"Mission Critical" - a symphonic essay in "four" movements

Movement I - Dolce stupidato

Memory #4 took place in late 1998. The Univ of Ga (pronounced exactly as it is spelled) was preparing itself for the then-surely-soon-to-be-disastrous Y2K. For the record, I don’t know how we ever got through that horrible morning. The traffic lights weren’t working*, the phones were down**, the television stations were scrambled in some weird sort of pattern that looked like a cross between a paisley and the face of Edward James Olmos*, and Blogger was down… huh. Weird.

I always thought Edward James Olmos's name sounded like "Edward James Almost." I always wondered if he had ever heard of Tantalus, or maybe felt like he was consistently just shy of acheiving his goals. Maybe it's just me.

Anyway, the university computing department was rapidly and diligently preparing for this impending disaster by classifying the importance of all of the university units’ computers as “Secondary” (or something like that) and “Mission Critical.” UCNS sent an email to that effect to all unit supervisors, asking that each classify his or her unit as one or the other.

When my supervisor (he was a Georgia Voter… woo hoo) responded to the email, he was insistent that the band was “mission critical.”

When the band cures cancer or gets a prominent athletic figure fired, then will I consider it mission critical. Until then, I will simply consider it “the way things ought to be.” That was, unfortunately, not an option.

Movement II – Presto Romannoodlo

I have been bursting my ars this evening doing a last minute (but pretty well-paying) gig for a high school in Missouri that Knight pumped me for in order to earn the extra grand that might make the year work. I am tired of arranging for now. I’m looking forward to getting sick of writing drill so I can arrange again.

Movement III – Maestoso Hollabacko

Sorry, but I dig the new Will Smith, the new Black Eyed Peas, the old Katie Holmes, and the new Gwen Stefani. I think it’s all scrumtrilescent.

Movement IV – Kenmo Whatthefucko

My washing machine was doing its job (which would be washing) just moments ago, when it suddenly began making a sound like an oboe with allergies. When I asked it “What up, G,” it just stared at me, like I was an idiot.

Well, everyone talks to their washing machine, so I demanded, and I mean demanded, an answer. I got none. There are few things I hate in life, but among them is getting the cold shoulder from an appliance. That is unasseptable.

I’ve got a feeling there’s more to this story.

Movement V – (Hidden Movement)

Chief commented on my blog today. I thought that was funny.

Notes:

* - This is not true.
** - This, likewise, is not true.
*** - Uh huh, that's right, except not.