had come to a end, now this hits the fan. They're baaaaaack!
I'm always amazed how often you hear about people trying to hire undercover cops to kill somebody. Real killers for hire need to get better organized. A toll-free 800 telephone number, maybe. Or a website. Maybe they should just kill their agents and start over. I'll bet sports agent Scott Boras would do one helluva job for a hitman and get him top dollar, too.
Apparently, the honeymoon between Graziano and the missus has been over for a while, like, since 2004 when Mrs. G filed her first domestic violence injunction. By August, 2007, the number of injunctions she filed reached 4. I don't know how many protection from abuse orders or divorce proceedings have to be filed before you get the picture, but it must be more than 4.
Later that same August, son John was riding with Nick Bollea/Hogan when he piled it up and John was left pretty much a vegetable. Hold everything! With cameras rolling, the loving husband and father declared, "My wife is the best mother there is in the world." Maybe so, but when the cameras were turned off, he still wanted the bitch dead, "best mother in the world" or not.
Now riding on the coattails of a celebrity like Hulk Hogan because your son hung around with his son was probably pretty cool for the Grazianos. But when your son gets almost killed and starts wracking up enormous medical bills, that's when you see the celebrity less as a buddy and more of a cash cow and start filing lawsuits.
Don't get me wrong, they all seem pretty much like trailer trash to me. Like the missus said this morning, "you can have money and still be trailer trash." Amen to that, sister. And having the money and their 15 minutes in the spotlight makes them just that much more interesting, too.
Proving that trailer trash can dish out a heapin' helpin' of irony, Graziano wanted the hit on his wife to be in a car crash. Nice touch there, Mr. G. Instead of trying to find a hit man, you should have just asked Nick to take her for a spin through Clearwater.
Over the course of a dozen meetings in the span of a few months, the details were finally negotiated to the satisfaction of both parties. Never let it be said that Eddie Graziano doesn't drive a hard bargain. Most guys would just want this to happen and move on, instead of trying to nickel and dime a killer. Hey, Eddie, HE'S A KILLER--what are you gonna do, try to cheat the guy out of a couple bucks?
The going rate to knock off a semi-high profile target in Southwest Florida: $1,100 in cash, a personal check for $1,000 and a gift card to Westshore Pizza for $13.06. Blame it on the economy. Hitmen have to eat too, you know.
And what kind of a pizza are you gonna get for a lousy $13.06? The lunch special?
Oh, I didn't know...............
Westshore Pizza Introduces its new "Eddie G" $13.06 Special
A very personal-size pizza, just like Momma used to make on Fridays, when Dad came home drunk after blowing his whole paycheck playing cards and started smacking her around. First, we take the dough and throw it against the wall, then knead it like we're choking that no-good bastard. Add some cheese and whatever we sweep up off the floor, put it in the oven and serve it up on paper plates. Our customers tell us it's "the pie to die for!"
I'm always amazed how often you hear about people trying to hire undercover cops to kill somebody. Real killers for hire need to get better organized. A toll-free 800 telephone number, maybe. Or a website. Maybe they should just kill their agents and start over. I'll bet sports agent Scott Boras would do one helluva job for a hitman and get him top dollar, too.
Apparently, the honeymoon between Graziano and the missus has been over for a while, like, since 2004 when Mrs. G filed her first domestic violence injunction. By August, 2007, the number of injunctions she filed reached 4. I don't know how many protection from abuse orders or divorce proceedings have to be filed before you get the picture, but it must be more than 4.
Later that same August, son John was riding with Nick Bollea/Hogan when he piled it up and John was left pretty much a vegetable. Hold everything! With cameras rolling, the loving husband and father declared, "My wife is the best mother there is in the world." Maybe so, but when the cameras were turned off, he still wanted the bitch dead, "best mother in the world" or not.
Now riding on the coattails of a celebrity like Hulk Hogan because your son hung around with his son was probably pretty cool for the Grazianos. But when your son gets almost killed and starts wracking up enormous medical bills, that's when you see the celebrity less as a buddy and more of a cash cow and start filing lawsuits.
Don't get me wrong, they all seem pretty much like trailer trash to me. Like the missus said this morning, "you can have money and still be trailer trash." Amen to that, sister. And having the money and their 15 minutes in the spotlight makes them just that much more interesting, too.
Proving that trailer trash can dish out a heapin' helpin' of irony, Graziano wanted the hit on his wife to be in a car crash. Nice touch there, Mr. G. Instead of trying to find a hit man, you should have just asked Nick to take her for a spin through Clearwater.
Over the course of a dozen meetings in the span of a few months, the details were finally negotiated to the satisfaction of both parties. Never let it be said that Eddie Graziano doesn't drive a hard bargain. Most guys would just want this to happen and move on, instead of trying to nickel and dime a killer. Hey, Eddie, HE'S A KILLER--what are you gonna do, try to cheat the guy out of a couple bucks?
The going rate to knock off a semi-high profile target in Southwest Florida: $1,100 in cash, a personal check for $1,000 and a gift card to Westshore Pizza for $13.06. Blame it on the economy. Hitmen have to eat too, you know.
And what kind of a pizza are you gonna get for a lousy $13.06? The lunch special?
Oh, I didn't know...............
Westshore Pizza Introduces its new "Eddie G" $13.06 Special
A very personal-size pizza, just like Momma used to make on Fridays, when Dad came home drunk after blowing his whole paycheck playing cards and started smacking her around. First, we take the dough and throw it against the wall, then knead it like we're choking that no-good bastard. Add some cheese and whatever we sweep up off the floor, put it in the oven and serve it up on paper plates. Our customers tell us it's "the pie to die for!"
Thursday, February 26, 2009
Diocese of Venice Agrees With New Papal Finding: Men And Women Are Different
MSN referenced this survey in an article about the differing ways that men and women rate their vices, as reported by the Roman Catholic Church. Which is a lot like a bank that just squandered billions of stockholder money complaining that men prefer to steal blue pens while women steal red ones.
Catholics are supposed to confess their sins once a year to a priest, who then says "Okie-dokie, you're good to go. See you next year." I call that a good deal. I wonder if they have drive-through confessions? Or email? Could you just leave a message on his answering machine?
Women's top 3 sins in the confessional:
The survey found that about a third of Catholics no longer thought confession was relevant. Does that mean they think they're perfect or does that mean they think that anything short of a felony doesn't count as a sin?
Pope Benedict XVI (that's his last name: 'XVI') says, "If people do not confess regularly, they risk slowing their spiritual rhythm." Which is, I assume, what they mean by good Catholics using only the 'rhythm method' or abstinence. Abstinence, I assume, means you didn't show up for work that day. So, I assume, if you have good rhythm and don't go to work, you will go to heaven.
In 2008, the Apostolic Penitentiary came up with an updated list of modern sins, such as polluting the environment (I'm talking to you, Hummer drivers), taking or selling illegal drugs (Heaven obviously does not have a baseball team), causing poverty and financial greed, which pretty much rules out Congress and all banks. Just released, the newest sin for 2009 is typing your emails in ALL CAPITALS.
I wonder if Bernie Madoff, Art Nadel and Richard Stanford are considered sinners for their schemes or angels of God for helping to save all their investors from the sin of excessive wealth?
The survey was conducted by Fr Roberto Busa, a 95-year-old Jesuit scholar, who probably figures that being under 80-years old should be a sin in itself.
Father Busa conducts his painstaking research
Catholics are supposed to confess their sins once a year to a priest, who then says "Okie-dokie, you're good to go. See you next year." I call that a good deal. I wonder if they have drive-through confessions? Or email? Could you just leave a message on his answering machine?
Women's top 3 sins in the confessional:
- Pride, as in "I hope everybody is jealous of my new shoes."
- Envy, as in "I can't believe Muffy has my new shoes in red."
- Anger, as in "I hate that bitch, Muffy."
- Lust, as in "Muffy looks eminently doable tonight in those shoes."
- Gluttony, as in "I'm gonna have one more beer and then put the moves on Muffy."
- Sloth, as in "Oh, man, I just puked on my shirt. Hey, Muffy, lookin' good, babe...."
The survey found that about a third of Catholics no longer thought confession was relevant. Does that mean they think they're perfect or does that mean they think that anything short of a felony doesn't count as a sin?
Pope Benedict XVI (that's his last name: 'XVI') says, "If people do not confess regularly, they risk slowing their spiritual rhythm." Which is, I assume, what they mean by good Catholics using only the 'rhythm method' or abstinence. Abstinence, I assume, means you didn't show up for work that day. So, I assume, if you have good rhythm and don't go to work, you will go to heaven.
In 2008, the Apostolic Penitentiary came up with an updated list of modern sins, such as polluting the environment (I'm talking to you, Hummer drivers), taking or selling illegal drugs (Heaven obviously does not have a baseball team), causing poverty and financial greed, which pretty much rules out Congress and all banks. Just released, the newest sin for 2009 is typing your emails in ALL CAPITALS.
I wonder if Bernie Madoff, Art Nadel and Richard Stanford are considered sinners for their schemes or angels of God for helping to save all their investors from the sin of excessive wealth?
The survey was conducted by Fr Roberto Busa, a 95-year-old Jesuit scholar, who probably figures that being under 80-years old should be a sin in itself.
Father Busa conducts his painstaking research
Slumdog Millionaire Comes To Bradenton
Hoping to cash in on recent Oscar winner Slumdog Millionaire, the Pittsburgh Pirates have outsourced two pitcher positions to two Indian ballplayers by inviting them to their spring training camp in Bradenton. And, by 'Indian,' I don't mean 'used to play for Cleveland,' I mean 'from the sub-continent.'
And, by 'ballplayers,' I mean 'javelin throwers.'
Both Rinku Singh and Dinesh Patel beat out 36,998 other non-baseball-playing Indians in a contest called "Million Dollar Arm Hunt," a talent competition in India promoted by Jeff Bernstein, who is Barry Bond's marketing agent. Some agent. He couldn't find a job for Bonds in 2008, but he could run an 'American Idol' knock-off half of a world away?
True to the Slumdog Millionaire rags to riches theme, neither of these prospects knew the first thing about the Zen that is baseball, with its rich traditions, its revered heroes, its hallowed temples of green grass, brown dirt and excruciatingly-straight white chalk lines.
Had never heard about baseball's steroid past.
Oh, wait, that was supposed to be "baseball's storied past...."
Hell, they had never even heard of Abbott and Costello's Who's On First routine, let alone know who was playing right field. Then again, Costello never figured that one out either.
Their homes in India had electricity, but no running water and tarps for roofs. Yes, just like in Florida after hurricane season!
They learned to speak English from watching Baseball Tonight. Thank God it wasn't something like the Sopranos or Snoop Dogg's Father Hood. Fo' schizzle!
Wait 'til Rush Limbaugh and Bill O'Reilly find out about these two guys stealing American jobs from American boys playing America's pastime in America. Why, it's downright un-American!
In India, cows are sacred. In America, we kill them and use their skin for baseball gloves. How's that strike you, boys?
And what about those bus rides through Florida during spring training? Will the Pirate veterans tell them that here in America we ride in the bus, not on the bus?
And, by 'ballplayers,' I mean 'javelin throwers.'
Both Rinku Singh and Dinesh Patel beat out 36,998 other non-baseball-playing Indians in a contest called "Million Dollar Arm Hunt," a talent competition in India promoted by Jeff Bernstein, who is Barry Bond's marketing agent. Some agent. He couldn't find a job for Bonds in 2008, but he could run an 'American Idol' knock-off half of a world away?
True to the Slumdog Millionaire rags to riches theme, neither of these prospects knew the first thing about the Zen that is baseball, with its rich traditions, its revered heroes, its hallowed temples of green grass, brown dirt and excruciatingly-straight white chalk lines.
Had never heard about baseball's steroid past.
Oh, wait, that was supposed to be "baseball's storied past...."
Hell, they had never even heard of Abbott and Costello's Who's On First routine, let alone know who was playing right field. Then again, Costello never figured that one out either.
Their homes in India had electricity, but no running water and tarps for roofs. Yes, just like in Florida after hurricane season!
They learned to speak English from watching Baseball Tonight. Thank God it wasn't something like the Sopranos or Snoop Dogg's Father Hood. Fo' schizzle!
Wait 'til Rush Limbaugh and Bill O'Reilly find out about these two guys stealing American jobs from American boys playing America's pastime in America. Why, it's downright un-American!
In India, cows are sacred. In America, we kill them and use their skin for baseball gloves. How's that strike you, boys?
And what about those bus rides through Florida during spring training? Will the Pirate veterans tell them that here in America we ride in the bus, not on the bus?
Wednesday, February 25, 2009
OK, Now They've Gone Too Far
Broward County is conducting an internal investigation as to whether 15 Sheriff's deputies used steroids, although they admit that it's too early to speculate on possible criminal charges.
Football players, baseball players--sure; no steroids in sports.
But to castigate these two from the Sheriff's Dept. for using performance enhancing drugs, well, you make the call on this one:
Football players, baseball players--sure; no steroids in sports.
But to castigate these two from the Sheriff's Dept. for using performance enhancing drugs, well, you make the call on this one:
Manatee Machete Man Threatens To Fillet Contractor
Man, 78, attacks worker with machete, deputies say
Published: Wednesday, February 25, 2009 at 3:34 p.m.
MANATEE COUNTY – Authorities say a 78-year-old man charged at a contractor with a machete, threatening to chop him up and throw him in a pond because the man did not want fish removed from the neighborhood lakes.
Francisco Ortiz, of the 500 block of Country Lane, was arrested on a charge of aggravated battery with a deadly weapon in the Tuesday afternoon attack.
Deputies say Ortiz reported the contractor to authorities around 3:30 p.m. when he noticed the man removing fish. Ortiz was notified by a deputy that the homeowners’ association had hired a contractor to remove tilapia from the neighborhood's ponds.
Ortiz, 78, told deputies he had pushed the contractor out of his yard last week and intended to do it again, the report said.
Ortiz entered his home and retrieved a machete while a deputy questioned neighbors about Ortiz's demeanor, according to a report.
After the attack, Ortiz ran into the home and locked all the doors, but Ortiz's wife let the deputy into the residence to arrest Ortiz.
Imagine. You're sitting there on your sun-dappled lanai that overlooks the lake, sipping an afternoon St. Germain's cocktail, statuesque herons patiently wade and wait, glistening turtles laze on the bank, a pair of otters frolic in the softly rippling water, somewhere in the distance a bird sings its song of spring. Yes, life is good in your little corner of the world.
Then, somebody comes to your idyllic little scene to remove the tilapia. Surely, there are better ways to get the fish out of the pond than this:
On second thought, forget the machete--go get the 12-gauge for that son of a bitch!
And when the cops show up to arrest him, HIS WIFE LET'S THEM IN to haul him off to jail.
Not even two weeks after Valentine's Day and she does him this way. That's right, buddy; that's how much she really thought of that $60 bouquet of roses you got her......
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