A John Cage Picnic

In my previous post, I mentioned one of the superstitions surrounding my company's annual picnic. Basically, the superstition says that if one were to perform for the picnic's talent show, then one would not be employed at PIL the following year. But, what happens when the picnic itself becomes the performance?

That's right, folks, the picnic has been cancelled! Wheeeee! The e-mail that delivered the news was one of the most wonderful works of Dilbert-ism that I have seen in recent months. It basically began, "I am pleased to announce..." and then went on to describe the cancellation of the picnic as well as explain the added bonus of getting a half-day off instead. I thought that mentioning the half-day "bonus" was an odd choice considering that if we actually had the picnic, we'd get the half-day off anyway! The only difference without the picnic is that we don't get to head out to the forest preserve to drink beer and eat some food in the sunshine among the company of our co-workers. I guess if I really hated my co-workers that would be a bonus. Unfortunately, I don't hate them. I don't even not like them a little.

On another work note, the new audio person started today so we went out to Buffalo Wild Wings for our New Guy Lunch. It's a strange situation for me, because while I am no longer the newest member of the full-time audio staff, I am still the one with the least amount of experience. The new hire, whose name is Eddie, has lots more experience than me in terms of audio gigs, and has already worked on lots of projects for PIL as a freelancer. So, while I don't know how this will affect me in the long term, in the short term, I still feel like the guy on the bottom of the totem pole.

Picnic Like a Game Audio Star

Since the weekend of my birthday, it seems as though Amy and I have been in high gear. A few days after the folks left, Steve and Ellen, two of our friends from Pittsburgh came to stay with us for a couple of days. While Amy and I couldn't take too much time off from work, we still had fun in the evening hours going out to eat and showing our guests around our latest home base territory.

This past Saturday, I also took a trip to Rockford for a picnic at Chadd's house. It was an open invite to any midwestern members of G.A.N.G. who were available to come and a handful of people came out. I finally got to meet Zack from Raven and it was fun to hook up with Sam again as always. I also got to meet a couple of newer cats who I'd never met before, Jim and Mark. Ed, from Human Head, had to send his regards, unfortunately, but I'm sure we'll meet up soon. I was sure looking forward to meeting the guy that created the audio for Doom 3, but maybe next time!

In closing, I should probably do a little bit to explain the title of today's entry. Last summer, we had our annual company picnic and the theme was "Picnic Like a Rock Star". At the time, I assumed that that theme was based loosely around the idea that a talent show of sorts was held, but apparently the talent show is held every year. There's also a little myth that floats around that says that if you do something in the talent show, you won't be employed at PIL the following year. Strangely enough, one of the people that told me that (who did NOT perform in the talent show) quit two weeks ago. Mysterious. Oh, wait! No it isn't.

Incremental Steps

As an update of sorts, Amy's grandfather's operation was successful and we did, in fact, receive a good phone call that evening. However, he is currently back in the hospital due to some spills that he has taken and supposedly they discovered that he was showing some symptoms of pneumonia as well. So, we're all pulling for his quick recovery.

So, I turned 30 recently and while I haven't had a whole lot of time to ponder the meaning of the event after the fact, a thought crossed my mind this morning that may prove to be accurate over time. Basically, I hypothesized that because the tens position on my odometer has rolled past "2" I will no longer think about my birthday in the same status-obsessed fashion. Even in one's 20's, there are a handful of birthday's that bear some rite of passage along with them. At 21, you can legally imbibe. At 25, your car insurance drops to its most significantly (and relatively speaking) low rate. Maybe I'm stretching a bit on that one, but it was a relief for me. Anyway, maybe at 30, seeing as though there are no more milestones until the number "4" rises to its haunches in attack, I won't really think about my chronological age. The anniversary will only be known as "my birthday" and not "my [blankieth] birthday".

A Year in the Life

It's officially official: I have been keeping this blog for a year. Mostly mundane events of my life from the past year are parked on the web, gathering web dust. I picture a pixelated book on a bitmapped shelf, small 1's and 0's floating in the air, illuminated by digital sunlight, gathering in piles. I can grab the book, blow a puff of air across the cover, and watch as a cloud of numbers explodes and settles easily on the floor.

So, now that I successfully exhausted that shallow metaphor, I can get back to copying down my thoughts. Amy's grandfather is going into the hospital again today, almost 12 years having past since his last major operation. The doctors recently found that 100% of the carotid artery on his left side is blocked (on purpose, due to the botched operation of 1993) and now 90% of the carotid artery on his right side is blocked as well. Today, they will be opening him once again to put something in the artery to clear the blockage as well as keep it open. They say that there is only a 3% chance of the current blockage escaping and causing a stroke.

The numbers are, indeed, clear. As uncomfortable as the idea is to everyone in the family in light of the previous medical debacle, the risk certainly outweighs the inevitable outcome if the procedure is not carried out. We're hoping to get a good phone call tonight.