Sunday Tasks

It is harder on Sundays.

Saturday Sleep

Another weekend song . . .

Sleep sleep sleep sleep.
Can't sleep sleep sleep.
Want to sleep sleep.
Why can't I sleep?

The Deadline That Nobody Cares About

We stayed till 8 p.m. tonight to (unsuccessfully) meet a deadline that nobody cares about.

Oh, the deadline is real. A product cannot be produced and delivered to a new (BIG) client without the deadline met. Which doesn't change the fact that nobody seems to care about that: it is Friday - chance to take a 3-day weekend or go home a little early or, at least, don't stick around past 5 p.m.

Except for our little block of cubes. Nobody gave us The Message. Clueless, we drafted-on through the day, into the night, filling the millions of papers they need, sending them on for the appropriate authorizations on a quarter-hour basis all day long. Going over again and again to retrieve them from --- whom?

All gone or never in. No memo, no relief from The Deadline. We are expected to deliver. They are accountable to none.

So we didn't make The Deadline. Monday we'll try again.

Minions work. Masters bate.

Something's Due

Two different people came up yesterday asking for information that I know nothing about.

Well, one thinks, simply say "I don't know."

But that easier answer is a little more complicated by the fact that:

a. The people asking are nice.
b. The people asking are management.
c. The information they want is legitimate.
d. Who the hell does know the answer?

They piqued my curiosity. Now I've got to know. So I promised I would "look into it" and, damn!, forgot that I have a reputation for "delivering."

So now I've got something due and I'm not quite sure what it is.

I'm also not quite sure how much anyone cares: the question could be legit, but the motivation behind it may be shaky. Or forgotten by tomorrow. I have no illusions about the memory retention of the company. Ferrets have more stick-to-it power sometimes. But I promised. And I am curious.

Me and the killed cat: curiosity.

Burt Beats Bad

Learned something yesterday: Burt beats bad today.

Burt don' like to be crossed, man.

'Thought I'd bought a week till the missing VPs return and could be part of the decision that Burt the Bully Veep was pushing through yesterday - a decision that would normally be their decision, since it is their departments' activity affected, not Burt's.

Yep, Burt don' like to be crossed.

So I stalled for time with a promise to "provide more information." True promise, too. And provided the info today. Good info, too.

Oh, gawd, Burt don't like to be crossed.

Took me 3 hours to prep the info. 'Took Burt all of 30 seconds to write his Bolded, underlined, no-questions-about-it-at-all response --- to everyone:

"You were not authorized to work further on this: the decision has been made. Cease all further activity. THIS IS CLOSED."

People walk past the cube with their eyes averted.

Burt is smilin' and laughin', though. Said "Hi!" to me today with a cheeriness I have not seen in months.

Sandbagged

'Sat in for my Veep today at an executive meeting.

Things went well for a while, until . . .

Until Burt the Bully decided this was a good time for some turf warring on our department. Suddenly there was a new item - not on the agenda: Why was our department engaged in an activity that Burt thought was a waste of time?

"Justify it," he says.

"The executive committee approved this last November, during the budget sessions," I answers lamely, not having been there but knowing when we had to start doing it.

"But why are we doing it now?" Burt bores down.

This is a "fun" situation, because Burt does not believe in "speaking above your pay level" (ex-Army man, y'see) and the look in his eyes is one of challenge. Burt does not like to hear info he disagrees with - 'learned this from other situations - but now I'm in the catbird seat for my Veep and...

Well, here's the funner part: I actually agree with Burt on this issue - but I don't think it's fair to let my Veep's position get plowed under just because he's not there. And certainly not because Burt is sure he can bully over any old cube worker who happens to be sitting in.

The Prez, as always, acts as if he's never heard anything about the issue before.

It's not his fault: He really truly sincerely prefers to avoid conflict and will agree with anyone he's with when one-on-one - then do what he has to do anyway when they're out of sight. Consequently, these all-together-in-one-place sessions have an awkward protocol: the Prez wants everything smiley friendly and, since the Veeps are wise to his personal preferences, they make mushy mooshy sounds of consensus and then go slug it out in the aisles.

Except for Burt - who, if I didn't mention it before, is also the Prez's hit man: the Heavy to the the Prez's Nice Guy persona. No one is quite certain if Burt is always speaking for the Prez but - as in today - when Burt speaks in his definitive way, all others keep silent.

Except for stupid me.

I argued. I voiced the justifications my Veep made when they agreed to this thing a few months ago. I got the dagger look from Burt. And, finally, I kept the group from having a "consensus" by offering, clerical-style, to provide "informational documentation" - a stall tactic till my Veep returns for the next meeting.

'Problem is, I don't think my Veep feels like fighting with Burt over anything.

Stupid me. Time to go back to my cube and not act like a responsible executive.

Who's On First?

Not being at the meeting, one has only the Rashomon version:

Voice 1 (President emeritus): Marketing decided that they don't like the current OEM deal we have - no profit - and need to revive the old product development that was dropped 3 years ago. That was Harry's decision back then to drop it, no wonder he's gone.

Voice 2 (Veep Engineering): This idea is just from the President Emeritus. Nobody in Marketing really wants it, they're just going along with him till the idea blows over. We have to think about developing products for the future, not from before my time here, when Harry was running things.

Voice 3 (Director Marketing): We're just exploring ideas, it's one of those on the table. I heard we have an old product ready to go. Harry told me about it but I wasn't in-house back then.

Voice 4: Y'know, I think Harry did a cost analysis and sales projection on the old product development.

Voice 1: This is a top priority.

Voice 2: This is a bottom priority.

Voice 3: We have to explore the priorities.

Instant Karma (Advertised)

There's a slogan that you wrote
And the public pays attention,
Now everyone takes note
When you fart with gas retention.
'Cause now you are the man:
Everybody is a fan -
Sell they know you can.
Only problem is,
The product works like shit.
Well, they say, "That's biz,"
But your ad it is a hit.
Instant karma, sudden fate:
Recognition sure is great.

Weekend Song

Need a weekend song . . .

The sun is bright
The day is hot
The wonder of it is
Why do I work so harder now
When this my day off is?

My back it aches
My arms are scratched
My fingers watch them bleed
I sure is fun to sweat and curse
A masochistic need.

The dog barks loud
The cat moans low
The bird squawks in his cage
The morning starts off glorious
Hooray, it’s Saturday!

C’mon, now, let’s be honest about it: Friday night after work is sooo much better than Saturday responsibilities!

The Rules & Standards of Hell

Perhaps it is with deadpan seriousness that we will go down in flames. The following list was posted as official Quality policy yesterday:

1. Maintain Quality standards.
2. Discourage non-Quality thinking
3. Enable Quality.

This type of all-company memo complements the company's website marketing literature for a certain Security product, in which the "advantages of the system" are listed:

* Increased facility security
* Personal accountability now guaranteed
* Prisoner tracking enhanced
* Death Row incident reduction
* Terrorist identification
* Inexpensive
* Upgrade-ready
* Easy-to-implement, easier to use.

This puts us in concert, apparently, with the rest of the world, where both liberal and conservative radio stations can boast these statements with a straight face:

Support your Soul and Sheriff Dan Bowen

This store provides you with the revolutionary tools for your next radical feminist meeting.

Change, Last Minute

In concert with an earlier mantra, "If you write it, it will not be read," comes now the observation:

If you ask for corrections, they will come - at the last minute.

Corollary to that:

After it is almost too late to do anything without a late-night rush.

Is there anything more to say?

Sure there is.

Let us be truthful with ourselves here: everyone loves to change someone else's work. This is especially true when there is no accountability - i.e., someone else, not you, has their name on the puppy but they have foolishly asked you (or have no choice in the matter) for changes that should be made.

Of course, of course, of course you don't have a lot of time to spend on this dog. but seat-of-the-pants opinion doesn't take much time. And it is so obvious that you, with your last-minute inspiration, can add so much. So much.

And remember: this cur may be mangy, but your 1 or 2 changes can potentially result in a complete makeover of the entire concept, presentation, formatting or whatnot.

Change, Last Minute - it is a powerful tool in the right hands.

They Missed Me

It's satisfying to be wanted: the desk piled high with Incoming, the voicemail filled with Requests, the email mailbox filled to capacity, and the gratified looks that say: You've been gone a week - we've missed you.

Actually, they haven't missed me. Not one whit. They just acted as if I was still here and piled all this crap on daily without regard to the email Office Assistant telling them Out Of Office, ears stone-deaf to the voicemail instant message repeating On Vacation, and legally blind to the big Big BIG SIGN taped to the chair with the oh-so-cutesy message from Ellen, the office secretary, saying He's Gone Fishin'.

But they missed me! They really missed me!

Vacation (Still)

Last day of freedom seems the sweetest and saddest.

“Freedom.” Wrote it without thinking. Says everything, eh?

Actually, don’t dislike working, just the meaningless of so much of it in the cubes. Driving yesterday, meaningless, made more sense than the weekly report that no one reads but everyone demands. The report makes sense, too, actually – but no one reads it. Meaningless.

660 miles to cover on the way home. Too short.

Vacation & Return To Work: Wrong Way

Had the opportunity to drive straight home, have a day off to relax, then return to work at end of vacation. Just couldn’t do it. Turned left at Portland and am heading 300 miles somewhere in the wrong direction. The wrong direction…

It will be a long drive tomorrow – probably won’t get in till 2-3 a.m. the morning I have to go back into work – but it’s not the wrong direction to go.

Offsite Network Access

It is so fun to be able to travel virtually anywhere in the U.S. and find a free internet access. Wireless, usually. I am sitting in a farm country diner in Idaho and keying-in to my friends, to my family, and - stupid, STUPID me - to my work.

I should NOT have looked into my work email. I wrote an Out Of Office message saying I wouldn't. I swore I wouldn't. I even thought I couldn't.

But I could - and curiosity got the better of me. Me and the dead cat.

Now I know what's facing me when I return.

So much for relaxing into my bliss. Sitting in an Idaho diner looking at new-plowed fields with snow-capped mountains in the gorgeous distance and unable to think of anything but forms, reports and filings that I despise. Blisshit!

Vacation Sleep

Vacation: Day 3

Sleeping later. Major improvement over first two days when arose earlier than normal. Discovered horrible fact: like early morning when not forced to face it. Sleeping later, then, is perverse sort of punishment: not easy to do, not particularly enjoyable, but know that the body rhythm will change and will forget how to "get up" earlier.

Also, unless you're a hunter (am not) or a golfer (am not not), why the hell get up so early anyway when it's not work-related? Reading t'ain't so fun in the pre-dawn grey morning. And it's too early to sit by a fire with some strong drink in hand. Sex is fun, but it's too early for loved partner who doesn't see reason for pre-work erotic hours when the whole day is free. An excellent idea which we will attempt to implement today. We shall see if ability is equal to ambition.

Vacation: Countdown Back

Vacation: Day #2

Already counting down how few days are left till time to go back. Not anticipation - feeling oh so feeling life too cliche short (or, at least, vacation too short). Haven't "done" anything yet and already wish there was more time to do it. Small taste is Tantalus' punishment.

Left It Behind - Oh, No

Vacation's begun, job's left behind for a week.

Oh, God, that's the theory, isn't it?

First night's dreams, even before setting out on the road, has piles of papers on the desk reshuffling themselves around. Shuffling themselves around: They - Will - Never - Be - Finished.

This is grade school redux, when the nights before and after a "BIG" report (a whole page! - with a construction paper map!), those nights had the same recurring nightmare: I was throwing out the trash and - right after tearing all the garbage papers in half - I realized that I JUST TORE UP MY ONLY COPY OF THE REPORT!!!

The bad dream followed me into junior high and high school, drifting into adulthood...

The only thing that cured that nightmare was, being in college, seeing a doctoral student have her final draft, typed manuscript blow away in the wind, right out of her hands, as she was walking it to her thesis review. Her real life shock took the oomph out of my nightmare. It was gone. I was relieved.

And now...

I need to find some hard-luck cube worker and watch...

Day Before Vacation

There are two ways to approach an impending vacation: with your mind already checked out or as a responsible individual.

If you're honest with yourself, your thoughts are miiiiiiles away from the cube.

Realistically, if anyone else in the company knows you are going - especially management - you ain't got a chance of escaping into the mindworld of travel a minute earlier than the last minute you clock out.

Jeez!, I'll be gone only a week but there are 10 days of "we need this before you go" jobs plopped on my desk. It's funny how, in an economy where every employee is a disposable commodity, until you are tossed out you are indispensable.

I'd like to inflate my ego and think it's me that's so invaluable, but I am fair enough to admit that I have the same stampeding herd instinct as everyone else: when I know that Lucy, Will, Takesha or Jim-Bob Jones is going away on vacation, I home-in on their desk with my own "can you see to this before you go" pleas. Of course I don't have management clout, but my eyes well up in supplication and . . .

And, today, hoping to leave tomorrow A.M. at the crack of dawn, I am still here in the wee hours of the night. Suckered again by sweet eyes, bonhommie and a misguided sense of duty.

High-Concept Analysis

One never listens to inside counsel: the outside voice - paid for profusely - is the wiser one. Always. The receipts say so.

These notes cull the core meaning of our Company's most recent high-concept analysis, distilled from three hours of locked-away seclusion in the meeting room.

It was a motivational meeting. We were inspired, emboldened, prepared to be undeterred in our quest for excellence:

One two, one two,
A snickerdoo: a quicker three or four.
The garboiled fisk has slibbed the klest
Insernate evermore.
Were you to mrew the emptire crew
Impring the brudbund shate,
The instang crash of bouldened snash
Desteers embittered hate.

Dan's List of Obstacles: Old Regime

Just to keep from getting nostalgic for the past too much, 'pulled up Dan the Hyper-Active Boss Man's "List of Obstacles" that he compiled when the New Team came in. Of course, as in everything Dan did, he overdid it: we started with "A Summary A, B. C" and ended up at item "R.R.R.R."

This part of the list, detailing the sins of the Old Regime, may explain why the late, great, gone Dan had few fans among the old-timers:

b. Absenteeism of president (70% out)
c. 2 owners, 50/50 vote/fight
d. 1 pro-Us / 1 anti-Us

h. Lack of business plan or direction
i. Lack of continual planning: seat-of-the-pants through the year, once-a-year thinking
j. Owner intimidation
k. VPs on part-time schedules
l. VPs too involved in petty issues, not enough management thinking
m. Company Culture - Longevity vs. Any Change
n. Longevity employees get away with murder
o. Inequality in Position vs. Title

t. VP conflicts of interest

v. Master Plan used as wish list, not thought out

y. Negative attitudes - say "No" first - justification required even when obvious
z. Positions without Authority

dd. Lack of mid-management accountability

ff. Lack of clear job descriptions & organizational structure

kk. Poor Production planning

oo. Lack of Marketing leadership

qq. Lack of commitment (budget) to consider new product offerings to the company

ss. Micro-management

vv. QC bottleneck - all levels
ww. Elite depts get away with anything
xx. Lack of recognition and commensurate reward among the departments

kkk. Turf issues

lll. Mid-Management weekly meetings: nothing planned

ttt. Lack of vision in existing core products

bbbb. Phone system sucks
cccc. Indeciveness on cubicles - constantly changing

ffff. Too many approval signatures required on documents
gggg. Lack of professionalism
hhhh. Failure of company to provide talent-attracting salaries

kkkk. Lengthy, frequent & aimless meetings

oooo. General decision paranoia

rrrr. Rumors spreading

Haiku: Empty Word

Yeah . . .

So what do you say
after the last few days?

Shit
is not
enough.

They made him cry

They made him cry, the bastards!

Buzz, he’s been here 25 years, 26 next month. Once, a few years ago, he was in charge of half the company. Never an owner, never the top Veep, just the man who kept things running and told things straight.

Then the new Exec Team came in. Buzz welcomed them because he knows he’s getting old and running out of steam. When they started divvying things up, he agreed, because he knows that one man – even him – should never have had so many departments under him. Besides, he was retiring in a short, very short while.

But this company had been like his extended family. Not a family he wanted, but a family that came to him when it needed help. He saw one owner through two divorces. He saw the security guard through his son’s cancer death. He helped keep a line worker’s furniture from being repossessed and found another Veep a job after it was apparent that the other guy was too young to retire and too old to meet this company’s high-paced needs. Buzz saw children born and accidents rushed to the hospital and houses bought with financing he encouraged the company to arrange. A lot of marriages. There is a photo of Buzz dressed in a Hawaiian skirt singing to the company at an impromptu lunchtime picnic: a little embarrassed, a little embarrassing – speaking of “sing,” Buzz can’t – but family.

Still, Buzz has his own real-life family and no illusions about which is more important. ’Never did. He saw the big 6-5 coming and knew where he wanted to be when that year hit.

And then he saw what the new Exec Team was doing to the factory family. Even as they were smiling to the crowd they were printing CONFIDENTIAL “lean” strategies for themselves. So Buzz decided to stay on a while longer to help his second family as much as he could. After all, if anyone knows the company and how it runs better than Buzz, it would only be the original founder, Ben. But Ben’s in his 70s and admits that he has only enough energy to follow the R&D that was always so dear to his creative heart. Nope, Buzz was who Ben looked to, argued with, agreed with, or overrode when they were both in their prime. There’s another owner, but he wasn’t a founder only a–

Another story. Buzz’s story, now: If you want to know how things run, especially if you’re coming from outside, talk to Buzz. From nuts to bolts to shipping to customer care, Buzz knows how things run. All you have to do is listen. He’s not even proprietary or egotistical about what he knows: if you’ve got a good idea, he’ll chew it over, subject it to the experience he has, and stand by you stronger than you can yourself. Buzz isn’t God, he makes mistakes – and he knows it – but he’s a mighty good archangel to have by your side.

All you have to do is listen.

Unless you don’t care about facts.

Unless you’ve come in with your ideas pre-set and your plans pre-determined and, dammit!, if the facts on the ground don’t match your plans: Tough. You have MBA-written management books to back you up, seminars from the khans of corporation, the winds of change blowing in your direction, the end of history as your stepping stone. You – can – change – the – facts.

That’s what everyone you listen to says: Change the Facts to match the Goals of the Plan.

Certainly don’t ask Buzz. He might come up with ideas to meet those Goals via a different Plan. Certainly don’t listen to Buzz.

Marginalize him. Divide up his authority into smaller and smaller slices. Keep him around to make Precision Ben feel comfortable, but isolate them by retiring everyone else they know. Make your decisions around them, keep them out of the loop. Precision Ben, well, him you’ve got to keep around to maintain the cash flow from his reserves. But Buzz: let him know that retirement is a reward well-deserved.

But Buzz keeps sticking around. “I have to try to help my family,” he said in confidence one day 18 months ago. “'Lean' means layoff to them. Too many of these people have given us 27, 30, 35 years of their lives. We’re not losing money. We don’t have to ‘lean’ that way. We owe it to them.”

That was last year. It’s not hard to lie to Buzz: he trusts people. So they lie. And they layoff. And, even when they offer “retraining,” they can take away the respect from a senior worker, they can make the new job so menial, they can make the company into Just Another Business so that there is no reason to stick around.

And so, Thursday, they even gave a Farewell Lunch to the long-timers going away, along with plaques and presents and a severance package complete with pre-written Letters of Recommendation that are so generically attractive that you almost overlook the fact that it says virtually nothing about the person except for the length of employment. Rosa. Fred. Joybal. Brenda. Carmenita. Who are you?

Buzz couldn’t attend the Farewell Lunch. He walked down on the floor that morning and said his good-byes and left to the doctor, his stomach aching, to avoid having to smile at the Last Day.

But a cruel trick was played on them all. The Last Day wasn’t the last day – it was just the last working day: everyone had to come back on Friday to sign off on their “voluntary termination” packages. Every ten minutes someone new showed up, trooping past Buzz’s office on their way to and from Human Resources. Where’s the Human dealing with these “Resources”? Already young minimum-wage workers are filling out application forms at the same long-desk window where the departees have to stand. Can we make the humiliation more pointed? Marcella, who was beautiful and thin when she came here 30 years ago, stands next to teenagers with glinting eyes of hoped-for employment and no illusions about any sort of loyalty to-or-from this company. Her knuckles crack a little as she holds the unfamiliar pen: Marcella can move product through the machine faster than the automated arm replacing her, but her fingers never had to memorize multi-signature forms. Ah, well, those muscle memories don’t matter now. With 17 years to go before qualifying for Social Security (if they don’t raise the age minimum), Marcella will have plenty of opportunity to learn new semi-skilled, repetitive tasks (if the jobs don’t move offshore). That’s why she immigrated to America in the first place: for the opportunities. Oh, darn, forgot! Marcella was born here. She’s just brown because… she is.

And, coming back from her awkward moments at HR and the thick envelope of papers they gave her, Marcella stopped at Buzz’s office to say good-bye again. Just like Sandy did a few minutes earlier, and Isa will in a few minutes. And Buzz rises from his seat while asking her to sit down, as he has always shown courtesy, and talks about Marcella’s two sons, three daughters and five grandchildren now, all growing so fast!, and the changing prices of housing, all so high now thank you Buzz for helping us buy it back when prices made sense, and she suddenly understands that everything she has known outside the home is over, dead, and even though it was “her” choice Marcella has second thoughts – but it’s too late now. Isa shows up at the door and Marcella leaves – she and Isa aren’t good friends but they hug, this is the last time they will ever see one another – and then Marcella hugs Buzz and leaves, while Buzz and Isa lean against the walls and talk in that old familiar way they fell into back 20 years ago when they worked three straight 18 hour days to deliver a last-minute order that helped the company meet its factor-required payment deadline.

And when Isa left, there was a break. Lunchtime, HR has closed its window, no more processing for an hour. And Buzz has closed his door, turned his back on the window to work on his PC – weekly Veep reports are due by day’s end – and in the glint of the fluorescent overhead light, tears glint down the profile of his chin.

I am proud to work for Buzz. And I damn the bastards who are making him cry.

As Expected: Bad News Doesn't Smile

So the downcast heads and evasive eyes of yesterday morning had their payoff in the afternoon. Bad news.

Deja vu? No. Just what was expected. More layoffs. We're not losing money, just not making "enough" profit.

Enough for what? "Enough profit margin to compete with 'the future'."

So many words in quotation marks. Must do so, though, to be honest: could not have thought of those words, that reasoning, myself.

Something's Happening Not Good

Something's happening today, something not good.

No words, no announcement, just a feeling.

Almost noon and the day still seems tentative.

President absent, Veeps looking around uncomfortably, mid-managers' heads buried in paperwork.

Rumors, of course - lots - but if you live by rumors we have been: bought out, sold, laid off, closed down, the President (Co., not U.S.) resigned, the President (Co., not U.S.) has been indicted, the Co. has been indicted, or the Owner has died. Plus more variations. No "good" rumors (beyond "We're safe - I think"), which is fairly par for the course: bosses don't look like pre-root canal patients when they're happy campers.

A strange electricity in the air and the skin feels tingly. Either mass paranoia, a flu epidemic has hit, or there's bad news a-comin'.

Significant Sampling

Meeting notes:

Based on our present knowledge of the project today, we anticipate . . .
(OK, Dan, we have a lead-in, but what are the actual facts?)

Per Barry C: "Systems Solution" = Future
(and the "solution" is . . . ?)

MBO = Management By Objective
Define the project
Commit to it
(Die for it?)

Dan C - no interruptions
DC = pain

Problem-Solving The Procedures System: Philosophy

'Sorry, folks, t'ain't all fun.

A serious philosophy:

A well-functioning system relies on three cornerstones: Will, Compliance and Understanding. From the top – down.

Without the will for the system to work, especially from the top, even the best system will stutter or fail.

The best intentions and will are worth nothing without actual compliance with the system’s requirements: you have to do it.

If the system is not understood, its requirements will not be effectively defined; its procedures run the risk of becoming meaningless bureaucracy.

Problem-Solving the Procedures System: Introduction

Everyone approaches problem-solving from a particular point-of-view. This is mine:

I am lazy – I hate doing unnecessary work, especially when it is a duplication of someone else’s work.

I am egotistical – I like to think that what I do will contribute to the company and loath work that will never be used except to take up space.

I like to teach – I hate teaching subjects that are ignored.

So that's why this analysis was made and the report was written.

That, plus the fact that I was assigned to do a report and this is what came out.

Reviewing The System

'Supposed to write, this quarter, a proposal for "streamlining" the department procedures. Meat-and-potatoes assignment: look at a couple of the ones written by people long gone from here (so we don't step on toes) then suggest how to revise them or combine a couple. Basically, decide on my assignment for the next quarter.

I think I made a mistake, tho'. Instead of patching up a couple of holes in the fabric, I decided to step back and look at the whole material. BIG mistake. More patches than anything else.

So now we've gone and made a damn proposal. NO WAY is this getting approved for Q2 - if ever. And I probably stepped on a few too many turfs, no matter how diplomatic I tried to make it. Trouble.

Or, if the rule works ("If you write it, it will not be read."), no one will ever know it exists. We'll see . . .

4/1

Awright, what can I really add today? I'll leave it to the pros.