Our Thanksgiving was very nice and peaceful. I hope yours was, too. Lisa B went home to Pennsylvania for the holiday and returned with her mother who has spent a couple of days here knitting while Lisa works. It's nice to have a Mom at the office to make sure Lisa eats all her veggies before she treats herself to dessert at lunch time. I remember once a few years ago my Mom came with me to work with me when I was at CompuServe. My boss popped his head into my office and said, "I'll be gone next week so you'll be in charge."
I swear to God, my Mom broke into a panic. She looked at him in terror and asked, "Are you sure you want to do that?" This is why NOBODY has a "Take Your Mom to Work Day."
I've think I've got bad news about Vincent the Squirrel. He seems to have disappeared despite the loads of peanuts we were feeding him everyday. We haven't seen him in about a week, so I'm going to pretend that he's found a better place (perhaps once that serves walnuts) because I cannot bear to think that he's...well...I can't even bear to type it.
I've got really, really good news about the Snow Leopard Trust that we support. Yesterday I received a letter from Marissa that Yarnmarket friends and shoppers helped the group win the grand prize in BBC's World Challenge. That means they're getting a $20,000 grant to continue their good works to save the enormous pussycats. Isn't that fantastic? You can read about them here, if you like. Those of you who want to buy the 2012 Snow Leopard Calendar to help contribute to the charity can find it at Yarnmarket. I think it would make a really nice gift. Don't you?
I have to admit I've been spending more time than I should on the Jack the Cat and American Airlines Facebook pages. I was so upset about Jack the Cat being lost at JFK...and then I was elated when he was found...and then I was devastated when he died. Throughout the incident I kept thinking that American Airlines wasn't handling the situation very well. I know that a lot of their employees were doing everything they could to find Jack, and they were very supportive of Karen (Jack's owner). But the executives seemed to think the situation wasn't deserving of their attention.
Boy, I tell you, if I'd been an executive at AA I would have pulled out all the stops to find that cat, ensure no other pussycat or dog is ever lost again, and then I'do whatever I had to do so people would know I'm not a heartless, uncaring, EBITDA-obsessed creep.
Unfortunately, Gerard Arpey, the former CEO of American Airlines, isn't like me.
So, I'm going to confess that I'm not a nice person at all because I leapt up from my computer and yelled "Wooohooo!" when I read that he'd "retired." That's Corp-Speak for, "They tossed his sorry backside out the door." The only part that bugs me about his departure is that his salary in 2009 was $5 million. (Heck, I could bankrupt an airline for 1/10th that amount!) If he made $5 million per year, he's going to get a really good severance package, isn't he? I'll bet he gets at least $10 million to hit the tarmac and never darken their jetway again.
Now, if it's worth about $10 million for a guy like Gerard Arpey to not work at American Airlines, how much do you think it would it be worth to not have me run the company? $20 million? $30 million? $40 million and a lifetime supply of peanuts? I would think so.
Oh, seeing as how I'm confessing to my dark, ugly side...there's something I need to get off my chest. I wrote something mean on American Airline's PR agency's Facebook page. I couldn't help it! A box popped up that said, "Recommend Weber Shandwick." So I did. I wrote, "This is the agency for you if you killed somebody's cat."
I see that they finally took my recommendation down...but it was up for at least a week.
The next time I fly I'm going to be carrying the Jack the Cat bag I bought from CafePress. Proceeds go to help other pussycats and dogs that need homes. Mary Beth, who started the Jack the Cat Facebook page, has done a fantastic job of helping other animals in the wake of Jack's tragic death. If I were Weber Shandwick I'd hire her because she knows how to get people to care, and then act on their feelings. I paid $18 for a canvas sack with a picture of a very sick cat on it. Imagine what Mary Beth could do for a company like American Airlines! She'd have people sending money to buy Gerard a new yacht for his retirement.
As of next Friday, Alex and I will have been married 30 years. This proves:
a. I don't know how to use a gun;
b. Alex hasn't yet found the right poison;
c. You eventually do build up an immunity to one another's germs;
d. Of the billions upon billions of people on this planet, I'm the only one who wants Alex and he's the only one who wants me;
e. Those people who made bets that our marriage wouldn't last a year have long lost their money;
f. My mother was wrong;
g. His mother was right;
h. Love not only means not having to say you're sorry, it also means not having to say, "I plead not guilty, your honor."
To be honest, we probably have a better marriage than most. This is for two reasons:
1. I don't listen to a word he says.
2. He doesn't pay attention to a thing I do.
Alex is going to surprise me with a trip on our 30th Anniversary. He won't tell me where we're going. So how am I supposed to pack? Do I bring SPF 900 or Chapstick? Walking shoes, running shoes, sandals or mukluks? My 120 volt hairdryer with two prongs or my 240 hairdryer with three prongs? (If it's the 240 with 3 prongs, which prongs are they? The ones for Europe or the ones for Britain?) Do I bring an umbrella and Pantene Anti-Frizz Shampoo, Pantene Smoothing Conditioner, John Frieda's Frizz-Ease Serum, Elnette hairspray and a flat iron or do I bring a toque?
Men don't understand how complicated it is to be a woman...with sensitive skin, tender feet and frizzy hair.
So far he has told me only this: I have to be up at 4:00 a.m. to catch the plane. That's four hours after midnight. To catch a plane. In the cold and dark. Not even knowing where I'm going. With, perhaps, the wrong hair dryer.
Sweet? Yes. Considerate. Maybe. Romantic? I hope not. I never feel sexy when my hair's a frizzy mess.