The Ghost of Christmas Future

A Christmas post in June, a six month regression......

If you ask me little invisible readers, and I'd just like to point out that people seldom ask me anything even those I cannot see, It appears that the universal focus of geriatric boredom and loss of hope has been centered here in our office. I've never witnessed such a large group of sad and pathetic losers congregated in such a small space, well, that's not true as I have actually been to a Toronto Maple Leafs game.

If it was up to me, and it's not usually up to me, I'd take every last sorry individual outside and give them a turkey and tell them to go and stuff it. If we have any less Christmas spirit in this office this coming season I think that we'd be on the event horizon of forming our own black hole, although the town of Ajax, Ontario appears to have beaten us to the punch.

I blame it all on the management of the long lost next door pub the "Flying Squirrel", the bad management that is, if the emporium was still available to the "workers" here then at least there would be the annual venting and escape. Unfortunately, all avenues of continued alcoholism for the weary engineer are now a short drive away, no longer can one quickly stagger back after a few. The Flying Squirrel conga is no more.

It's true that a few star performers are still managing to get the beer in and although alcohol is illegal in the office, it is rumored that the resident alcoholic Bruce Phemister has what looks to be a keg under his shirt. It's been a long, long time since the likes of James Ning brought a fifteen gallon bottle of Canadian Club into the office, secreting the same in the "human resources" cupboard and encouraging everyone in the federation to get squiffy, brave times indeed. It's a rare sighting for even a box of wine gums nowadays. Things have changed, people have been promoted, hope has been lost.

Not that alcohol is the answer to everything, there are people here who will have fun, regardless of the level of toxicity in their bloodstream, I've seen the stone cold sober records clerk aka CAD operator Doug Varley giggling at engineering documents such as EOs and DIS'sssss. Mind you, he is a complete nutter and thinks he's a helicopter.

Then there's the caffeine free Paul Kashak with his endless thirst for life, telephone tag, market updates and the search for Volvo pictures to annoy his little Italian friends. There's certainly no need for alcohol there, although it does tend to quiet him down a bit when he's had a dozen or so vodka coolers, well, if you call jumping out of the bushes during a golf tourny, yelling "banzaii" and bursting Rob Chappells spleen "quieting down" that is. I wish my invisible net friends had seen that one, I really do......

What happened to all those perky Print Room Girls?- they were the life and soul of the Dowty Christmas spirit, drunk, giggling and proud to be women, they've all jumped ship to become cashiers or married mums. Of course there's always Doreen Nodwell, who is fundamentally a Print Room Girl trapped in an administrators body. She thinks she's on the corporate ladder, but we all know different. If she was any more opaque she'd be a set of Harley Davidson curtains.

There's so much of "that" that isn't "this" any more. Old timers who can remember the festive seasons of fifteen years ago will probably agree. Where, may I ask, did the free turkeys go? - was I sleeping when it stopped or are people still receiving secret Miracle Mart vouchers for their yearly Paxo fix?

No booze, no free turkey, no decorations. They've all been tidied away with our personal effects and replaced with our corporate identity numbers, it will be a different Christmas in 2004 that's for sure, still, I'm looking forward to my Holiday Greeting from m0008139, m0007001 and of course, the usual hilarious efforts of m0005922.

There are a lot of people I miss, and a lot I'd like to hit.......

I suppose the three wise men would be quite disappointed to enter the foyer/stable and find a couple of fake landing gears instead of a Christmas Tree or a nativity scene, but I'm being rather silly here am I not?. What would three wise men be doing here in Canada at that time of the year?

That's if we're allowed to call it a Christmas tree any more, I think that term is being gradually five-essed into the more tolerant "Holiday Tree" - no wonder Rudolph is feeling poorly this year.

Six months early but, Happy Festivus. Bring on the feats of strength..........