Skating Away

In the world of figure skating or, more particularly, ice dancing, OD refers to the Original Dance, the second of three phases of competition.

Of course, to most of us, OD refers to something else.

R.I.P. Christopher Bowman.

“If I had to pick the three most talented skaters of all time, I would pick Christopher as one,” Brian Boitano, the 1988 Olympic champion, told the Chicago Tribune.  “He had natural charisma, natural athleticism, he could turn on a crowd in a matter of seconds and he always seemed so relaxed about it.”  

That’s some mighty high praise from one of the sport’s finest.  And while my top 3 (off the top of my head) are all outside the U.S. — John Curry, Kurt Browning, Robin Cousins –  I can’t deny Christopher Bowman’s talent.  Indeed, he was a complete skater.  He possessed both athleticism and artistry.  Alas, what he did not possess was longevity.

Here’s his short program from the 1991 National Championships. 

Thank you for sharing your talent and your shining moments with us.

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Corporate America Sucks, Part V: Fighting Back

To make matters worse (if one could imagine such a thing) for Jeannie’s cousin (L), L’s employer will no longer hold her job for her.

L is scheduled to return to work at Devil Bank later this month, having exhausted the time allotted to her under the Family and Medical Leave Act and any other leave or time off to which she was entitled.  “Holding her job” not only assures her employment status, but also it keeps her family health insurance intact.  A family plan under COBRA would cost her around $1,500 a month, and that’s just not in her budget.

With Matthew’s turn for the worse, L requested an extension on her leave.  Devil Bank denied the request.

I don’t deny that Devil Bank is acting against policy or is not in compliance with the FMLA, but where is the human decency?  Yes, I know that Corporate America has no sense of human decency, but nonetheless I am outraged.  A single mother of three wants a few more weeks off from work, with job security, so that she can be at home with her dying son, and those inhuman, stuffed shirt ratbastards deny her?!  Can we send them to their Special Hell right now?

I couldn’t stop thinking about it last night.  I have accounts at Devil Bank.  I wanted to close my accounts and then send a letter to the CEO telling him why I closed them.  But what good would that do?  It’s not like I’m a major depositor, and it’s not like these bastards give a damn.

I thought if more people knew about this, they probably would feel the same as I do.  They, too, would want to close their accounts.  Single mothers, parents, the general public would be incensed, no?

And that’s when I realized this had the makings of a news story.

I have been in touch with a local news station, and they seem interested in reporting the story.  Obviously, I need L’s permission before disclosing any further information.  She turned to the media last summer to help her get out the word about the bone marrow drive, but at this time, she may want to keep the matter private, and I would completely respect that.

So, if L does decide to go forward with the media?  My hope is that Devil Bank will cave to public outcry and be shamed into doing the right thing (or at least want to counter the negative publicity) or some other bank or employer will come forward and offer L a job when she is ready to return to work.

I may not be able to give L her son’s health, but maybe I can help her keep her job.

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(Given my hatred towards Corporate America, maybe I should be in human rights law, or return to my legal roots in plaintiffs’ law.)

Day of Crap

My busted down car has been at the dealer for two days now, and (as far as I know) they have yet to even look at it.  I last called them at 2:30, and when my request for a loaner car was answered with, “We don’t have any more available,” I lost my temper.  Not ballistic, just outraged.

Rot in Hell, VW Dealership.

They probably are doing evil, sabotage-y things to my punchbuggy as we speak.

Next, when I called Mom to update her on the car situation (as she was to be my ride to the dealership), I got, “Well, don’t think that you can use my car.  I have lunch plans tomorrow.”  Not that I asked.  Not that it even had occurred to me.  But it’s good to know that retired Mom’s lunch is more important than my getting to work.

Yeah, thanks for beating me when I’m down.

After getting off the phone with Mom, I just cried in utter, beaten frustration.  And I’m not a crier.

Then, Sandy gave me a heads up that BFB Bob had a major hissy fit this morning, cursed a blue streak, and said some shit about why couldn’t I “take a fucking taxi” to work?

Answer:  Because only a fucking moron would spend most of a day’s pay actually getting to/from work.

You see, that precious lawyer has been away from the office for ten days, and he’s got work that needs to get done.  It’s all about him, you know.  Like I conspired with my punchbuggy to break down, cost me money, and somehow make Bob feel like the inconvenienced one.  Yeah, I have those powers.  Anyway, if Bob needed me there so badly, he should have offered to pay for the taxi.  Dick.

Sandy — and Tina (yes, they conference called me at home) — were sweet, comforting, supportive, and understanding.  They told me it wasn’t worth stressing over.  They are right, of course, and I heart them for their wise and kind words.

In hindsight, I should have forgone honesty and called in sick.  But who knew? 

So, after a day of directing, and being the target of, anger, it comes to this:

Anger.  It’s so not worth it.

It’s so not worth degrading yourself by flying off the handle over petty little things.  Because in the scheme of it all, they are just petty things.  It’s better to remember to have love in your heart.  It’s better to imagine yourself as an 80-year-old reflecting on her life and realizing that those petty things just don’t matter.

I quickly reached this new perspective after reading an email from Jeannie.  Time has run out for her cousin’s teenage son.  Matthew, who at age four survived cancer, was diagnosed with leukemia last year.  He eventually received a bone marrow transplant.  Last week, he was readmitted to the hospital.  There is another problem with his blood,  and nothing can be done for him.  The doctors are speaking in terms of “weeks.”

Auto mechanics and angry bosses don’t matter one bit.

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