Lurkers and Skulkers Anonymous

Once upon a time we had regular staff meetings. They were pretty much as exciting as your staff meetings. Except for the one with the speaker on time managment. She wanted us to do an ice-breaker. Yeah, well, there were like 12 of us. Our ice is about as broken as its going to get. Her ice-breaker included several actions like turning around or switching chairs and other tasks designed to get your blood moving. One of the actions involved swatting your partner on the rear. I kid. you. not.

The participation level pretty much bottomed out at that point. (hyuck, hyuck.) Not only was it a stupid idea, we'd just had a supervisor get fired and later prosecuted for having sex with his probationers on his desk. I don't remember anything the lady had to say about time management, but I will never forget the look on everyone's face when she wanted us to do some butt-bumping.

However, that is not the story I was gonna tell you. This is not even really story - just a photo.
We had an 8:00 meeting scheduled. Life was hectic and the boss was never late, but she was generally less early than most of the rest of us. She came charging in and sat down at the conference table. She launched into her first topic still having only barely glanced at the assembled masses. After about a minute, she realized that something was up - we were all being respectfully silent and overly attentive. She took a good long look at the end of the table.

That's me on the left. And unless I receive remuneration, I will identify the person on the right. (Technology has made my extortion business much easier, but I have yet to reap any financial dividends.)

As for staff meetings, we never paid much attention anyway, and none of us were in any way interested in posterior proximity exercises, so now we only have to endure them a few times a year.

We were notified today that Ken has died. Second from the right. We will miss you Ken. I'll never hear about the dead sea scrolls without remembering your sly grin. I'll miss you when NPR has broadcast a really witty story and I've no one to discuss it with. And sometimes I'll buy biscotti - not because I like it, but because you would. You will always have a place in our stories.