A large part of my job is taking meetings, more often or not, you take them for the sake of taking them, little consequence during the meeting. It's having the meeting that is actually worthwhile, largely because it can facilitate actual more notable get togethers.

One of the periodicals that I buy advertising from has a suite down at the Arena and invited me down for Thursday night's Sabres game. Of course, I said yes. A chance to eat, drink, watch the game from privileged areas, what's not to love? It is a whole nother world from the regular stands. If you get the chance, even if you aren't a sport fan, I recommend it. At the arena, you transverse some secluded stairs to a private elevator to the suite floor, where it's carpeted and smells like somebody cares about it not being gross.

My domicle for the night had it's own coat check, opposite its own "Private" bathroom. As you walked in to the living room, the taco bar and adjoining wing/finger/popper chafing dish was full to the brim. It was basically thanksgiving with pub food. Across the room on the opposite counter were the pizza, cookies, and nacho chips with appropriate fixings (I mean who doesn't love fixins') I should point out that all these are done infinitesimally better than the overpriced slop at the concession stands. The hostess took great pains to point out that the fridge was stocked already and I should feel free to help myself. I gazed upon all the Molson Canadian, lined up like lil' volunteers, and felt that freedom.

I have seen sporting events poor, wealthy, and from across the hall, and Thursday night's wealthy was best. Between periods, a very serious looking intern brought us stats from what we just witnessed. I could step out on the veranda and gaze upon the great unwashed at the concession stands below. That is the beautiful thing. You don't need to be hockey fan at that level. It is a festival of people watching. I helped myself to one of the leather backed seats and enjoyed the view.














Nice view, huh? Sometimes it is good to be the client. A few moments of business that mercifully stopped once the game got rolling.

Nice way to segue into a long weekend. The halfway point of which finds me not doing a whole lot. Number one son turned 11 yesterday so all extraneous stuff is centered around him, as it should be. Let there be cake.

I'm beginning to think that Human Resources people and Insurance customer service people are in cahoots, to make actual healthcare providers look bad and drive policy holders out of their gourds with unnecessary angst.

Witness this little incident: The former spouse ("Splif" if you will) took our youngins to the dentist only to be told that GHI won't pay their part because I still have Met Life for a provider as well. I haven't had Met Life for anything since October of 200andfreaking7"!!!! I, incorrectly think, that it would make sense to go to source, Met Life and advise them of their error. Their pointless customer service line (that name must be a joke) kicks me to the agent on duty. I tell Jimmy Olsen my story and that thanks to privacy laws I need one company to tell the other that the first company no longer has an affliation with me. He supposedly goes to work on this, but I think he resumes working on his xbox. A series of phone calls and voice mail messages and a week go by. I call his scrawny little self (you tell from the voice) and he admits that he cannot get further access, because of the policy group. The policy group can't find me. (You think it's because I left a year and half ago?!??!?!?). I hang up (impolite I know) and call GHI, verify all my information, the splif's information, etc.

You would think that would be enough to get the Met Life crap off the files so we can get the dental costs taken care of once more. Oh, gentle reader, you'd be sadly mistaken. I have to fill out one more form and get it into the mail to finally get this shit over with. Said form is already in transit attesting to my lack of insurance in the mail.

The hoops you have to fucking leap through. If the president wants to bring down health cares costs, I know where he can start. Leave the medical pros alone and attach where it is really running amuck like bloating H.R. departments in cable companies that will not be named and semi-informed customer care people who aren't attuned to what is happening off the web page they are staring at while they should be working.

Had I known the cable pig screwed up my insurance, my Bell's Palsy battle might have been a little cheaper. Watch them all, because the billing people need to know they are being watched

Sometimes it's hard not to bring your work home with you. This is one of newest residents of the Rainforest and is disturbingly cute.
Say hi to Mochiba. He's a baby Howler Monkey.



About three weeks old. This is a good gig. I saw the new polar bear yesterday. 1000 pounds of bear is a lot of bear. Picts to come.

Sunday, sunday, in the office -- Yee ha!

We've got a big cat themed day going on here at the house of fun so I had to be here to oversee some grad students who working on that but also I project I gave them to help marketing to older potential customers.

The newest attraction isn't officially out yet. I think he will make his media debut tomorrow, so you get a sneak peek. He is a big boy and the resident bear is practically throwing herself at him. Like a typical guy, it is taking him some time to get the hint. About an hour before these pictures were taken, I think he is getting the idea. I can only imagine what parents might have had to say to young inquiring minds had the place been opened.

Check out the post-coital bliss.



















The things you see on the way to getting a Friday off.

It's been one of those discombobulated weeks.

I've actually escaped all the winter colds and maladies, despite the shrinkage inducing weather of late until last week. until last week. Work has been busy so I came home sort of wiped out and wimped out on class. The next day, it hit and that sucked.

Staggered through work and basically was a hermit over the weekend. I finally got rid of it with an old family recipe. When I was 17, and down with a bad case of brochitis, my dad got exasperated and regular meds and gave me a bourbon and seven up high ball, but filled in a root beer mug. Slept for 13 hours after that. Recreated that over the weekend and it worked like a charm. Only down side was that it made for a 9 day gap in yoga classes. So, I was dreading going back last night. You could feel regression coming, but I'm apparently tougher than I look. Only had to pause twice which was better than I anticipated.

So, there might hope yet.

Been listening to the new U2 album and am letting it grow on me. They've been a favorite for a long time and it was a kick watching them laugh a little to start their week long residency on Letterman
After shoveling the Manhattan snow, they did get down to work a little later.

Fun to see and all, but my mental jury is still out on the album. Should be fun live if they come this way.

Just got back from lunch after hiding from the many conservative republicans here. In their eyes, the economy didn't go into the dumper until January 20th, we didn't have a deficit until then, and the acceptable war bill suddenly became a bad stimulus bill we couldn't afford. Hindsight is not only 20/20, but apparently prone to myopia as well.

Hey, this is my 500th journal. This is my longest continuing dialogue with anything that I didn't have to give an allowance to. Hopefully there has been something worth reading along the way. Just noticed that.

Gonna go apologize to Rush Limbaugh because that seems to be the thing to do these days.

Happy hump day, peeps