STAPLES AND PIERCINGS AND NICKNAMES

My darling cousin Melanie  Sherman writes a great blog about her life in the Northwest.  I recommend it.  The address is http://melaniesherman.blogspot.com.  She is also a writer of fiction and has completed a historical fiction about a young American girl who is mistaken for a boy, kidnapped off the streets along with her two male cousins, and pressed into service on a British ship.  She's doing the final edits now and soon soon soon will be signing that publishing contract.

Her most recent blog - "Stuck with the Stapler" - struck a chord with me as I love the little funnies in life.  Like the fact that I purchase the office supplies at work and I love buying staples from Staples!  It is just so - KARMA-like - that you can have a box of staples in a red box labelled STAPLES in big black letters.  That line of thinking led me to an incident that happened a few years ago.

When I started working at the Inn there already was another employee named Karen.  My boss thought it would be too confusing to have two Karens, so asked if I'd mind going by a nickname.  I have to admit my first thought was, "What?"  I mean, I managed to get through school and other jobs that also had other Karens and it didn't cause problems, but it was my first day at work and I didn't want to start trouble on my very first day.  I always wait for the second or third day, you know.  So I said, "No problem, how about Max?  That's what kids called me in 8th grade."

Actually kids called me Maxwell Smart in 8th grade because the TV show Maxwell Smart was running at the time (oh, quit doing the math, I'm 55!) and...I was very smart!  So being called Max at work seemed to be no big deal.

Being Max has caused quite a bit of confusion.  When I answer the phone people almost always ask me to repeat my name.  "Max?" they ask.  Then it starts.  "As in Maxine?"  And sometimes, Lord help me, I just say, "Yes!" so I can get on with my day.  The real fun happens when I'm making a business call to the cable TV company or phone company and they ask for my name.  "Max," I say.  "And your last name?" they ask.  Ooops.  Didn't know you were going to ask for that.  "Maxwell," I say.  There is ALWAYS a pause.  "Your name is Max Maxwell?"  And then I have to explain.  To people who really don't care and just want to fill in their blanks correctly.  

One of my coworkers thought it was quite funny that I was the OFFICE manager and that my name was MAX, so he started calling me OFFICE MAX.  I liked it.  In fact, I liked it so much that the next time I was buying supplies in our local Office Max store I looked for some Office Max mugs or other such items.  I didn't find any, so when I was checking out I decided to ask about it.

"Do you carry any mugs or other items that have your Office Max logo printed on them?" I asked politely.

At that time the clerks in Office Max all looked like high school dropouts with multiple piercings and dull, glassy expressions on their faces. 

"What?" the clerk asked.

I repeated my request.

"Nah," she answered.

"See, my nickname at work is Office Max and I thought it would be fun to have a mug or something with your logo on it - get it?  Office Max?"  I said.

The young lady picked at one of her (do you call them earrings if they are in your eyebrow?) piercings and just looked at me.  I stood there for a minute and decided that, yes, I felt silly now and I could leave.  I picked up my stuff and left.

I still think it was a good idea.

WHAT'S ON TV THURSDAY NIGHTS? DON'T REMEMBER! DON'T CARE!

LuAnn had to drive home last Friday.  I miss her; she is such a calm and peaceful presence.  Before she returned to the rigors of completing her Masters Degree and teaching kindergarten (For once, I'm not being sarcastic - teaching is a difficult profession these days!) she and I were able to enjoy a sunset cruise on the Schooner Freedom last Thursday evening.  I know nothing about boats or ships (unlike my cousin Melanie who has performed exhaustive research on sailing vessels for her book) but here from the Freedom's web site is a description of the schooner:  "Freedom is an authentic replica of a 19th century blockade runner. She is a 72', double masted, gaff-rigged, topsail schooner."  Pretty impressive.  LuAnn and I and about 20 other guests boarded the schooner at 5:30pm.  We received a short but entertaining safety lecture from crew member John (originally from West Palm Beach) which made me glad that LuAnn and I were sitting on the life jacket storage.  The two crew members - Kim and the aforementioned John - then pressed a couple of men into service (hm..this is sounding more and more like my cousin Melanie's book) and had them pull up the main sails.  Then Captain John (not to be confused with crew member John) pointed at LuAnn and said "You're next."  She hopped up and, when he gave the order, she pulled up yet another sail.  All this was happening as we slipped away from the dock.  LuAnn looked like she was having a great time while pulling (hauling?) up the sail - see the top picture and decide for yourselves.  At this point we had most of the sails up and the Captain was still using the motor; once all the sails were raised and we were through the drawbridge connecting the city to Anastasia Island, he shut off the motor and there was only the sound of the sails rippling in the wind.  It was glorious.

While LuAnn and I and the rest of the unpaid crew sat back and enjoyed the sea breeze and views of the city, Captain John hurled commands at Kim and John and had them scrambling from one side of the ship to another.  The boom would swing and either Kim or John would push it as far as it would go as we'd start turning (tacking?).  Kim and John spent a lot of time scrambling from one rigging to another, but they laughed a lot and looked like they were enjoying themselves. In between their tasks they asked questions about where we were from, answered questions about the schooner and what they were doing, and told stories about other trips.  LuAnn and I were sitting near the front (bow) of the ship; from time to time we could hear Captain Mike explaining in detail exactly why he was giving such-and-such instruction to his crew.  An elderly man in a floppy hat leaned forward the entire trip and drank in every word.

We sailed out of the inlet (and saw Tracey's house where we had partied the Tuesday before) and out into the Atlantic.  The breeze stiffened and the sea roughed up a bit, but it was still "smooth sailing" on the Schooner Freedom.  We eventually turned about and Captain John let us mostly drift in with the tide as the sun set below the horizon.  Dolphins chased their next meal off the port side, then suddenly appeared on the starboard side.  (pretty good, eh, melly?  port! starboard! for a landlubber!)  I wasn't able to capture the dolphins in a picture, but I was able to get a good enough look to bring a grin to my face.

Captain John snapped our picture just before the sun set.  (2nd picture) 

All in all it was a delicious couple of hours - relaxing, fun, and refreshing.