Thursday, September 22, 2011

Seriously

Staring out of this 18th floor window, the sky is an upside down blanket of dark grey that has left the end of the horizon uncovered. Below me is a river that is little more than a canal and headlights fly over the bridges reminding me that life goes on.

"Ob-la-de Ob-la-da" I say out loud as the morning prayer.

The sun will peak between the tree tops and the blanket of clouds then it will go back to sleep. I sip coffee and watch the day being born.

"You look like Einstein," Caroline said after hugging me last night, then she played with the back of my hair which is in that in-between length of half way to the top of my shoulders.

"I'll take Einstein," I say laughing and then embracing Dave her husband. He and I sneak off for beers during these things.

Caroline is the person who is really in charge of the Robert Wood Johnson Foundation's Local Funding Partnership program. On the org chart there are many people above her, but she's really the one. I learned a long time ago that it is far more important to have a good relationship with the Administrative Assistant than it is the CEO. Caroline can make anything happen or bring everything to a screeching halt should she decide.

The first time I went to Congress I wandered into then Representative Lindsey Thomas's office. The intern/secretary was sitting there and asked what I wanted.

"I have an appointment to see the Congressman," I explained. "Sorry that I'm late."

She asked who the hell I was so I told her.

"Hmmm," she explained looking at her computer and her notes, "I don't see your name."

The empty desk in the Cannon Office building office across from hers belonged to someone named Trish who wasn't there.

"Trish made the appointment," I explained.

"Oh," she said.

Ten minutes later I was sitting across from Lindsey.

We had nice chat and our relationship grew to the point where we would sit on the beach drinking cold beers together until the point of mutual sunburns.

That's how the world works.

"I got you out of stuff," Caroline explains.

"Oh yeah?"

"You work all day tomorrow but Friday's yours," she says.

It is hard not to love Caroline.

Stumbling into the ball room I'm hugged by Matthew from Houston and take my seat between Fernando from Philly and Namratha from Chicago. We are the rainbow ... black, brown, yellow and white. We crack each other up. So after the "How's it going?" question is answered ... we play during the program ... giggling like grade-schoolers duing the Principal's speech.

Part of living a successful life is thumbing your nose at conventionality. This is the tie that binds us. We do just enough to be accepted and needed for things ... but balance it with the never ending question ... "Seriously?"

Most people are far too serious.

OK, it's time to get ready. It's a big day Caroline has told me. I stare at my suitcase looking at the work clothes that I brought. I haven't worn them since I left Union Mission.

Then I look at the jeans I wore yesterday.

I put on the jeans.

OK, I have a speech to give.

I wonder what it will be about.

Seriously.

Seriously

Staring out of this 18th floor window, the sky is an upside down blanket of dark grey that has left the end of the horizon uncovered. Below me is a river that is little more than a canal and headlights fly over the bridges reminding me that life goes on.

"Ob-la-de Ob-la-da" I say out loud as the morning prayer.

The sun will peak between the tree tops and the blanket of clouds then it will go back to sleep. I sip coffee and watch the day being born.

"You look like Einstein," Caroline said after hugging me last night, then she played with the back of my hair which is in that in-between length of half way to the top of my shoulders.

"I'll take Einstein," I say laughing and then embracing Dave her husband. He and I sneak off for beers during these things.

Caroline is the person who is really in charge of the Robert Wood Johnson Foundation's Local Funding Partnership program. On the org chart there are many people above her, but she's really the one. I learned a long time ago that it is far more important to have a good relationship with the Administrative Assistant than it is the CEO. Caroline can make anything happen or bring everything to a screeching halt should she decide.

The first time I went to Congress I wandered into then Representative Lindsey Thomas's office. The intern/secretary was sitting there and asked what I wanted.

"I have an appointment to see the Congressman," I explained. "Sorry that I'm late."

She asked who the hell I was so I told her.

"Hmmm," she explained looking at her computer and her notes, "I don't see your name."

The empty desk in the Cannon Office building office across from hers belonged to someone named Trish who wasn't there.

"Trish made the appointment," I explained.

"Oh," she said.

Ten minutes later I was sitting across from Lindsey.

We had nice chat and our relationship grew to the point where we would sit on the beach drinking cold beers together until the point of mutual sunburns.

That's how the world works.

"I got you out of stuff," Caroline explains.

"Oh yeah?"

"You work all day tomorrow but Friday's yours," she says.

It is hard not to love Caroline.

Stumbling into the ball room I'm hugged by Matthew from Houston and take my seat between Fernando from Philly and Namratha from Chicago. We are the rainbow ... black, brown, yellow and white. We crack each other up. So after the "How's it going?" question is answered ... we play during the program ... giggling like grade-schoolers duing the Principal's speech.

Part of living a successful life is thumbing your nose at conventionality. This is the tie that binds us. We do just enough to be accepted and needed for things ... but balance it with the never ending question ... "Seriously?"

Most people are far too serious.

OK, it's time to get ready. It's a big day Caroline has told me. I stare at my suitcase looking at the work clothes that I brought. I haven't worn them since I left Union Mission.

Then I look at the jeans I wore yesterday.

I put on the jeans.

OK, I have a speech to give.

I wonder what it will be about.

Seriously.