Posted on by bob

Are You Not Entertained?

Friends,

The workload over the past several days has been sparse, so I have offered my time to assist my colleagues in the UK with their projects. Knowing that they probably don’t have anything ready to go, I’ve been adding some other service in Microsoft Teams, like picking paint colors or offering dinner suggestions. Today, I offered a bedtime story, which they enthusiastically requested.

I’d like to present it to you as it was presented to them, so I’m going to supply screen shots with the story in ALT text. That way, if you have a screen reader, you can follow along.

I flavor the story early in the chat with the post image you see at the top. Okay, here we go…

A Bedtime Story Once upon a time near the end of the last century, my brother and I both lived in San Diego. I lived inland, while my little brother lived in a tiny house perched on Sunset Cliffs in Ocean Beach with his insufferable practice wife.One morning in September, he called in a panic. His refrigerator had died and he needed a replacement quickly, before the contents of the freezer thawed. We both had good luck with the scratch n' dent selection at Aztec Appliance downtown, and he'd already made a selection. Now, how to get the new fridge to his home without driving on the freeway. We believed then, and the whispers from old wives somehow persist, that refrigerators must always be upright. Always. Never on their side. Something about refrigerant and compressors and cavitation, something. All we knew before we knew better was that his Isuzu Rodeo would not do. Time to call the cavalry. The one that drives a 1973 Jeep Commando.

If you take a look at the pretty blue Commando above (which is not mine), you'll see a small, refrigerator-sized space behind the front seats. We loaded the big box with the gash in its side, lashed it to the roll bar with bungee cords and set off on our trek to the beach without using freeways. I had been fiddling with the Jeep's electrical system, but the fuel gauge still wasn't working. I certainly didn't want to run out of gas on the freeway, and I wasn't entirely sure the bungee cords would hold at speed. Southern California, cruising with the top down, living our best lives—with a refrigerator. Then we turned onto Texas Street. Its 15% grade is daunting for drivers of new cars. How about the Jeep without power brakes? Who options a new car without power brakes? Good question. Someone who drives on flat roads at walking speeds, I suspect.

As we headed down into Mission Valley and speed picked up, my little brother gave me a panicked glance, 'Are you going to slow down?' 'I'm considering it!' as the brake pedal became mushy then stopped having any effect. Red light at intersection at the bottom of the hill. Four cars stopped there, but not us. Our speed was increasing and people were still stopped in front of us. I started swerving to try and scrub off some speed, but the refrigerator had changed our center of gravity. Would we crash? Would we flip over? Is there a soft place to land? Will the stop light ever change? Will my little brother stop yelling at me to stop?

(Since I was also in a video call, it took a little while to finish up. My colleagues were not amused.)

YES? YES???? AND...? I can feel the tension. 'Then I died' The End COME ON!

I tried to downshift, but the old truck transmission was not having it. Will the marginal emergency brake work? Will the stop light ever change? It has to change, right? Oh look! There's an open left turn lane. I swerved and laid on the horn, which hadn't worked in a while but chose today to do something useful. My little brother screamed, 'What the fuck are you doing!' and the light turned as the big bumper crossed the line. There's a soft shoulder not too far past this intersection where we finally came to rest. 'Dude, that was fucked up. You drive like an asshole.' 'Are you alive? Are you sure? Then shut the fuck up.' And that, friends, is how I got out of hauling his new refrigerator up two flights of stairs.

And that, dear friends, is a fun way to entertain a group of jaded copywriters in the middle of a meeting.

Your pal,

– bob