The institutional mouthpiece of Kjel.org

Last night I watched the Intern experience an emotion that I haven’t seen in him before: blinding white-hot soul-searing rage. It made me smile.

The boy had crawled up to our wine rack and reached in and grabbed one of the bottles. The door to the cabinet was latched closed from the inside, so the boy could grab a bottle but then not pull it out. This infuriated him. The Intern is generally a smiley, happy baby, so it was great to see something different from him: black hatred for that wine rack door. I am pretty sure now that the lad is not blessed with pyrokinesis, or else that rack would have certainly burst into flames already. I was also happy (and a little bit sad) that the rage didn’t turn him into a small Incredible Hulk and he didn’t just rip the offending door off the rack and break it over his knee. Oh well, I’m sure he’s got something going for him, we’ll just have to figure out what.

A photo recently sent to me from the Edumacator’s wedding. I believe it is captioned “Two drought and famine resistant gentlemen bookend three normals as all await the entrance of the Chief Bride.”

Chief Sniper may we never, ever fight again, at least not unless we’re tag team partners. Or you are on crutches and/or in a wheelchair. I’ll go easy with the elbows in that case, but not too easy. Run me over if you can.

Yesterday, I went to the office and worked. What did the Chief Bride do yesterday?

Dammit.

When it finally happened the deal went down quick. There were offers and counter-offers; the CEO was required to rapidly research certain aspects of tax law and then do a few back of the envelope (back of my left hand with a sharpie, actually) time value of money calculations and what not. Turns out it all made sense. Kjel.org accepted an offer to sell the current HQ this last Friday. Not the price we wanted, but in this market we are happy to get it done at all. It looks like my plans for faking my own death were perhaps a wee bit premature, but I won’t actually exhale until the closing documents are signed. And I get paid.

Why am I praising the 21st century (and Jebus)? : I did the majority of the above negotiations while standing ankle deep in Lake Chelan helping a certain three year old build an annex to the giant sand castle we’d constructed earlier that day. “Daddy, more mud!” Ring! “Sorry Stinkboy, gotta take this.” Hello? Hmm. Okay. Tell them no on #1, no on #2, and yes on #3. When they come back we’ll bend on #2 if need be but not on #1. “Where was I? Oh yeah: Stinky, here comes the mud!!”

Not much later I was knee deep in the lake chasing ducks with the Jr VP when I had to actually yell “sounds good — do it!” into the phone: the other kids playing in the water were very loud and my people in Portland couldn’t hear me otherwise.

Years ago this sort of deal would have required six people around a conference table for several hours at least. The deal for me the other day? No table. Sun, water, sand castles, harrassed ducks, lime flavored alcoholic beverages, the prevention of drowning for certain small boys, and modern mobile phones. Advantage, 21st century.

The sale of the current HQ closes Aug 11 if everything is found to be in order. If anyone should contact you asking about the HQ or for details regarding certain members of Kjel.org you just say “no comment” and then call me. Gracias.

Available soon, first in the Fine Furnishings department of various upscale retailers. Gourmet grocery stores soon thereafter. Eventually mall kiosks and certain Plaid Pantries. Then, finally, on homeless people and present in the news coverage of various disaster and third world relief efforts.

Kjel.org update: we’ve set a move date of August 9. We’ve finally wised up and are hiring professionals to handle the move. I plan on drinking mai tais on the new deck while those guys struggle to get my bed upstairs. I might close the blinds first I think.

Anyone out there looking to purchase a three bedroom home in far southwest Portland? Price recently lowered. Again.

Coming this winter if the housing market doesn’t pick up: “Señor [CEO]? No lo conozco. Lo siento, me llamo Miguel Sanchez.”

One final note: there is a house on Miles Court right now that is chock full of new presents. I have a key if anyone wants to go over and pick through them. Some of those new towels looked awfully nice . . . Let me know.

Certain notes used by the CEO are below. They are close to what was actually said on Saturday. The words on the page weren’t meant to be read verbatim since I know I can’t write dialogue: I knew there’d be significant deviation once the CEO’s big yap started flapping. And I was pretty sure all would be fine. Misplaced or not I can usually convince myself that “when it comes time I’ll be fine” on these kinds of things and I was right yet again. It was fine.

Ten minutes prior to the toast I re-read my notes 4 times, noted the weak spots and considered a few additions, thought about pacing, pounded 4 pints of IPA, and then bullshitted with the CTO (the Kjel.org Ohio rep) until it was my time to go on. The Chief Educator was flying on adrenalin and gave a killer intro, then the CEO was up. Last step before speaking: Chief Sniper, hold my beer and watch this!:

Back in April when I told my mom that M [side note: so, so difficult not to call him Mulk during the speech] was engaged, her response was “Are you going to be alright?” The question took me by surprise. “Alright? What are you talking about? I couldn’t possibly be happier for him. I mean c’mon, it’s A. M and A are great together. Everyone loves A. What do you mean?” Mom came back with “You’re not mad that she’s stealing your best friend?” “Hmm. Funny, I hadn’t thought of it that way. Now that you mention it . . . Wait a minute here. . .Whoa. . . Whoa! . . . That evil . . .!!” I didn’t speak to Amy for 10 months after that.

Of course I’ve got nothing but joy in seeing this finally happen. I’ve known M a long, looonnng time. Several years back there were times where it looked like M might never find an A. So busy with work, didn’t have time to meet people, and on the rare occasion that he did go out, look at his wingman. Not helpful.

M was working a lot, what with the teaching, coaching, and grading at home — it’s like he was married to the kids. Figuratively, of course.

Then came one magical evening in 2003 and the world as I knew it turned upside down. M and A were going to get married. That night I knew it for certain even if neither of them did, and that me being here doing this tonight was inevitable. In-evit-able!!

I remember the night in question quite clearly. At least the early parts of it. M and I had been two gentlemen about town that evening and eventually ended up our evening at the Lucky Lab. After an hour or two we decided it was time to go home. Since we were so, uh, tired at this point neither of us really felt up to driving. I told M “I’ll call my wife. I’m sure she’ll be thrilled to come pick us up. Nothing could make her happier!” He said “No, I’ll call Amy”. Huh? I didn’t even have to hear the words. It was the grin. I’d never seen one like it on M before, but I knew exactly what is meant. A switch in my slow-working brain flipped: M and A are going to get married. Awesome! I called it right then and there. It’s not too often that I’m right, so I enjoy it when I am. I’ve never been happier about making the right call than I am right now.

M and A, [the CFO] and I are so happy for you guys that I can’t even describe it or even put it into words. Well done.

So, on this wonderful day, with all of us gathered here today, I propose a toast: to M and A Mukliren! Here here!

In case you kids didn’t recognize it at the time, Kjel.org means it. Congrats you two.

Writing speeches is hard. Thank God I’ve got a deep well of cheap racist and/or homophobic jokes to fall back on, or I’d be totally sunk.