Here’s a tale of the annual company barbecue.
The good news was that they had veggie burgers and the buns didn’t have egg in them! This was the second year that they did this, so that’s cool, but last year they had the veggie stuff in a totally different line than the rest of the food. Maybe it was the social stigma or something, but there was never a line for the veggie stuff, which means I ate twice as much in less than half the time. Maybe this year’s integration made it easier for people to say “you know what, give me the veggie burger”, but I figured a lot of people gave it a try last year just to save time. Unfortunately, the product they picked this year was one of those no-fat kinds, which when barbecued quickly reduces to the base components of hockey and puck.
Speaking of hockey, there was a raffle for a bunch of stuff, and one of the prizes was listed as “picture signed by [hockey player] Curtis Joseph”. Everyone assumed that the picture was of Curtis Joseph, but it’s quite possible that it was some sunset or something that Cujo autographed for no particular reason. That got me to thinking that the art world would be pretty funny if Wayne Gretzky bought the Mona Lisa and signed his name on it. Would the value go up or down?
Back the to BBQ, there was a logistical issue with the layout of the event. Everyone had to sit downwind of the grills. Any omnivores reading, do people actually enjoy being bathed in the ashes of dead animals? We were choking during some wind shifts, and it’s not like it smelled like anything remotely good; it was just smoke. Is it part of the macho art of the barbecue?
Keeping the BBQ – food – BBQ – food cycle going, there were also some games you could play to win fabulous prizes. I scored a bottle opener keychain, which is great, since my keys are literally on a loop of wire that comes open from time to time. I had to knock things down with bean bags to get that. There was another game where you had to hit a seesaw thing and launch something into a bag, and I didn’t get it in, but they gave me a prize anyway, because it would be one less thing for them to clean up later. It was a CD by Carole Pope, who people tell me was in Rough Trade, who people tell me sang High School Confidential. I picked it because someone else won one (legitimately), and we could be CD twins. When I got back to my desk I opened it up and put it in the CD drive to see what we were in for. Just as I was closing the drive something caught my eye and I had to open it up again. The CD was screen printed. My very conservative company had been giving away CDs with a picture of a naked woman on them. All afternoon. I spent the next hour showing people the company-approved naked lady. It was the funniest thing that happened that hour. I can’t wait for the feedback form to circulate:
What would you like to see more of next year?
Better veggie burgers.
Recycling boxes.
More CDs with naked women on them.
Actually, that would make for a good mission statement for my TV show company, which is now hard at work on some show about a penguin in the Sahara Desert. I know, it’s been done to death, but this penguin is the reincarnation of Jerry Garcia.
With ninjas.