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Nothing in the world is more dangerous than sincere ignorance and conscientious stupidity


Here is the standard view on the bus on the way back home from work. Stimulating, no? Even better when you're so tired that you struggle to remember if you've read the same sentence in your book seven, or eleven, times. I try to avoid talking about work here (last week was about TECHNOPARK, not work), but I just get something off my chest and I am wagering that no attendees would be aware of this part of teh Internets. Oh the joys of posting under your real name!

Yes, I was back at work yesterday, and despite some tight deadlines, I found myself inevitably drawn into another of an ongoing procession of catered meetings. I find that each of these events very much blends into another, with the ever-present key theme of ‘going forward’. Quite how ‘going forward’ relates to a fixation on the past and an endless narrative of ‘need more money, need more money', I am not so sure.

I did enjoy one new fellow sharing with the group that his role is one of “doing a lot of co-ordinating and networking. You know, inputting into things that I can.” I am not sure I do know what he was talking about. For a second, I thought that he might have been touching upon other people’s manholes, but I could not testify to that. I do, however, believe that it is safe to assume that his ‘work’ involves lots of meetings, cake and catered lunches.

Comments

Lynette said…
First, I believe the title of your post today is doggone true. Thanks for having it there.

Second, I myself am truly grateful that my job doesn't involve meetings of any kind, about 99.5% of the time.

Third, I don't know enough to differentiate between peaches from different states. Properly ripened peaches are from heaven on earth.

By the way, you and your wife and your boys are blessed. My dearly departed husband LeRoy and I have two fine sons, now 32 and 29. It's a fine ride. And if I've already told you this, you can enjoy hearing how blessed you are again and then chalk my forgetfulness up to the fact that I'm 60 and two thirds years old. No, young. You know what I mean.
Maria Verivaki said…
those scenes from the bus arent stimulating, but what i liked about coming home from work on the bus (alas, in a bygone era for me) was the serenity of it all; everything in its place, the world in the same order that i left it in the morning, the wheels of the bus swishing on the wet road; they were all saying to me: there now, life can be simple
Martin MY said…
I like your points of view.
USelaine said…
The bus is your refuge. As struggles for dominance and influence and grandeur swirl about you in your First Place and your Second Place, the liferaft that requires nothing of you - only that you sit and harm no one, your Third Place, for now, is the bus.
Anonymous said…
I look the bus runs so fast.. you'd never find it in Indonesia max speed is 80 Km/h
Miles McClagan said…
It's way, way more creepy to be on a bus to begin with these days, with the hilariously grumpy bus drivers and the ever present threat of violence...bless Metro.

If it is Metro, Hobart Coaches with that bloke who's the size of a bus, that's terrifying...

As for meetings, we're the same - at least you get sandwiches, we rely on shite mixed lollies
Anonymous said…
lovely reading your post...a beautifully captured shot along wiht the thoughtful documentary...wonderful!


http://www.calcuttanow.blogspot.com/
Kim said…
Hello Kris,
I came here to your blog this morning to answer the question you left on mine yesterday. I got completely caught up and read every entry on the first page and had to stop myself from reading further because, well, I have a life and I have to get to it today. But, I want to say I'm an instant fan of your writing and I found myself laughing and nodding, "Uh huh!" along the way.
Your sons are adorable (I know, its from a distance and with vast quantities of sleep that I say that). I work with parents and children and am a parent so your writing resonates with me a great deal. And especially about work meetings.

Now, to answer your question (if it wasn't toungue in cheek), that was a display in the window of a large scale photo lab next to the camera store I'd just been in. The lab just closed its doors at that location for good a month or so ago. I think it was the large scale display prints of astronomy photos they were showing off in the window display (they supply museums and the like). No rocket making history in Seattle that I'm aware of, although the aircraft manufacturer located here, Boeing, probably has divisions that supply parts or collaborate on space craft elsewhere. The Space Needle and the 62 World's Fair theme of Century 21 and the space age is ever present on our skyline.

Nice to "meet" you. I'll be back! And thanks for visiting SDP. You should join our daily photo blog group! Your blog is a gem!
-Kim
Seattle Daily Photo
Anonymous said…
That guy sounds like he has the dossiest job ever. Nice work if you can get it.
Kris McCracken said…
Lynette, thanks for the kind words. I hope that I feel the same way for my boys as you clearly do when they are in their thirties.

Mediterranean Kiwi, there something to be said for a bus ride on a wet day.

Martin, why, so do I (most of the time)!
Kris McCracken said…
Uselaine, there is something a little bit depressing about a=having a bus as my 'third place', but you are correct!

Hendrawan, they do go mighty quick down Derwent Avenue on a dark and wet evening sometimes.

Miles, it's not too bad. The Risdon Vale express is generally an accordion bus, so plenty of room to avoid the mentally ill. The Lindisfarne and Geilsten Bay buses' biggest threat is rowdy Ogilvy School girls, who can be annoying, but generally harmless. I did expand on bus frustrations, a few months back however.
Kris McCracken said…
Flying stars, thoughtful, me? I will have to tell the wife that one! ;)

Kim, good to hear that someone reads my blathering. I'll keep blathering if you keep reading, deal? (By the way, I very much enjoy your photography!)

Jackie, there are thousands employed in Tasmania this very day in such jobs. We call the bureaucrats, or community sector employees!

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