A Thousand Words

従って私は私の前のビールそして半分のケープコッドおよび2のこのホテルの部屋に6パックで入るもっと坐っている。 私は私がそれらをすべて飲んでもいいことをがその

Damn. I had the translator on. Anyway, in English…

 I’m sitting in this hotel room in Cape Cod with a beer and a half in front of me and two more to go in the six- pack. I’m sure I can drink them all, but does that mean I should or I have to? The beer stings my chapped lips. Its cold. The weather, not the beer, though the beer is colder than the draught I got at the restaurant a few minutes ago. I paid something like twelve dollars for a burger and a Pepsi. Good thing the company is footing the bill, because I spent over 13 hours in a grocery store today, and it had nothing to do with what was , or was not, in my refrigerator. Someone has to install all this fancy, new, state of the art computer crap, right?

It’s not the operators who you have to worry about. They get the gist of the thing in about 15 minutes. No, the people you have to worry about are the people unto whom you have delivered the accursed change. "Why is this better, How is this better, why are you making me do this?" They cry, oblivious to the fact that they are a hundred times more secure in their transaction than they were yesterday, only interested in how badly you’ve put them out by forcing them to break their routine. These are the people who wanted a change in the White House? The ones who can’t handle a change in the way they process their credit transactions? Holy crap!

Maybe the change they don’t get pissy about is the change they think they want. The old system wasn’t broken, just out of date. It worked fine, and as long as it worked, everything was OK. Now comes this forced change, about which the affected had no input. We don’t want THAT kind of change, we only want the change of the things we think need changed. Well, guess what kiddo? You don’t always get to choose the manner in which you change is delivered.

So last night, while I’m up to my armpits in dust bunnies trying to remove the old hardware, the manager of the place starts talking about the intonations of Chinese words and how the lilt of your voice can completely change the meaning of a word. My first thought was “What the hell are you talking about, and why are you talking about it now?” My second thought was “And I thought English was difficult!” As it turns out, the intonation thing is the equivalent of the English”they’re, their, there” conundrum, which has plagued the aspirations of the young writer for many a year. As it was she was mostly talking to the other guy helping me with this installation, so I was free to ignore her after a few well meaning nods of appreciation. This gets done, all is well, and I get to look forward to whole 3 hours sleep before I have to get up and make sure the place does not go to hell because of the aforementioned unwanted change. When I get there, I can already smell the smoke.

Eight hours later, after every cinder of every fire has been put out, I get to call the lovely Mrs. Kage and tell her why I won’t be home again tonight; because these change resistant people would not leave me alone long enough to do some actual training! And the manager wants this change and that change…

Now, after THIRTEEN HOURS of being in this god-forsaken hole in the wall I get to go to the hotel room because the business is closing. I’m thinking about what time I have to leave the Cape tomorrow in order to beat the northbound Boston traffic, as well as where I’m going to be able to get something to eat, and perhaps a beer or nine. It seems as thought I need to be In or around Boston by no later than seven A.M., which is 2 hours north of hear, which means I need to leave by five. YIPPEE! I get to wake up at Four O’clock in the frigging morning! What a country!

I decide to eat at the hotel. Whatever. I walk into the place, and the staff outnumbers the guests 3 to 1. There’s one guy sitting at the bar, the bartender, the waitress and the cook. I can see 75 percent of them; the other guy is in the kitchen. The lone patron is silver haired, well above 60. He’s talking to the barkeep like he’s an old friend and the Asian waitress as if he’d like her to be a new friend. I just want to eat. I’m about halfway thorough my burger when the other patron strikes up conversation. He’s been to several countries as a field tech for a sprinkler and fire extinguisher distributor. He’s learned many languages, at least enough to ask for the restroom without getting arrested. Then he tells me he’s had two Chinese wives, and he begins to regale me with a story about the effects of improper intonation in the Chinese language! Something about the difference between 'sleep' and 'dumplings'.

Evidently, the Universe has a sense of humor. At least it was a good burger.