Pynchon

So, "Crash" won best film. That's a surprise. A nice surprise. If I had been an Academy voter I would probably have gone for "Crash" or "The Constant Gardener". Of course, on my predictions (5 out of 8 Stef, not 4 - how dare you!) I was going for the one that I thought would win and not should win. That's my story and I'm sticking to it.

Work. It's shit, isn't it? Where was I? Thursday.

On Thursday I found out that I was going to lose one of my two main programming resources through redundancy. Here's a little test for you. If you were given the choice of keeping one of the following two guys, who would you choose? There is no correct answer.

Gay Harry. Old, big, friendly, amiable, lovely guy. A gentleman. The greatest Granddad that you never had. Big handlebar moustache. During the World War I he probably used to drink several Gin and Tonics before flying bi-planes against the Hun. His work? To be honest, a bit sloppy. Gay Harry doesn't always test probably and you have to check what he's done very carefully.

Gay Harry is the main application and fix programming resource for the first product that I support. I deal with him several times a day. He knows the product inside out and can always get me an answer given enough time. We all depend on Gay Harry a great deal.

Norman Grizzly. Horrible man. Rude, ignorant, bad tempered, arrogant, no people skills whatsoever. Thin as a rake and hairy with it. The thickest beard that I have ever seen. Hairy, mountain man. Can sometimes be seen on the roof catching pigeons and eating them live. But... The guy is a genius. I don't use that word lightly. Norman Grizzly is a genius. He knows everything. He never makes mistakes. He is psychotically committed to quality and never compromises in his work. Also, despite everything mentioned above, he is an incredibly good man. He and his appalling wife (I've met her) foster mentally handicapped children. He is a churchgoer. He is a first aider (a couple of years ago Gay Harry had a heart attack at work and I have no doubt that Norman Grizzly's quick actions saved his life). He is one of the company fire marshall's. He does work in his spare time for charity.

Norman Grizzly knows everything there is to know about the second product that I support. There are hardly ever any problems with that product and consequently I know next to nothing about the product. I deal with him occasionally, and once I've battled past his don't-bother-me persona, he is always gives me what I need. Norman Grizzly knows everything about the interface software between our UNIX systems and our Windows systems. He is always the first point of contact for everybody on those issues.

Who would you chose to stay and who would you choose to go?

A couple of weeks ago I was asked that question. I refused to choose. I told them that the Company needed both of them. I analysed them both much as I have written above. The Company chose Gay Harry to stay and Norman Grizzly to go.

It's appalling. I think with the departures of various staff members in in recent times, and the salary reductions as a result of that, also unnecessary. The opposite choice would have been equally as appalling. I have said as much. I have spoken to Gay Harry and he is quite upset, but also relieved. He is 3 years off retirement and he needs those last 3 years to pay off his mortgage. I never had a chance to speak to Norman Grizzly. By all accounts he doesn't seem to have taken it in and doesn't understand that in a month or two he will not have a job. My manager Orville Turd told me that he was going to speak to Norman Grizzly today to make sure that he does understand.

Work. It's shit, isn't it? Oh, I have said that before. Where was I? Friday.

On Friday the Managing Director Bill Smug made a rare visit to the Support Section. He had somebody with him that we had never seen before. A tall, tosslike, suited and booted guy. Smug and Tosser wandered around, laughing and joking. Smug explained some things, Tosser nodded intelligently. Smug got one of my colleagues to show Tosser our recent web based product. Fine so far. Then Smug asked for Tosser to be shown behind the scenes of our web based product, and he was. Really? Now that was interesting.

Later in the canteen of the the Tech Support guys sidled up to me and asked me if I knew who the Tosser was? I said that I didn't. "Do you want to know?" he asked me. I said that I did. "He's the CEO of the OPPOSITION!".

Ah...

Now, why would the CEO of our main competitor be being shown around our offices, shown our software, shown behind the scenes, be on apparently very friendly terms with our MD? Certain phrases come to mind like Merger or Takeover or Acquisition or Asset Stripping. Who's to say? The rumour mill has gone into overdrive. If they buy us they will have 90% market share of the product we specialize in. The only thing that could possibly stop that would be an objection by the monopolies and mergers commission. I have done a couple of searches on the web, but so far can find nothing relevant. So, no panic yet.

It still didn't stop me from feeling very depressed on Friday night. Lorraine was OK when she heard the news. She quite rightly pointed out that we have enough money to pay off a chunk of the mortgage straight away and to live happily for a few months, even if we did both lose our jobs. But I think that she is more portable than me and she knows it.

I don't like the Company. I don't suppose I have ever liked the Company, but I am lazy and it is always easier to do nothing, isn't it? I have decided to try to get another job. I am determined this time to leave and not get pushed. By all accounts the redundancy package that was given to the programmers upstairs was basic minimum and I am prepared to forego 1 weeks money for every year of employment for the pleasure in telling them to go fuck themselves.

On Saturday we went to London. It was a last minute thing. Lorraine had to change her dentist appointment last week, so we suddenly had a Saturday free. We never did anything much on Valentine's day, so we agreed to turn up at the half price ticket office in Leicester Square and book for whatever was available in the West End on the day as our Valentines Day gig.

In the end Lorraine chose "You Never Can Tell" at the Garrick Theatre, starring Edward Fox and Diana Quick (Bill Nighy's missus). Probably not what I would have chosen, but she was adamant that she wanted to see Edward Fox before he died. Charming. "You Never Can Tell" was written by Bernard Shaw and is an old fashioned, late Victorian era, battle of the sexes, battle of the generations comedy. It sparkled. Yes, it sparkled. It was just wonderful.

London was lovely. Very cold, but that didn't deter us. We walked everywhere. We went to Hamley's where I bought a 1940's and a 2000's Batmobile. (Did you know that I had an interest in collecting toy cars? No? Nor did I until Saturday.) We went to the Sherlock Holmes Pub on Northumberland Avenue and ate lots of food and got very drunk on a nice bottle of Fluerie. (I think that's how you spell it.) We went into lots of bookshops. We went into lots of coffee shops. Nice day. Really easy.

On Sunday Lorraine went to the hairdressers (she is blonde again!) and I went to see "Syriana".



"Syriana" is about Oil, the business of Oil and how the business of Oil affects governments and individuals. I thought it was interesting, but I wouldn't imagine that it will spend much time in British cinemas. Not exactly blockbuster material. I may be wrong. I was quite cheered by the fact that Cineworld at Five Ways put it into screen 5, which is fairly large, and there were not that many empty seats at a 3pm showing. Good performances from George Clooney (most definitely the man at the moment, who would have thought it?), Matt Damon and Jeffrey Wright.

Sunday night. "Just The Two Of Us" (Sian Reeves apparent public nervous breakdown paid off because she actually won the fucking thing despite the fact that she was dreadful), "24" (fantastic) and "Rescue Me" (even better). Then the Oscars. Went upstairs just as Lorraine was getting up. Got off (not literally, mind) watching her shower, much to her annoyance. Went to bed. Woke up after about 5 hours sleep to the sound of drilling, as my foxy next door neighbour Keren is having her windows replaced. Hoovered. Washed up. Showered. Here.

Gone.