Effluvia

The latest former employer.

I had a Commodore 64 once. It was cool.

These guys are stupid.

Bygone Days
Uncensored!

125 YEARS AGO
July 21, 1875

The Memphis harbor tugboat N.M. Jones last evening had a large crowd aboard a barge for a moonlight trip up the Mississippi River.

One member of the crowd was selected to be sacrificed to the River God on the return trip. His throat was cut and his body dropped in the river.

"Good crops this year," the captain whispered, licking the blood from his knife.

Boss Kenny

"You're leaving for New Orleans? Very good."

One Year Ago
I go swimming.

Another quick, pre-Friday departure entry.

I went back down to New Orleans Tuesday afternoon - I drove through horrible thunderstorms between Jackson and Lake Ponchartrain, complete with blinding lightning that seemed close enough to touch.

A man was killed by that lightning the same afternoon. You're safe from lightning in a car, right?

I also was passed on the interstate by a big, farm-type truck, driven by a middle-aged woman and covered with Britney Spears stickers. Britney is from that region. A relative, perhaps?

I was listening to sports talk radio once I got to southern Mississippi, 'cause they talk about the Saints a lot. Some guy called in and he sounded just like Adam Sandler's "Cajun Man" character. He wasn't joking, though.

I checked into the hotel about eight and, after calling the Wife and a few apartment ads from that day's paper, I strolled over to Igor's for a nerve-settling drink. I quizzed the staff on apartment hunting, and the bartender gave me a free drink.

Incidentally, Shawn had given me a free haircut earlier in the day. It was like my birthday, only early.

So Wednesday morning I got up early to go meet dude at some apartments on Magazine Street, semi-bohemian area in the Garden District thats seen lots of renovation in the last few years. I was standing in front of the hotel, waiting for the valet to bring my car around, when I saw an old couple walking my way. The woman had on a tropical print knit set and several fanny packs. The man had on long brown shorts, a button-down short sleeve shirt, black socks, loafers and three cameras around his neck. I think they might have been tourists.

This place I looked at was only a one bedroom, true (we'd hoped for two 'cause we anticipate lots of visitors) but the one bedroom was roomy, plus they have secure parking (important for the Wife's convertible), a balcony and a pool. I was impressed.

Then I went to the French Quarter to meet a real estate guy and look at his listings. The Quarter is frustrating on a workday morning, with lots of construction, blocked streets, one way streets and tourists obliviously stepping off the curb and into the street to look at the quaint balconies. I tried to park in front of a hotel, but they ran me off. I called the guy to tell him I couldn't make it and called the woman who represents the first apartment and told her I wanted to put down a deposit. So I did. Then I came home.

We drive back down tonight - to Thibodaux, actually, to see the Saints do their intra-squad scrimmage. This was my birthday present before all the drama started. Then Saturday Sonya will see the apartment and we will sign the lease - this will be the true test. Kathy's having a going-away thing for us Sunday night, and then the rest of the week will be a long, non-stop session of goodbye-sayings and packing. I'm not looking forward to it. My new employer will be getting one frazzled young man when I start the next job.

And it was my last day at the old job today. The coworkers took me and Dave (another quitter) to lunch, and then we paraded through the office, carrying our boxes full of stuff from our cubes, saying farewell to various and sundry coworkers. We caught our boss on the phone with the recruiter who had talked us in to this job in the first place and razzed them both thoroughly.

That's where we stand. More news Sunday, maybe, but definitely next week, when I will be unemployed.