Circadian

Can you tell something important about a person by what makes them cry?

I’m a sap, so it doesn’t take much. The last fifteen, twenty minutes of “Field of Dreams” for example, will have my crying. The end of the movie version of “Return of the King” can ruin me for an good half hour. And the helicopter rescue scene from Tom Clancy’s “Clear and Present Danger,” the part where Jack Ryan tells the Sergeant who is dying in his arms what he’s going to do when they get back home, will leave me wracked with such sobs that I ache after I’m through.

The one thing that will get me, really get me, without a single doubt, are scenes of people doing the right thing. When people do noble acts, when they are honored for their honor and their bravery and their selflessness, I’m done. Find me a cot somewhere to cry myself until I’m dry.

What, exactly, does that say about me?

We live in rough times. Job cuts have trickled down into my sector, and we’ve lost a huge number of staffers, effective with the end of the fiscal year. And man, have we handled that badly.

There is no nice way to nicely tell someone that they are losing their job. Even when they’ve not done anything to cause it, and that you, as the boss, have no choice in the matter. But there is no worse way, so far as I can tell, than to tell them that they’re done with the end of the year, and then leave them on the job.

I have never encountered so many “not my problem” people as I have in the last six weeks!

Last week I mentioned to my boss that another department had appeared to drop the ball on some Federal reporting. He brought it to the Executive Council this morning, and now I have a meeting with the boss’s boss and the rest of the parties involved. The person who was supposed to do the work – done June 30th. The woman she was supposed to order to do the work – “retiring” next week.

What we should have done – what would have been the only reasonable thing to do – would have been to furlough them immediately. Pay them for the rest of their contracted time, and send them on their way. There is nothing harder than trying to work with, and work around, people who don’t want to be there, don’t have any remaining loyalty, and no desire to do their jobs right anymore.

Oh, it’s not everyone. There’s one guy in particular that I see every now and again – he’s busting his butt all day every day, until he’s no longer an employee. And you know what? There’s a chance he’ll get his job back – maybe because of it.

Somebody who reads my blog suggested that maybe I should update it more often. I’m amazed that anyone noticed!

That somebody, who shall remain Kristin, knows just how to motivate a guy – guilt.

So, since I do have an audience, I will do my level best to post here a bit more often. Which means at least once in a while.

Okay, okay, how about every day?

Is there a name for people like me, who come to musical theater late in life?

Oh, sure, you can’t get through high school and college without some exposure, but I was never into it. Into It.

Now I find myself giddy while waiting for the opening night of Young Frankenstein when it comes to Denver (part of my birthday present this year), and I’m avoiding the most popular musical event ever – Glee – by watching my DVD of Sweeney Todd.

Todd is almost too easy, though. If you keep at it until you get to Helena Bonham Carter singing “The Worst Pies in London” and don’t get hooked by the dark, twisted, comic lyrics, you’re just not  half trying. Once you get to “Epiphany” you’re hooked for life.

It’s rarely the singing that does it, mind. It’s the wordplay. It’s the intricate puns and layers of meaning that do it for me.

So, is there a word for a man who’s nearly 40 before he starts really caring about musical theater?