Wednesday, April 27, 2005

Back to the Middle and Around Again

As promised before my trip to Ohio, Brad and I recorded a cover of Anita Ward's "Ring My Bell" which can be heard here. And when I say "Brad and I recorded," I mean, of course, that Brad made all the music, told me what to sing and when to sing it, and put the microphone in front of my face. I'm pleased with the way "Ring My Bell" turned out, but to be honest we mainly did it to please you, our blog-reading public. The spirit was actually moving us in a different direction.

A kind of cabbage-patch-in-your-neon-leggings-at-the-middle-school-dance direction.

You can listen to our cover of Crystal Waters' "100% Pure Love" here.

To those of you who have never heard my speaking voice and suspect I actually sound like the nutjob performance I turned in for the Crystal Waters cover: fear not. I'm actually way shriller in person.

Anyway, enjoy.

Just overheard from an editor's phone conversation: "You better stop it...you're getting me all juiced up, here." Then the door slammed shut. The conversation started with "Hey, what's up baby," which when pieced together with that last slimy nugget leaves me wondering whether he's paying $2.99 a minute or just really chummy with his authors.

Either way, the things I'm forced (forced!) to imagine are occuring behind his office door fall somewhere between "unsavory" and "Syrup of Ipecac." The fundamental difference between supervisors and their entry-level employees is not in the amount of inappropriate activity enjoyed during work hours (which I venture to say is an equally huge chunk of time regardless of rank) but instead a dedication to keeping up appearances. Not having a door--or even walls that reach past your armpits--equips one with the ability to appear highly productive and engrossed in work-related tasks at any moment, even if the prior moment was totally occupied by internet personals.

Perhaps we cubicle-dwellers are paranoid, constantly checking over our shoulders for whoever might be reading our screens, but I'd rather suffer that than Picking-Your-Nose-In-The-Car Syndrome. Just because a manager sits in an enclosed space doesn't mean the rest of the office can't see (or hear) him.

The editor's door is open again, and he's on another phone call that I can only assume is with a male buddy. He was just joking about how his (ex?) wife rules his children like "an iron curtain," and trying to convince the buddy to come along on one of his weekend trips with them. "Come on," he wheedled, "my son's awesome! And, you know, my daughter's...kinda cool."

A career in scientific publishing: destroying the myth that your parents love you one loud phone call at a time.

3 Comments:

Blogger Kunaxa said...

Nice - Does Crystal W have some verses in there, or is that entirely you?! (in which case, you should consider going into some sort of 'I-sound-like-a-Black-Dance-Song-Diva' career). Either way, good job by the both of you.

So... Who goes home tonight?

5:40 PM  
Blogger What'sHerFace said...

All me (except for the parts that are obviously Brad), but I'll let Crystal stay in charge of bad dance music.

Scott Savol. No question.

7:04 PM  
Anonymous Mike said...

100% Pure Awesome! You guys have a sort of new wave Captain and Tennille thing goin' on (I mean that in the most positive way).

8:50 AM  

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