Speaking Out on Your Speaking Out

It’s Friday – and you know what that means! It means my iPod-scented bus commute has given me another clue as to what the weekend holds in store.

Wait a minute. What do you mean, it’s not Friday? It is if you’re an 80% employee, baby!

Green River by Creedence Clearwater Revival
Substitute by The Who
Sally by Gogol Bordello
Respect by Aretha Franklin
Icky Thump by The White Stripes
Atomic Dog by George Clinton
568 Coleen by The Heavy

Funky.

Wednesday, 12:04 p.m., and I’ve slammed my lunch in order to spend time writing.

And you know, I was all prepared, in that haphazard way I have, to write a piece on how memories only become truly clear with time – and it was gonna be so cool, too! – when my brain was overridden – nay, hijacked – by the stereophonic sound of someone using a speakerphone to call someone less than 50 feet from them.

“Johnson! Peterson! Chmielewski! While I’ve got you all here, let’s give a quick shout-out to Accounting. Gather ‘round, my pretties.”

Or something akin to that.

And I understand. I do. It makes perfect sense to use the speakerphone in that way, especially since most people will then close the door in order to use said phone.

But that’s not the case here. Why in the wide wide world of sports would someone use a speakerphone to call someone else just three or four doors away?

Have you seen Pink Floyd’s live concert from Pompeii? Because sitting between two people using a speakerphone mere feet from each other is something like that, minus the drugs or the possibility of hooking up with some large-nosed British guy.

And yes. I have a thing for men with large noses. And no. The blog that would go on to explain the reasons behind this does not yet exist.

And so I sat in the center of the speakers, so to speak, partially irritated and partially diggin’ the left-to-right nature of it all, recalling the headphone days of my youth, Led Zeppelin bouncing from one ear to another, the lava lamp throwing irregularly shaped blobs of light on the walls...

Oh for cryin’ out loud.

It's all become clear to me: I am old and tired. I must go lie down now.

Send money and a half-dozen large-nosed Brits. If you can send them Friday, I’ll be home to sign for them…