Tuesday, February 22, 2011

All the Presidents' Men

I hope you enjoyed Tippecanoe Day as much as I did. Certain political slogans are timeless. "Tippecanoe & Tyler too" is one of them. Arguably it pales in comparison to the bastardized version of it that I think all six of the Kenny kids grew up learning in our house, which was "Tippecanoe and an Indian falls out." Egad! The incorrectness of our familial politics. The hell with political correctness. Just typing it still makes me smile. I know not whether the Kenny siblings pilfered it from the Marx Brothers but it is a line I could easily see Groucho uttering. Karl? Not so much.

In an interesting twist - because the Firm rarely closes - my office was officially closed for the holiday yesterday while both the Missus and Suzanne's places of business were open as if it was just a plain old Monday. I played a bit of hooky. I did not amble into the office until about 5:00 a.m. and I left for the day a bit past 12:30 p.m. I did get quite a bit done although being a day of the week that ended in "Y" I did not get accomplished all that I hoped or all that I needed, thus proving the adage about the malleable nature of things and the constant nature of things being often times indistinguishable one from the other. The decision to play hooky is likely one for which I will pay more than a little towards the latter part of the week. Yesterday however it allowed me to get home at a time of day when there was no one else home (all of the real adults were at work), which permitted me to not only do a chore or two that needed doing but also to get my day's training for the New Jersey Marathon completed.

This time next week is March 1. From that day until Marathon Day is only sixty sleeps. So far so good on the whole training thing - save for the decision to run seven miles before falling down, getting back up and then completing the 8-mile training run on Super Bowl Sunday. This Sunday's run was eleven miles, which I ran in a bit less than 90 minutes and which I ran without feeling as if my legs or my chest was going to explode. Being not too much of a fan of spontaneous human combustion I cannot even feign disappointment on having survived yet another milestone unscathed. I would feel better about the work to date if I did not know enough math to know that while running eleven miles without collapsing is - for me anyway - quite an accomplishment, it is still less than half of the distance to be covered on Marathon Day.

While the peace and quiet in the workplace yesterday was a nice change of pace for a Monday, these in-week holidays always manage to throw my equilibrium out of kilter. Before you automatically presume that my inability to grasp the subtlety of the four-day week is merely a reflection of my own stunted intellect, which it very well may be, consider this.

On Monday morning while I was in the office - and at that time playing every role in a one-man play - I received a telephone call from one of my colleagues, which is to say one of the other attorneys in my office. According to the clock on my computer it was 9:40 when I answered his call, which began with a somewhat curious question, "Are we closed for President's Day?" Arguably one would presume that if one works in an office - and presuming further for the purposes of this scenario - has not started one's career there on the Friday afternoon immediately preceding President's Day at sometime after 4:00 p.m. - then one should know some basic information about one's employer.....including office holidays.

Also, one would presume arguably that if one was uncertain as to whether a particular day was a Firm holiday then the time to ask that question is at some point prior to what would otherwise be the start of one's work day; right? Think about it for a moment. A call placed at 9:40 for the purpose of asking whether the Firm was open for the day. Had I thought about it for a moment - or had I been in the mood for anyone's company - I would have answered, "Of course we are open. And where the hell are you? You are almost an hour late!" Alas, I did not.

Maybe next year the opportunity will again present itself and this time I will take it. Boy, how funny that would be. And speaking of funny - did you ever hear the one about Tippecanoe and the Indian? It is a laugh riot I tell you. A laugh riot.


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