Can we keep the Holidays out of the office?

I'm not trying to be the big Scrooge here, but I feel like filing for conscientious objector status for the holidays here at work. Yes, I'm agnostic, but that has nothing to do with it.

I celebrate Christmas, not out of religious reasons, but simple tradition. I believe most do. While you're standing in line to let your kids sit on the mall Santa's lap, juggling your 30 bags of commerce, most of us aren't thinking 'happy birthday Jesus'. But I digress.

I'm not against the holidays. I love the holidays. Family, friends, cookies, food, music, log in the fireplace... and heck, gifts ain't bad either. I just don't want the holidays in my office. And I'm not even going to go into the omission of Chanukkah, Kwanzaa, or Festivus. Let's start at the beginning...

Monday, November 26th, still bloated with turkey leftovers, still groggy from 4 a.m. Black Friday shopping, I walk into the office at 7 a.m. to be blinded by the "North Polock's" 700 kilowatt winter wonderland. It's the cubicle next to mine, but it pours over into my space -- a light up animatronic reindeer pokes his head over the wall at me every 45 seconds.

Not to be undone, the big dumb Irishman brings us an electronic tree that looks like something Charlie Brown would have had, should he have been skilled with fiber-optics. Now, not only is this tree hideous, but it blocks my view of the front door, so I can no longer see anyone come in the office. And if that wasn't the worst of it, Jolly Ol' St. Patrick doesn't even work in my section of the office... he just thought it would be nice if he spread his Christmas Joy to our workspace.

Then there's the parties. 5 or 6 Government branches work in my building. Each one with a Christmas party. Day parties, luncheons, evening parties, private parties, public parties... just too many parties. One can do maybe one or two, then just try to duck out of the rest. A bunch of us made our decision on one public, nighttime party, $50, open bar, thrown by a different agency. The one our agency throws is a complete drag, plus it's much better to get ripped when your supervisor, boss, and his boss aren't there.

Office luncheon... no way out of that pot-luck nightmare -- luckily, the boss makes good lasagna. Friday, another office party -- really the in-house drinking party; not possibly legal, but often fun. Now the "real" office Christmas party is Thursday night -- skipping that (as I said, drinking with the boss...). I'm overwhelmed already. I want it over.

Nope, not even close. Secret Santa? I opted out of that. Then it was cancelled anyway. OK, good. No office gift exchanging either? Maybe? Probably not. Christmas eve, my desk will invariably be covered with gifts I don't need from people I never intended to exchange gifts with. Heck, half these people wouldn't even be on my Christmas card list if I wasn't getting these mediocrely wrapped packages containing coffee mugs filled with chocolates, or Starbucks 3-packs.

And a candle swap? I'm not even sure what that is. Everyone brings in a Yankee candle, puts them in a bag... and you pull a candle. If I wanted a candle, wouldn't I buy myself a candle? No, I buy a candle, to exchange it, randomly, for a different candle? Is there a point? This is somehow better than Secret Santa? Again, I opt out.

It's holiday time here...

Can I just opt out of the whole thing?

To Protect and Serve, and share a laugh

Archived MySpace blog

OK, so I've been tagged, and should be writing another blog... but I wanted to tell this little story first. So... tough; my blog, you read what I type. OK, no, I will get back to being tagged later. But, for now, let me tell you about last night.

So, Molly and I are coming home from Brian's Birthday party. Kudos to Brian and moreover Jack, for putting together such an amazing party. But, as happens, the night wore on, and it was time for us to make the trek back from Norwalk to Branford.

We decide to drive up Rte. 1 for a while, instead of getting straight on the highway, in hopes of finding Dunkin Donuts on our way... and, about a mile up, in the sleepy town of Westport, we do.

Two coffees now on board, back onto Rt. 1. About a quarter mile up, on the right, in a gas station that seems to have been closed for hours, I spy one of Westport's Finest. No worries. Just going a half mile to the highway entrance, it's late, doing nothing wrong.

"That's odd." "What's that?" "The lights on the top of his car... he doesn't seem to have any." "Oh I've seen that. Some of..." "I think they're on the sides." "Makes sense. Whalen is making... oh, he's following us." "Why?" "No reason, I'm sure. Just gotta earn his donut."

Turn right toward the highway, 5-0 still following. I've known he's there for the last 1/2 mile or so, no way I've stepped over 40. Lights: red and blues. Pull over. Grab my license, and reg and insurance card from the glove box. Window down. See the usual swagger up, and the mag-lite.

"Mornin' Officer." "Morning. You got a taillight out. Just have to harass you for it." 'Harass.' Yes he said 'Harass'. "Oh." Kinda sighed, kinda laughed. Wow they really have nothing to do in Westport at 1 in the morning. "I'll get that fixed tomorrow." "Been drinking tonight?" Molly gives a no; I tell him "had a beer and hour or so." "Got any warrants?" "Nah... I work for the State's Attorney's office; couldn't let that happen." "OK, I just gotta run these [license and reg], and you're all set."

"He pulled me over for a taillight. Wow, these have nothing to do out here. Told you... just gotta earn his..."

"OK, you're all set. This is a written warning; just gotta prove to my boss that I did something tonight" "OK, is this the kind I have to bring to DMV?" "No, I didn't check off 'defective equipment'. I just need something to give to my Sergeant. Just throw it away. You can just toss it out the window when I turn around." Ummm... so you can pull me over again for littering?" "Nah... I'm turning right around as soon as I'm back in my car." "OK. Have a good night." "Hey," Molly interjects, "did you see this?" The mag-lite shines back in the car. "This", as she reaches for my air freshener. It's a picture of this Officer Friendly looking cop, with the words 'Police Are My Favorite People' "That's great. Where'd you get that?" "Some little shop in Newport. Horribly... it's donut scented." "That's great. I have to get one."

In the town of Westport, busted taillights are considered especially heinous. At 1 in the morning, these cases are handles by the men and women of the Special Taillight Unit. These are their stories.