• Surprise

    Jane

    Jane found herself in an extremely good mood today. Usually around her birthday she would go into an unexplained funk.  She and Jack were having a grand-old time decorating Jack’s living room.  The music flowed and her good mood seemed to rub off on Jack. They stood on sofas and tables hanging balloons in every possible place a balloon could be hung. The roomed bordered on comical, with an edge.

    Jack has always had a thing for Jane, and they seemed to have grown closer over the last couple of weeks. He was especially happy to be spending the day with her even though it was on a convoluted false pretense.  Impressed by his own cleverness, he hoped she appreciated his creativity toward her. His was a random mind, and usually when he had a half-baked idea, he usually ran with it. Why overthink anything.

    More than likely unknown to Jane, was the fact that Jack had playfully fooled her into helping with a party he was throwing for her. The music of the Velvet Underground filled the room while they prepared the room with an abundance of color and splash. They both loved the music and much to his surprise she has kissed him warmly once or twice. They seemed to be melting together slowly.

    Jack walked over to the kitchen cabinet and secured two small tumblers and a filled each, with a single sparkling ice cube as Jane continued preparing the room for the looming surprise party. She finished hanging a lime green Happy Birthday banner above the door leading into the kitchen and flashed Jack a suggestive grin.

    “Suzanne will be here in an hour or so.  Hopefully Warren will get his act together and get here on time.” Jack said as he looked her directly in the eye while smiling nervously.

    “Yeah I don’t anticipate her expecting anything. She is not the type to get caught up in birthdays.”  Jane added as she gestured toward the ice filled glasses sitting on the table.

    “Fill up those glasses, I would like to take the edge off. surprise parties freak me out.” She said as she ran her hands through Jack’s thinning hair.

    “Why are surprise parties such a spot of bother for you?” Jack said as he filled the glass from a collection he saved for special occasions, He lamented briefly how few special occasions he had recently.

    She took a long slow slip letting the flavor  of the moment overtake her. Her belly tingled in a comfortable way.  She winked briefly at jack and grabbed him by his glass filled hand. He smiled and followed her to his bedroom, it was a quizzical unexpected turn of events in Jack’s hyperbolic world. Still he followed.

    They were rather nervous around each other as they eagerly touched each other, unleashing either a sense of obligation or pent up building enthusiasm for each other.  Jane was surprised by how far she is letting herself go as Jack slid his hand tenderly up her dress.  It felt good to her as she set let herself relax allowing the afternoon to go where it was going to go. A ring of the doorbell brought her to her back to reality.

    “Look at the time, it looks like the foreplay to the party have arrived.”  Jack said as he awkwardly, with a degree of difficulty,  zipped up his pants.  Jane adroitly brushed up, and quickly downed the drink Jack prepared twenty minutes prior. She picked up Jack’s drink from the bedside table, kissed Jack on the cheek, and walked toward the front door. She kicked a purple balloon that must have fallen from the wall. Soon after,  another violet balloon fell from the wall. The doorbell rang again above some cackles and guffaws.

    She opened the door and there stood a gang of losers. There stood, people laughing and having a good time, showing up exactly as they had planned.

    She gave them all a high five and told them the beer was on the cooler on the back deck.

    Like a poorly placed hanging curveball,  Jessi her sassy work friend chortled back, – “I hear Jack has a very nice deck.”

    Jane playfully glared back at Jessi and asked where Ahmed was with the rest of the beer.

    “He’s standing on the corner suitcase in his hand. Ahmed was in a rock and roll band.”

    “Of course, he is, that is what he does.”

    Ahmed gave her a warm hug as he carried his suitcase into the house. “Sweet Jane, it is always good to see you. Suzanne should be here shortly; this should be an epic surprise.”

    “I know, everything has worked to plan.” Jane said as she released Ahmed’s embrace.

    “Surprise parties freak me out. If somebody threw me a surprise party, I would detest it.  I hate being the center of attention. It is inherently awkward.” Jane replied.

    “Suzanne loves this kind of thing; she is going to dig the party.” They exchanged a furtive glance.

    When they returned to the living room, Jack , noticing Warren and Suzanne getting out of their car.  You could always hear a Volkswagen bus coming a block away. He quietly ushered everybody to their seats and walked to meet Warren in the front yard. He nonchalantly  showed Warren and Susie, the spices he had planted a few weeks earlier.

    The three walked in talking,  and Jane yelled out “SURPRISE”. Hers was the only voice to yell out SURPRISE.

    There was awkward silence in the room until Jessi let out a slight giggle, then a little louder giggle. And soon others in the room started the same pattern of giggling. Soon most of them were laughing hysterically fueled by each other’s laughter.  As if by a silent signal, the laughter stopped somewhat suddenly.

    As if on cue, everybody in the room turned toward jane and shouted ‘HAPPY BIRTHDAY’

    It was Jane’s turn to laugh and that is what she did. She laughed hysterically and with great relief knowing Jack and her friends have played a damn clever joke on her.  She loved this kind of chicanery.

    And it kind of hit her suddenly. “I think Jack really likes me.”

    This made her giggle. It made her happy. She was surprised.

    J

     

     

     

     

     

     

     

     

  • The Badge

    Nancy

    Searching for a job is something that deprives us of our dignity, if you let it. And eventually one finds a job and, we move on from that loss of dignity in unpredictable ways. There are so many factors in our life that determine how one moves on. In retrospect, this also applies how we move on after a break up of a relationship. That is we either grow from the experience or we get mired in the mud.

    Jack he was a banker recently laid off from his job at a major bank in upstate New York. He had recently emerged relatively unscathed from a non-contentious divorce from his long time partner Jane. Still he landed on his feet, with less battle scars than the situation merited.

    It was a lazy Saturday morning after a crazy pleasant week at work. Jack loved his job and especially loved the escape that was the weekend. Weekends were meaningless when he was between jobs. Now they meant a lot to him.

    After a breakfast of toast and strawberry jam, Jack reached into a drawer by his bedside table to find a pair of new shoelaces for his running shoes. While looking for the laces, he noticed a bright yellow badge from a company he had interviewed with a few months’ back. This was his desired company on his job search. He felt he nailed the interviews and had more than the desired skill set. In retrospect, he was happy not to land that job. He was happy where he was and could not imagine being more satisfied elsewhere.

    He looked at that badge for longer than he anticipated, and felt a certain pang of guilt. He thought to himself, he should have returned that badge.

    On his way to work the on Monday he decided to stop by the firm who is the sole owner of that badge. It was on his way to work, and he just felt like it was the right thing to do. Somebody somewhere was in charge of accounting for all those badges. He did have a whimsical quick second thought just because his mind worked that way. That badge is cursed; he who dons it the next time will fall to the curse of the badge. He just had to return that badge. Maybe somewhere lurking in the back of the Centrally Process Unit inside his head, he wanted to make an appearance. He wanted to let them know he was doing fine.

    He walked in and he was greeted by  a super bubbly overdressed young man, manning the front desk. He had a tattoo on his neck, which was of a drawing of the Nancy character from a comic strip that ran in the newspaper many years ago. He had to chuckle, as he walked up to the desk. It felt like before work hours and there was very little activity happening. Despite the small sampling size, I guess it is actually true that bankers keep banker hours.

    “Hi there, I interviewed here a while ago and I never returned this badge.”

    He slid the badge slowly across the table and the receptionist slid it into his left shirt pocket. His shirt was actually pretty cool as it contained two front pockets. Neither pocket contained a pencil.

    “Wow half the badges I gave out for interviews never come back. You may be the first person ever to actually return a badge.”

    This intrigued him, this glimpse into the human psyche. He never considered the chaos that is a job interview. He felt a little bit silly for returning the badge.

    He was sitting at his desk later that same day and his cell phone rang. He usually ignores cell phone calls in the office. They were usually sales calls of some sort. However, he recognized the number as the hiring manager from the bank that did not hire him. They were the owners of the badge.

    “Hello”

    Hey Jack, this is Lou Sanderson” The silence on the line was deafening.

    “Hi Lou nice to talk to you.” He said in a frisky voice, more than curious to what was going on. He relished the moment a little, as he now had a little more control afforded to a job search.

    “Thanks for returning the badge. That happens rarely. I realize we didn’t hire you. I know there is a certain bitterness you must hold. Anyway, we are impressed by your tenacity and original approach. We would like you to come in and discuss some opportunities with us.”

    Jack sat and listened with a certain air of disbelief. He response was measured and was delivered like he had practiced it many times before.

    “Thank you, I simply wanted you to have your badge back. It seemed like the right thing to do at the time.”

    “No thanks, I am happy where I am. Please take care of that badge. ”

     

     

     

     

     

     

     

  •  

    Jack he was a thinker, Jane she was a clerk.  Jane she worked at Trader Joe’s, he toiled at the headquarters of Enigma Puzzle in downtown Rochester, New York. Jack was a master of many trades, an expert at none. Jane she worked so she could live. For Jack work was his everything. That is a bit hyperbolic as Jane is the apple of his eye.  Jane never caught that vibe from Jack as,

    Then they come home from work.
    Sittin’ by the fire…
    Radio just played a little classical music for these kids –

    And Jack is checking his mobile device for texts and emails from his work.

    Jack’s off today.

    He probably did earlier and this may explain his detachment,

    Jack’s work was a puzzle, an enigma to her. Jack worked in quality control at Enigma Puzzle. He worked on the loading dock and later manufacturing at Enigma while going to college. Upon graduation, he was asked to stay on in an increased capacity. Enigma liked to keep it in the family and additionally they did not have to sink their resources into finding another person to fill the position of (PBRM) Puzzle Buyer Relationship Manager.

    Jack accepted this position even though Enigma only offered him a modest pay raise. It was more than enough for him to get by.  He drove a hard bargain as they gave him two weeks vacation to start. He asked them to throw in a bunch of stock options, which, at the time, were virtually useless.

    Jack took pride in his work and emerged as an energetic burst to the management team at Enigma.  He was a determined problem solver and often worked on solving work problems once he could do his real thinking. That is when he came home from work. That was until he became the relationship manager at Enigma.

    He had complete faith in the manufacturing and quality control at Enigma. It was the absolute attention to detail. It can take up to 10 weeks just to make a die for a puzzle. After leaving the die press, the sheets go through a breaker, which separates the puzzle pieces and drops them into their package, typically a cardboard box. He used to work in the packaging department and he has fleeting memories of getting home from work with a puzzle piece in his pocket. How it got there was an enigma to him. The last thing a buyer of Enigma Puzzles wants is to spend endless hours on a puzzle and find a piece of the puzzle missing. Putting together puzzles can, for the most part, is considered relaxing. Yet there is a certain adrenaline for those huddled over 500 pieces of random little cardboard cutouts. Similar to a hike in the woods, where the beauty is in the journey, there is a deep satisfaction that comes with completing the task.

    It was Jack’s job to handle customer complaints when a customer was not completely satisfied with their puzzle.  Customers never complained about the quality of picture on the puzzle or the puzzle packaging About 11 percent of the customer complaints where that the puzzle was either too easy or in most cases it was down right far too difficult.   However the bane of his existence was the other 89 percent. Yes, these were the customers missing puzzle pieces.  He did receive occasional inquiries from customers who discovered extra pieces upon completion of their puzzles. The nature of these calls was worth noting as these respondents seemingly were calling out of concern for the fellowship of puzzle solvers. They recognized that if they had too many pieces there had to be other people missing pieces to the little table top challenge in their life. They were worried about their next purchase.

    Then there were the customers who were missing a piece or multiple pieces to their puzzles. There were so many unknowns once a puzzle entered into the puzzle solvers domain. If one has ever had a puzzle piece stuck to the underside of their elbow they can surely understand? Puzzles live on a table in a far off vacation home The puzzle solvers are intent on solving the puzzle as other guests try to connect border pieces with pieces that do not contain a straight edge.  People give puzzles as gifts to people who have cats. Yet, the receivers of the puzzle are naive enough to attempt solving the puzzle.  Many mistakes have been made in an attempt to solve a puzzle. And that is where the connection becomes murky.

    Jane she comes home from work, and she was surprised to see Jack, comfortably at home, reading a thick novel on the couch. They had painstakingly purchased the couch late last week at Jack’s insistence as they had saved all their monies.

    “Hey Jack what are you doing home so early?”  She asked in a pitch a tad bit higher than her normal conversation voice.

    “Babe you knew I took the day off.”

    Jane put her keys on the kitchen shelf ignoring his response.

    Jack picked up on this and it made him feel a tad bit worse than he already felt. He could not pinpoint why this made him feel uncomfortable.

    He kissed her briefly and she returned his kiss quickly and half-heartedly. He walked to the window and noticed a car driving out of their driveway.  He listened to the stones flying as the car pivoted out of the driveway.

    Jack turned to his wife and looked her squarely in the eyes and she held his gaze. “Honey I don’t know what is going wrong with me. I seemed to have lost my passion. I don’t know if I can do this anymore.,” he said to her in an understated tone.

    She remained silent for a few seconds, and did not utter a single word.  Jack he did the same, as he had no other words to say. A tear slowly slid down Jane’s left cheek and slowly dripped down the indent in her chin, landing squarely on her big toe.

    Suddenly, there was a gentle knock on the door and Jane flinched noticeably.  Jack calmly walked to the front door. The room seemed much bigger to him. Before he could get to the front door, the door burst opened suddenly.  Jane took refuge on the couch wanting to cry herself to sleep.  Then in walked Jack’s colleague from work carrying a large bottle of port.

    She placed the bottle on the dining room table and looked at Jane resplendent on the sofa.

    “Where do you keep your wine glasses?

    Jane thought for a second, and she had no idea who was his woman.  But she answered, from a fog,  “Right above the dishwasher, the cabinets have glass windows.”

    The svelte professionally dressed, attractive woman, returned from the kitchen with three sparkling clean wine glasses.

    “Pour me a tall one.” Jane spouted. As she stood up from the sofa and then added, “And who are you?”

    “I take it your are Jane. I hear so much about you.  I am your husbands co-worker, well some would call me his boss,” she said as she gently handed her a tall goblet of the port.

    Jane finished her grog quickly, took the bottle from the visitor’s hand and poured herself another large glass of Port.

    “Hey Sunshine what are you doing here.” Jack asked as he gave her a warm embrace.

    “You call your boss Sunshine?” Jane said directing her query directly toward her husband.

    “Yes we are on a first name basis. ”

    Jack nodded and quizzically winked seductively back to his wife.

    Sunshine, deciding to cut through the perceived chaos, marched forward. “Jack I am concerned. You threatened to quit your job yesterday and today you took your first sick leave since you have been with the company. ”

    “Isn’t that what sick leave is for?

    Sunshine answered back with only a sardonic knowing smile.

    “Yes I told you I seemed to have lost my passion. I don’t know if I can do this anymore.”

    “Yes you did repeatedly”

    His wife remained lounged on the couch, drinking Tho port, rather quickly.

    Jack went into a long-winded explanation as to what was going through his mind. He told his boss about his frustrations of yesterday, and how it had built up the last few months. In the puzzle business, the customer was always right to an abnormal degree.  All he did was answer questions from customers who had puzzles that were missing pieces. His response back to the customer every single time was that he would send them another puzzle. He thought this policy was counter-productive. Why could they not send back only the missing pieces?

    Jane, while finishing the last of her second tumbler, stretched her legs on the couch and tried to allow her husband’s poor communication to sink in. She realized that he was not referring to her when he said that he was done. What really startled her was how careless he was with his words. He wasn’t even remotely aware that living in his enigmatic little world he could not find some quality time for her. She could not remember their last attempt at intimacy.  She went back to drinking her port with a newfound sense of purpose. The thought crossed her mind that she could have handled the situation better. That was her issue.

    His boss, lost in thought for a few seconds, reached into her purse and palmed a puzzle piece in her hand. It was a piece obviously from the middle of some puzzle.

    She placed the puzzle piece on the table right in front Jack. It was difficult to read the design due to glare from the overhead light. She walked across the room like she had been there before, and turned off the overhead light using a light switch next to the kitchen. It didn’t turn off the overhead light.

    Jane was now snoring loudly on the couch.

    Somehow Jane flipped a switch on the a little remote and the overhead lights dimmed slowly.  It probably was pure coincidence, as Jane preferred the more elegant light from the lamps in the room. Her and Jack had shopped for them together.

    His boss waltzed back to the table holding a single piece of a jigsaw puzzle. One could imagine the puzzle piece missing the rest of his 999 brothers and sisters who were part of the puzzle.

    “Please describe this puzzle piece to me so that it can be uniquely identified. I realize the customer doesn’t have the actual puzzle piece. Worse yet, all they have is an indentation on a decorated piece of cardboard. ”

    Without hesitation Jack responded,  “The piece has the number 237 printed on the back. ”

    “No it doesn’t.” said his boss nervously; suddenly sensing she had been down this road before.

    “But it should.”

    It was on this day; Jack worked himself out of a job. It didn’t happen overnight but eventually they implemented a numbering system on the back of the puzzle pieces and they no longer had to ship back an entire puzzle back to their customers.

    Jack was no longer needed, well so he thought.

    This invention of a single number on the back of each puzzle piece blew the puzzle industry to pieces.  Enigma puzzle became the target of buyouts from much larger entertainment companies.

    Jack was now needed in much bigger capacity, well so he thought. He thought this to himself while mulling over his options.

    His job now became a large puzzle to him.  His boss laid out the enigma to him that quizzical day in his living room. The answer to what piece was missing from a puzzle was not apparent to the clientele who were one piece short of a complete puzzle. Enigma Puzzle, it its rush to move the numbered puzzle configuration to market had not researched the ramification of such a move, They had added a detailed additions to the instructional manual that comes with a puzzle. Jack even worked on the composition and completeness of the note.

    Still Jack received almost the same structured calls as before and it increased exponentially the time he spent on the phone with each customer. After a weeks worth of phone calls, and meetings where he excluded the focus groups, he came to the conclusion that people who bought puzzles simply did not read the directions.  Jack had to explain the numbers were on the back of the puzzle and ask the customer for the numbers contained on the left, right, top and bottom of the missing pieces.  Usually by the time the caller got back to the phone they had four puzzle pieces forgetting to note their locations. Still that was enough to solve the identity of the missing piece. As foreshadowed, they never had computerized the numbers on the back of the puzzles. Yes, for a few months, they relied on large puzzle like patterns hung from each wall in the office.

    Jack spent his days quizzically, solving puzzles about puzzles from puzzled puzzle solvers.

    He was convinced he could not do this anymore. Admittedly he seemed to have lost his way in the enigmatic puzzle industry. Every puzzle he solved seemed to lead to another puzzle. It was the puzzle within a puzzle, in a bad metaphorical way.

    A few day earlier, after an extra long frustrating day, Jack walked down to the printing department half expecting them to be home for the day. Much to his surprise Lou was still working and he suspected Lou would grant him a favor. Jack had pretty much set him up for his first interview at the Puzzle factory.

    “Lou I need your help on a project that’s a bit exploratory in nature.

    “Sure Jack how can I help you.” Lou closed a few open windows on the large screens on his desk.

    “I emailed you a picture about ten minutes ago.” Jack said with little context. “Could you put a puzzle together using our basic configuration this week?”

    “Those make great gifts, don’t they?  The picture was a sun-splashed photo of Jack and Jane on the deck of the brewery overlooking the falls. Jane looked radiant in the photo, Jack the same, yet a bit disheveled. It was the look in her eyes that he loved about this photo. It was a reminder that that she truly loved him. It was another Kodak moment. Then he was reminded that nobody worked there anymore. He looked again at the look in her eyes flashing back at the camera. He could not even remember who had taken the photo.

    Today on this this especially snowy day, Jack ended up taking the bus home an hour later than usual. Jack so consumed by the self-inflicted drama of his work, had failed to notice a snowstorm was hitting the city pretty hard. He did not recognize a single person on the bus. However there in the second row sat Lovely Warren, the distinguished mayor of Rochester New York.  As the bus slowly made it way from the newly constructed transit center, Jack took the window seat next to her.  And yes the combination of the snowstorm and the festive nature of the mayor they filled their time chatting away on the bus.

    The mayor told him little snippets of the day in the life as mayor. She came across as somebody who cared for the people of Rochester. The city has its share of problems and she told him her goal was to make everybody’s life better.  She had been taking buses all day long to see what it was like for people in the city to ride the buses. Most importantly, what it was like for school age children to ride the bus.  She echoed that the more she knew about something, the more she didn’t know.

    It took the bus 40 minutes to make it up Monroe to his bus stop near his home. The mayor remained on the bus when he stood to get off the bus. He gave her a silent fist bump and waved a thumbs up from the sidewalk. The silence of the snow was deafening as he walked the four blocks back to his house. It was a subtle euphoric walk. In that little forty-minute bus ride, he felt a little more encouraged by the human spirit. It tickled him that city officials had the same frustrations as he during a normal day.  She was the first female mayor of Rochester and the second who was African American.  He thought of his day-to-day struggles, and it didn’t seem to matter all that much. The mayor felt like a kind everyday person.

    He walked up the front steps of their house and he was surprised to find the front steps recently cleared of snow. That was not your typical Jane In fact; Jane was reluctant to do much of anything since the night of his bosses visit. It was a simmering argument they had never got to bottom of.  Jack took a moment to watch the snowflakes flutter in the streetlights across the street. The utter silence of falling snow was always an unexpected smattering of brilliance.

    Jack for the first time in a few weeks felt an unexpected calm as he walked into the house. He savored the moment, as tranquility can be fleeting.  He found Jane sitting at the kitchen table. A few small candles flickered politely in the room. She seemed focused, oblivious to the building storm. Jack was happy to be home from work, and his Jane, looked radiant and delicately beautiful in the refracted light.

    He found her completely immersed in putting a puzzle together. She was more than halfway through with the border pieces and had completed a few pieces from the body of the puzzle.

    He wondered to himself “Was this a fault of the manufacturing process. Nobody wants to get a puzzle that is partially completed.

    Jack kissed her warmly and walked into the kitchen and queued up a little classical music. The radio it did play.

    He walked back into the dining room and kissed her warmly once again. He watched her fumble happily with the puzzle pieces. He sat next to her and cherished her joy in seeing the puzzle come together. She enthusiastically returned his kiss.

    And he whispered into her ear. “Sweet Jane”

    “We have tons of options.”

     

     

     

     

     

     

     

     

     

     

     

     

     

     

     

     

     

     

     

     

     

     

     

     

     

     

     

     

     

     

     

     

     

     

     

     

     

     

     

     

     

     

     

     

     

     

     

     

     

     

     

     

     

     

     

     

     

    The Puzzle within a Puzzle at The Puzzle Factory

    Jack he was a thinker, Jane she was a Clerk.  Jane she worked at Trader Joe’s, he toiled at the headquarters of Enigma Puzzle in downtown Rochester, New York. Jack was a master of many trades, an expert at none. Jane she worked so she could live. For Jack work was his everything. That is a bit hyperbolic as Jane is the apple of his eye.  Jane never caught that vibe from Jack as,

    Then they come home from work.
    Sittin’ by the fire…
    Radio just played a little classical music for these kids –

    And Jack is checking his mobile device for texts and emails from his work.

    Jack’s off today.

    He probably did earlier and this may explain his detachment,

    Jack’s work was a puzzle, an enigma to her. Jack worked in quality control at Enigma Puzzle. He worked on the loading dock and later manufacturing at Enigma while going to college. Upon graduation, he was asked to stay on in an increased capacity. Enigma liked to keep it in the family and additionally they did not have to sink their resources into finding another person to fill the position of (PBRM) Puzzle Buyers Relationship Manager.

    Jack accepted this position even though Enigma only offered him a modest pay raise. It was more than enough for him to get by.  He drove a hard bargain as they gave him two weeks vacation to start. He asked them to throw in a bunch of stock options, which, at the time, were virtually useless.

    Jack took pride in his work and emerged as an energetic burst to the management team at Enigma.  He was a determined problem solver and often worked on solving work problems once he could do his real thinking. That is when he came home from work. That was until he became the relationship manager at Enigma.

    He had complete faith in the manufacturing and quality control at Enigma. It was the absolute attention to detail. It can take up to 10 weeks just to make a die for a puzzle. After leaving the die press, the sheets go through a breaker, which separates the puzzle pieces and drops them into their package, typically a cardboard box. He used to work in the packaging department and he has fleeting memories of getting home from work with a puzzle piece in his pocket. How it got there was an enigma to him. The last thing a buyer of Enigma Puzzles wants is to spend endless hours on a puzzle and find a piece of the puzzle missing. Putting together puzzles can, for the most part, is considered relaxing. Yet there is a certain adrenaline for those huddled over 500 pieces of random little cardboard cutouts. Similar to a hike in the woods, where the beauty is in the journey, there is a deep satisfaction that comes with completing the task.

    It was Jack’s job to handle customer complaints when a customer was not completely satisfied with their puzzle.  Customers never complained about the quality of picture on the puzzle or the puzzle packaging About 11 percent of the customer complaints there that the puzzle was either too easy or in most cases it was down right far too difficult.   However the bane of his existence was the other 89 percent. Yes, these were the customers missing puzzle pieces.  He did receive occasional inquiries from customers who discovered extra pieces upon completion of their puzzles. The nature of these calls was worth noting as these respondents seemingly were calling out of concern for the fellowship of puzzle solvers. They recognized that if they had too many pieces there had to be other people missing pieces to the little table top challenge in their life. They were worried about their next purchase.

    Then there were the customers who were missing a piece or multiple pieces to their puzzles. There were so many unknowns once a puzzle entered into the puzzle solvers domain. If one has ever had a puzzle piece stuck to the underside of their elbow they can surely understand? Puzzles live on a table in a far off vacation home The puzzle solvers are intent on solving the puzzle as other guests try to connect border pieces with pieces that do not contain a straight edge.  People give puzzles as gifts to people who have cats. Yet, the receivers of the puzzle are naive enough to attempt solving the puzzle.  Many mistakes have been made in an attempt to solve a puzzle. And that is where the connection becomes murky.

    Jane she comes home from work, and she was surprised to see Jack, comfortably at home, reading a thick novel on the couch. They had painstakingly purchased the couch late last week at Jack’s insistence as they had saved all their monies.

    “Hey Jack what are you doing home so early?”  She asked in a pitch a tad bit higher than her normal conversation voice.

    “Babe you knew I took the day off.”

    Jane put her keys on the kitchen shelf ignoring his response.

    Jack picked up on this and it made him feel a tad bit worse than he already felt. He could not pinpoint why this made him feel uncomfortable.

    He kissed her briefly and she returned his kiss quickly and half-heartedly. He walked to the window and noticed a car driving out of their driveway.  He listened to the stones flying as the car pivoted out of the driveway.

    Jack turned to his wife and looked her squarely in the eyes and she held his gaze. “Honey I don’t know what is going wrong with me. I seemed to have lost my passion. I don’t know if I can do this anymore.,” he said to her in an understated tone.

    She remained silent for a few seconds, and did not utter a single word.  Jack he did the same, as he had no other words to say. A tear slowly slid down Jane’s left cheek and slowly dripped down the indent in her chin, landing squarely on her big toe.

    Suddenly, there was a gentle knock on the door and Jane flinched noticeably.  Jack calmly walked to the front door. The room seemed much bigger to him. Before he could get to the front door, the door burst opened suddenly.  Jane took refuge on the couch wanting to cry herself to sleep.  Then in walked Jack’s colleague from work carrying a large bottle of port.

    She placed the bottle on the dining room table and looked at Jane resplendent on the sofa.

    “Where do you keep your wine glasses?

    Jane thought for a second, and she had no idea who was his woman.  But she answered, from a fog,  “Right above the dishwasher, the cabinets have glass windows.”

    The svelte professionally dressed, attractive woman, returned from the kitchen with three sparkling clean wine glasses.

    “Pour me a tall one.” Jane spouted. As she stood up from the sofa and then added, “And who are you?”

    “I take it your are Jane. I hear so much about you.  I am your husbands co-worker, well some would call me his boss,” she said as she gently handed her a tall goblet of the Port.

    Jane finished her Port quickly, took the bottle from the visitor’s hand and poured herself another large glass of Port.

    “Hey Sunshine what are you doing here.” Jack asked as he gave her a warm embrace.

    “You call your boss Sunshine?” Jane said directing her query directly toward her husband.

    “Yes we are on a first name basis. ”

    Jack nodded and quizzically winked seductively back to his wife.

    Sunshine, deciding to cut through the perceived chaos, marched forward. “Jack I am concerned. You threatened to quit your job yesterday and today you took your first sick leave since you have been with the company. ”

    “Isn’t that what sick leave is for?

    Sunshine answered back with only a sardonic knowing smile.

    “Yes I told you I seemed to have lost my passion. I don’t know if I can do this anymore.”

    “Yes you did repeatedly”

    His wife remained lounged on the couch, drinking Port, rather quickly.

    Jack went into a long-winded explanation as to what was going through his mind. He told his boss about his frustrations of yesterday, and how it had built up the last few months. In the puzzle business, the customer was always right to an abnormal degree.  All he did was answer questions from customers who had puzzles that were missing pieces. His response back to the customer every single time was that he would send then back another puzzle. He thought this policy was counter-productive. Why could they not send back only the missing pieces?

    Jane, while finishing the last of her second tumbler, stretched her legs on the couch and tried to allow her husband’s poor communication to sink in. She realized that he was not referring to her when he said that he was done. What really startled her was how careless he was with his words. He wasn’t even remotely aware that living in his enigmatic little world he could not find some quality time for her. She could not remember their last attempt at intimacy.  She went back to drinking her port with a newfound sense of purpose. The thought cross her mind that she could have handled the situation better. That was her issue.

    His boss, lost in thought for a few seconds, reached into her purse and palmed a puzzle piece in her hand. It was a piece obviously from the middle of some puzzle.

    She placed the puzzle piece on the table right in front Jack. It was difficult to read the design due to glare from the overhead light. She walked across the room like she had been there before, and turned off the overhead light using a light switch next to the kitchen. It didn’t turn off the overhead light.

    Jane was now snoring loudly on the couch.

    Somehow Jane flipped a switch on the a little remote and the overhead lights dimmed slowly.  It probably was pure coincidence, as Jane preferred the more elegant light from the lamps in the room. Her and Jack had shopped for them together.

    His boss waltzed back to the table holding a single piece of a jigsaw puzzle. One could imagine the puzzle piece missing the rest of his 999 brothers and sisters who were part of the puzzle.

    “Please describe this puzzle piece to me so that it can be uniquely identified. I realize the customer doesn’t have the actual puzzle piece. Worse yet, all they have is an indentation on a decorated piece of cardboard. ”

    Without hesitation Jack responded,  “The piece has the number 237 printed on the back. ”

    “No it doesn’t.” said his boss nervously; suddenly sensing she had been down this road before.

    “But it should.”

    It was on this day; Jack worked himself out of a job. It didn’t happen overnight but eventually they implemented a numbering system on the back of the puzzle pieces and they no longer had to ship back an entire puzzle back to their customers.

    Jack was no longer needed, well so he thought.

    This invention of a single number on the back of each puzzle piece blew the puzzle industry to pieces.  Enigma puzzle became the target of buyouts from much larger entertainment companies.

    Jack was now needed in much bigger capacity, well so he thought. He thought this to himself while mulling over his options.

    His job now became a large puzzle to him.  His boss laid out the enigma to him that quizzical day in his living room. The answer to what piece was missing from a puzzle was not apparent to the clientele who were one piece short of a complete puzzle. Enigma Puzzle, it its rush to move the numbered puzzle configuration to market had not researched the ramification of such a move, They had added a detailed additions to the instructional manual that comes with a puzzle. Jack even worked on the composition and completeness of the note.

    Still Jack received almost the same structured calls as before and it increased exponentially the time he spent on the phone with each customer. After a weeks worth of phone calls, and meetings where he excluded the focus groups, he came to the conclusion that people who bought puzzles simply did not read the directions.  Jack had to explain the numbers were on the back of the puzzle and ask the customer for the numbers contained on the left, right, top and bottom of the missing pieces.  Usually by the time the caller got back to the phone they had four puzzle pieces forgetting to note their locations. Still that was enough to solve the identity of the missing piece. As foreshadowed, they never had computerized the numbers on the back of the puzzles. Yes, for a few months, they relied on large puzzle like patterns hung from each wall in the office.

    Jack spent his days quizzically, solving puzzles about puzzles from puzzled puzzle solvers.

    He was convinced he could not do this anymore. Admittedly he seemed to have lost his way in the enigmatic puzzle industry. Every puzzle he solved seemed to lead to another puzzle. It was the puzzle within a puzzle, in a bad metaphorical way.

    A few day earlier, after an extra long frustrating day, Jack walked down to the printing department half expecting them to be home for the day. Much to his surprise Lou was still working and he suspected Lou would grant him a favor. Jack had pretty much set him up for his first interview at the Puzzle factory.

    “Lou I need your help on a project that’s a bit exploratory in nature.

    “Sure Jack how can I help you.” Lou closed a few open windows on the large screens on his desk.

    “I emailed you a picture about ten minutes ago.” Jack said with little context. “Could you put a puzzle together using our basic configuration this week?”

    “Those make great gifts, don’t they?  The picture was a sun-splashed photo of Jack and Jane on the deck of the brewery overlooking the falls. Jane looked radiant in the photo, Jack the same, yet a bit disheveled. It was the look in her eyes that he loved about this photo. It was a reminder that that she truly loved him. It was another Kodak moment. Then he was reminded that nobody worked there anymore. He looked again at the look in her eyes flashing back at the camera. He could not even remember who had taken the photo.

    Today on this this especially snowy day, Jack ended up taking the bus home an hour later than usual. Jack so consumed by the self-inflicted drama of his work, had failed to notice a snowstorm was hitting the city pretty hard. He did not recognize a single person on the bus. However there in the second row sat Lovely Warren, the distinguished mayor of Rochester New York.  As the bus slowly made it way from the newly constructed transit center, Jack took the window seat next to her.  And yes the combination of the snowstorm and the festive nature of the mayor they filled their time chatting away on the bus.

    The mayor told him little snippets of the day in the life as mayor. She came across as somebody who cared for the people of Rochester. The city has its share of problems and she told him her goal was to make everybody’s life better.  She had been taking buses all day long to see what it was like for people in the city to ride the buses. Most importantly, what it was like for school age children to ride the bus.  She echoed that the more she knew about something, the more she didn’t know.

    It took the bus 40 minutes to make it up Monroe to his bus stop near his home. The mayor remained on the bus when he stood to get off the bus. He gave her a silent fist bump and waved a thumbs up from the sidewalk. The silence of the snow was deafening as he walked the four blocks back to his house. It was a subtle euphoric walk. In that little forty-minute bus ride, he felt a little more encouraged by the human spirit. It tickled him that city officials had the same frustrations as he during a normal day.  She was the first female mayor of Rochester and the second who was African American.  He thought of his day-to-day struggles, and it didn’t seem to matter all that much. The mayor felt like a kind everyday person.

    He walked up the front steps of their house and he was surprised to find the front steps recently cleared of snow. That was not your typical Jane In fact; Jane was reluctant to do much of anything since the night of his bosses visit. It was a simmering argument they had never got to bottom of.  Jack took a moment to watch the snowflakes flutter in the streetlights across the street. The utter silence of falling snow was always an unexpected smattering of brilliance.

    Jack for the first time in a few weeks felt an unexpected calm as he walked into the house. He savored the moment, as tranquility can be fleeting.  He found Jane sitting at the kitchen table. A few small candles flickered politely in the room. She seemed focused, oblivious to the building storm. Jack was happy to be home from work, and his Jane, looked radiant and delicately beautiful in the refracted light.

    He found her completely immersed in putting a puzzle together. She was more than halfway through with the border pieces and had completed a few pieces from the body of the puzzle.

    He wondered to himself “Was this a fault of the manufacturing process. Nobody wants to get a puzzle that is partially completed.

    Jack kissed her warmly and walked into the kitchen and queued up a little classical music. The radio it did play.

    He walked back into the dining room and kissed her warmly once again. He watched her fumble happily with the puzzle pieces. He sat next to her and cherished her joy in seeing the puzzle come together. She enthusiastically returned his kiss.

    And he whispered into her ear. “Sweet Jane”

    “We have tons of options.”

     

     

     

     

     

  • The Music of 1972

    DrHookIn 1972 I was a youngster who heard a lot of music from WRAW AM radio in Reading Pennsylvania as well as the music playing in either my parent’s car or a radio that sat on the counter in the kitchen. The thing about radio back then was that the format on the radio was top forty, I believe top forty radio was easily defined as simply that, the radio stations played the same 40 songs pretty much on repeat all day long.

    This brief reflection was inspired by a talk we heard last night by Ta Nehisi Coates. He read from his latest novel and answered a series of questions from the brilliant bestselling author Renée Watson. One of her questions was about how music guided his writing. He reportedly has a soundtrack to his latest book. He talked about the music of Donny Hathaway and how it was calming influence on his writing. I had always appreciated his music and I honestly can admit, “Where is the Love” a duet with Roberta Flack is one of my favorite songs. I remember hearing that song when I was a young boy and for me it become to me something we could define as a classic.

    The loose definition, of a classic for me has always been, music that which withstands the test of time. I sat today with headphones and found the song on a collection called billboard top 100 songs of 1972.  So I put that collection on random play as I did some business analysis during my workday.

    One of the first songs to come on in fact was Hathaway and Flack’s duet which sounded brand sparkling new and beautiful. I was surprised to hear Todd Rundgren and BadFinger’s ‘Day after Day.’ Those songs were far too cool to make anybody’s top 100 list.

    There were some truly bad songs that made into the top 100.  There were some real howlers in there including a song called ‘My DingALing’,  ‘Puppy Love” by Donnie Osmond and Donna Fargo’s , ‘Happiest Girl in the World’ . These songs are seriously off the charts bad but somehow they made it onto the charts. Seriously go listen to Miss Fargo’s song. She was damn happy this song made the top 100.

    It was also great to listen to the Soul and or Rhythm and Blues of the day. They sounded much better today than in mono AM radio. The Stylistics ‘Betcha By Golly Why’ is a masterpiece, Al Green’s ‘Look What You Have Done For Me” was beautiful and touching and another favorite by Cornelius Brothers and Sisters Rose hit my ear perfectly It was pleasure to take in the music and give it a long hard listen.

    Then there is Sly and the Family Stone. Man, that is some seriously good music.

    Yes somewhere in the year Don Mclean sang about Vincent Van Gogh, people got into Alice Cooper and somewhere along the line Dr. Hook made it onto the cover of the Rolling Stone.

    Namaste