I found the office door of the Heartless Bureaucrat sealed shut. Generally, it was "always open" in a self sacrifice of constant exposure. Even in his darkest moments, the crypt was open to show that the tomb was empty.
But not today.
Hanging from an ancient iron lintel, the Heartless Bureaucrat hung from the neck, in an uncharacteristically "dressed up" jacket and slacks, his feet bare, blue and bloated with rot. His body hung limp and swaying in invisible indoor gusts of recirculated air dangling by a cheap necktie.
I stood agape, smelling the pall of decay and mildewing paperwork.
"It finally got to you, din't it?" I asked internally.
His eyes snapped open, a la "cheap horror film shock effect."
"Nope...I got bored. I needed a change..." his lifeless body responded, his bulging eyes drilled at me as his body twisted. His eyes strained harder to stay fixed on me as his body orbited slowly away from me. I looked down and a stack of his memoirs lay below him, stacked up and kicked over so his body would fall and jerk the humanity from him. "Now cut me down you melodramatic sack of shit."
I pulled the Gerber from his waist and sawed the cheap tie until his body dropped like a live turkey from a helicopter.
"Thank you." he said as he sat up. I stood over him, bewildered. A few breaths passed. "What? You created me...you built an identity around me...and then you lost your religion. You left the business. You left the battlefield. What did you expect?"
He stood up and dusted himself off, his dead, dull eyes stared at me with contempt as he straightened his tie (or what was left of it as most of it had been severed and still hung in a true knot above our heads)
"So, this is some kind of protest...a last allegorical gasp of independence because I made a career change, huh? Because my life is no longer a display of self sacrifice for the common good, you want to make a final display of self flagellation so folks will remember how "GOOD" you were?" I sneered at him with (self)loathing. "How good YOU were." he snapped as we stared at one another with grammatical confusion, both realizing this narrative would be confounding. "Sure, whatever you say." I responded. "Sure." he tugged at his collar and I could see the deep brown of ligature marks and subcutaneous coagulated blood where his weight had been suspended. "And you realize that you can no longer bitch about the poor and downtrodden because you've become part of the mechanism that creates the poor and downtrodden." "Exactly...and I can also rest at night knowing that I'll have a fighting chance at not BEING one of the poor and downtrodden." "And in so doing, you forfeit your lefty credibility when discussing..." he swallowed hard on some long forgotten bolus of organic matter and I took the opportunity to interrupt. "When discussing the plight of the American Worker? Sure...I can put on a suit and a tie and wander aimlessly through the corporate maze and forget where I came from. And wouldn't you like to believe that. That just because someone is inside the ivory tower, that they have no interest in helping people. I have plans...you'll see."
I watched as he pulled his silk noose from around his neck and flattened it against his chest. "I'd like to believe that, but only time will tell. You told me long ago that when I started to value the bottom line more than the people it served...how did you say...you said you wanted a 'bullet in the brain.'" he said that last four words as if reading them off of a cue card. "And BOY did you do that. Your little company started letting the needs of the people fall to the wayside to preserve themselves and in a social services 'hari kari" you didn't just quit the job, you walked away from the whole thing and jumped into middle management of a multinational corporation. Damn, boy! Talk about martyrdom! Someone's got a Christ Complex, doesn't he?" the corpse of the Heartless Bureaucrat cackled through his shattered larynx.
He put the silk necktie/noose around my neck and tightened it uncomfortably. "There...how y'like them apples?"
"Better a living drone than a dead martyr." I seethed at him. "Better a dead symbol of strength than a living mockery of relevance!" he spat back. "No..." I pointed with a sudden bolt of wisdom..."how many dead symbols have hurt people...worthless paperpushers, bean counters...people who were so focused on self preservation that they couldn't see who they were punishing with their own desire for youth? For not accepting their own incompetence? I knew my time was coming...I could see that I no longer had any fire. No drive..I was going to work because I was expected to go to work...not because I cared."
We stared each other down for a moment.
I narrowed my eyes as his stared blankly forward.
"I was a pistol loaded with blanks. If it ever came to the point where I was really needed to be what I was five years ago, I would have been completely ineffective. The mission of ending poverty has no room for people like me. Y'know, like Melencamp said 'If you're not part of the new road, get out of the way.'" I paused and considered whether I'd quoted him properly.
For a moment, the Heartless Bureaucrat's face softened.
"I just want to make people happy for a while." I admitted and stared at the tips of my knock off Italian/Dockers shoes.
"It's ok...I'll find another sucker." he giggled and the color returned to his face, flushing the desimated green and blue from his flesh. "Don't forget, making money doesn't mean you have a license to become an asshole." he pointed and smiled.
I cracked a grin, "Naw, I won't be an asshole...I've had enough of that with YOU in my life!" we giggled and laughed like the last scene of a 1980's sitcom.
"Hey, I wanna show you something." he said tenderly and his cold flesh grasped my hands and held them to my own throat. "You feel that?"
"What?" I blubbered uncontrollably as he placed my fingertips against my throat. For the first time since childhood, I felt movement there, restless and ongoing, with rhythm; a cadence that felt new, like someone was pressing from inside my neck to remind me they were there... "See...feel that? That's the difference between me and you...and that's what will make you good at this corporate crappy assed job of yours." he pressed my fingers hard against my throat. He smiled as he revealed the fundemental difference between myself and him...
So...this week started like pretty much every week. Way too much work, not enough time to complete the tasks at hand. But then I received a call on Tuesday that my fellow bandmate, Mog, had won tickets to see The Police playing a concert at the Sprint Center. We had floor seats:
Plus, Elvis Costello and the Attractions did a set which further alienated the "faithful" from the "fruitful." Tickets were priced at no less than $80.00 per seat.
Mr. Sting was in good form with his cut off shirt that...if you looked closely, you could see that his vegan/tantric lifestyle was still not preventing "teacher arms."
But we had a good time. Here...have a listen:
Today, we took a break from our normal routine and went to play a bit of Mud Volleyball.
Honestly, I was there to achieve the following goals: 1...get muddy...2....well...actually, I just went there to get muddy.
And that's what we did...Wednesday and I played on two teams together. Sure, we lost every game we played but that's just not the point. The point was to get muddy.
And muddy, we were.
Even Del felt the urge to dive into the mire...So...it's been fun so far...
Ok...I'm going to break from the ordinary narcisissm for a moment and talk about something different. I'm going to talk about money and the really crappy situation we're all in right now. Two figures: 1. Gasoline prices showed the highest difference in prices this year over last year according to the Energy Information Agency. That highest discrepancy was in April with a gaping $.71 per gallon difference over gas prices in 2007. So..in April, where you may have paid $2.77 per gallon to fill up a 15 gallon tank and paid $41.55, this year you're now paying 3.55 per gallon. So, for the same tank of gas, you're paying $53.25. Thats an extra cost of $11.70 per fill up. If you're a commuter, buying two tanks per week, that's 11.70 times 2 times fifty two...or...
$1216.80 per year MORE on gas than in 2007. That's just one car, kids. If you're like me, a 3 car family, you're really losin' money. But aren't you glad you went with the Subaru and not the Humvee?
2. Food inflation hit a record of 4% which is a record. It will hit 4.5% this year. Another record year. We're paying more for food not only due to high fuel prices but worldwide inflation that makes our piddly 4.5% seem like nuffin compared to rice prices in other countries.
Anyone getting a raise anytime soon that will be high enough to defray just these TWO cost indicators? Probably not.
So...don't panic. Here's what you do.
Start getting serious about spending less. Here's what I'm doing.
1. Eliminate dumb spending. Get on top of late bills and eliminate high interest loans and or unsecured debt. Pay off Christmas NOW! Also, is a billing schedule nickle and diming you to death with a 20 dollar fee every month? Look at that sucker over a span of a 7 year loan? Do you really want to pay 400 bucks a year for nothing? Think of all the gasoline you could buy..or a new bike...or clothes? Shoes!
2. Budget to the penny. That slush that you could just slosh through a year ago is gone. Disposable income across the middle class in the United states is less than 1% right now. No one has money! If you were competing to keep up with the Jonses, they're as poor as you.
3. There is no SHAME in having debt, folks. Don't treat your money like its an emotional thing. Its just business. If you've made mistakes, and we all have, don't worry about it. No guilt, just figure out a way to get things paid down and live slim for a while until either wages come up or inflation slows down.
Its gettin' bad out there, but if you can't increase your income, decrease your spending. Stay away from predatory lenders like credit cards, payday loans and other loansharks. And if you're in trouble, there are free or very low cost agencies that can help you comb things out.
Just a little PSA since I've been so damn quiet lately.
More from Phonyjam. Where I'm not quite so musically proud of this...its still funny. Yes, I missed my first few calls to the stage as I was outside talking. Anyhow...enjoy!
