For some general humor, and to get yourself in my frame of mind for this post, read this Monty Python sketch first:
Interview with Arthur “Two Sheds” Jackson from Monty Python’s Flying Circus
Host (Eric Idle): Last week the Royal Festival Hall saw the first performance of a new symphony by one of the world’s leading modern composers, Arthur ‘Two sheds’ Jackson. Mr Jackson.
Jackson (Terry Jones): Hello.
Host: May I just sidetrack for one moment. This — what shall I call it — nickname of yours…
Jackson: Ah yes.
Host: “Two sheds”. How did you come by it?
Jackson: Well, I don’t use it myself, but some of my friends call me “Two Sheds”.
Host: And do you in fact have two sheds?
Jackson: No, I’ve only got one. I’ve had one for some time, but a few years ago I said I was thinking of getting another, and since then some people have called me “Two Sheds”.
Host: In spite of the fact that you only have one.
Host: And are you still intending to purchase this second shed?
Jackson (impatient): No!
Host: …To bring you in line with your epithet?
Host: I see, I see. Well to return to your symphony.
Jackson: Ah yes.
Host: Did you write this symphony in the shed?
Jackson (surprised): No!
Host: Have you written any of your recent works in this shed of yours?
Jackson: No, no, not at all. It’s just an ordinary garden shed.
Host: I see, I see. And you’re thinking of buying this second shed to write in!
Jackson: No, no. Look. This shed business — it doesn’t really matter. The sheds aren’t important. A few friends call me Two Sheds and that’s all there is to it. I wish you’d ask me about the music. Everybody talks about the sheds. They’ve got it out of proportion — I’m a composer. I’m going to get rid of the shed. I’m fed up with it!
Host: Then you’ll be Arthur ‘No Sheds’ Jackson, eh?
Jackson: Look, forget about the sheds. They don’t matter.
Host (sternly): Mr. Jackson, I think, with respect, we ought to return to the subject of your symphony.
Host: I understand that you used to be interested in train-spotting.
Host: I understand that, about thirty years ago, you were interested in train-spotting.
Jackson: Well what’s that got to do with my bloody music?
(I clipped the end off as it went onto a tangent…big surprise)
Now for something completely different: When I first started in my new position at EMMC I was quite impressed with the setup of the new building. Being a new building, all the rugs were clean, the walls were unmarked, and the bathroom was immaculate. In the bathroom were two sinks, each with their own access to paper towel (the softest I’ve ever seen in a work-environment) and a trash bin both set into the wall. This has nothing to do with the trash, though.
A couple weeks ago I arrived at the sinks to find that the one I regularly use was missing. Gone. Someone had taken out the sink. I can’t tell you whether this was done by the company or some social deviant; I just don’t know. My point is, I guess, because of budget cutbacks, faulty plumbing or perverted sink-collecting, the men’s room on the fourth floor has had its sanitizing ability cut in half.
This didn’t particularly bother me for a while; it reminded me of a funny Monty Python sketch that I could post here for everyone’s enjoyment, but that was it. However, at a staff meeting last week a lady was given a “Wow, Good Job!” type certificate for decorating the women’s bathroom with floral arrangements in her spare time. It was at this point that I started to wonder about underlying messages in the case of the missing sink. The women get flowers, the men get a sink taken away. Is this some sort of subtle move to degrade the male population in the building? Is this a women’s-lib type protest? Is it like a college hazing? Did the women (many of which are managers/directors around this building) form a special black-op task force, enter through the air ducts in the middle of the night and perform plumbing sabotage (all without breaking a nail) in a sort of Silent Rage again a perceived “glass ceiling”?
I don’t have any in-depth philosophies about this. All I know is that it made me think of Monty Python.
(PS. There is still plenty of room to comment under The Bug, posted below. Thanks.)