Merlot's Task Widens
Greetings Voignier and kind readers,
Yesterday we were made aware of the true nature of our task here on the road. Things were made clear as we pulled into University of Miami, where upon parking Michael Dryasdust made a short speech concerning our respective roles. It appears that Michael from this day forward wants to be known by an alias, "Mike Dryer", and his title will not be "Road Manager", but Director of Public Communications. His role will be approaching sorority houses to offer free boxed wine for company sponsored frat and sorority parties. "Mike", if you will, made it clear that nobody on the bus was authorized to offer college students boxed wine except for himself, under his assumed name.
Dr. Emily and I exchanged knowing glances, as "Mike" continued, and we wondered where this new skullduggery would end. My task, as it turns out, shall be administrative relation", as he put it and to generally "backstop the operation" as he put it, as if quoting from a Tom Clancy novel. My duties will require that I meet with university leaders to assure them that our efforts will not corrupt the youth, if you will, and to "keep their names out of the paper". And under not circumstances shall our boxed wine campaign on their campus lead to negative publicity, which "will close us down faster than a gang rape at a hockey team party," as Mike put it, as if speaking from experience. It was at this point that Dr. Emily attempted to excuse herself and leave the bus, to which Mike placed himself in front of the door, with his new personal assistant and "Director of Security Services", Ronald Bodean, (or "Ronbo" as we were encouraged to call him), a retired police officer of some kind, with a kind of cowboy's sense of style. And what happened next we as if we were watching a dream.
As Dr. Emily attempted to excuse herself in pass Mike, he turned and flashed Ronbo a nod, which lead Ronbo to raise his hand to constrain Dr. Emily, in a forceful, if polite way, as he uttered "now wait a second mame..." . What happened next is something of a blur, because it happened with such speed, and presice execution that I am not sure I saw what I think I saw. It seems that Mr. Ito had been standing just a short distance in the most unobtrusive way. I can only say that he was virtually invisible to me, until his left hand lashed out and made contact with Ronbo's Adam's apple, if you will. Mr. Ito, apparently perceived a threat, and responded reflexively, as his martial art train had lead him to respond. Ronbo, for his part, double over, and sat down in the front seat of the bus, facing forward, resigned to let Dr. Emily pass, and leave the bus. When done moving, Mr. Ito wound up squarely behind Mike, who was unaware of what transpired, until the driver opened the bus door. When Mike turned, in anger, he was standing face to face with Mr. Ito, he stopped short in the middle of what appeared to be an angry fit toward Dr. Emily, who was by now off the bus. Clearly, Mr. Ito would be playing a key role in tour security.
As Mike recovered himself and continued his "short outline", I was directed to give myself a new, technology related title and a new name, by which I should conduct business for our sponsor. And so, apparently, the task requires that we mislead university provost, chancellors, deans and bursars on a regular basis, which was troubling for us, from an ethical standpoint. When I raise questions, Mike handed me his cellphone, and directed me to talk to "sMurf," or Thomas Murphy, the director of security for our sponsor. "The sMurf", as he is called in the halls of power at the company and inside Washington's beltway, explained that the company had indeed directed Mike to explain these measures in his own ham fisted way. Smurf assured me that a d/b/a had be established for me to use in this regard and that the joint venture that had been formed to diffuse liabilities among the companies sponsoring our tour. He instructed me, over speaker-cell phone that I would be known as Frode Wallhour, Director of Disruptive Techonologies in the course of my business. Furthermore, Mr. Ito, was to be called Mr. Kato Greenburg, and our staff of researchers from The Riverside Park was to be doulbed, creating 4 more jobs for our friends from across the West Side Drive, who are currently making an adiquate living collecting bottles and cans in Manhattan. When I explained that hiring them would disrupt our core business, which is to collect data about wine consumption in Manhattan, he balked, and demanded that we get 4 more "bodies on that bus by Friday".
Truthfully, this did take us aback, and we promised him that we would have to give it some thought before proceeding, as which point he offered to double our consulting fees, to which we asked to speak with in-house corporate counsel before excepting. And he immediately transferred our call. After speaking at length, and review certain provisions to "hold harmless", we agreed to proceed.
And so, last night, we began our mission, which we christened "boxedops," in a half humorous allusion to "Mike Dryer's" lingo, which appears enmeshed in a National Security ethos. Three things happened. First we doubled Mr. Ito's salary and promoted him to the title "Security Director", choosing the active voice, over the more passive "Director of Security" which was given and withdrawn from "Ronbo". Second, we ran out of boxed wine, which lead to a minor SNAFU, which Mike and Ronbo were assigned to "fix fast at any cost", by The Smurf, who is apparently the true director of Boxedops going forward, in spite of Mike's chagrin. The frat party had apparently turned into quite a hit, where the children of several notable celebrities and public figures showed up after recieving text messages to the effect that Boxedop v.001 was a "kickin party" that was "off the hook," if you will.
And third, Dr. Emily and I spent the entire evening "cooling, our marks" if you will, the Dean of Students, Barnard Childs and his wife Rebecca, and the Chancelor, David Jontz, with his wife Carol, at Joe's Stone Crab at South Beach, where we discussed and sampled the most expensive wines in the house, until the administrators and their wives requested to be driven home by Gary, our personal assistant with an very good knowledge of Miami streets, having served on the Miami Police department for 15 years. Gary later reported that he was requested to drop the party of four off at an after hours club that he was not aware existed.
Yesterday we were made aware of the true nature of our task here on the road. Things were made clear as we pulled into University of Miami, where upon parking Michael Dryasdust made a short speech concerning our respective roles. It appears that Michael from this day forward wants to be known by an alias, "Mike Dryer", and his title will not be "Road Manager", but Director of Public Communications. His role will be approaching sorority houses to offer free boxed wine for company sponsored frat and sorority parties. "Mike", if you will, made it clear that nobody on the bus was authorized to offer college students boxed wine except for himself, under his assumed name.
Dr. Emily and I exchanged knowing glances, as "Mike" continued, and we wondered where this new skullduggery would end. My task, as it turns out, shall be administrative relation", as he put it and to generally "backstop the operation" as he put it, as if quoting from a Tom Clancy novel. My duties will require that I meet with university leaders to assure them that our efforts will not corrupt the youth, if you will, and to "keep their names out of the paper". And under not circumstances shall our boxed wine campaign on their campus lead to negative publicity, which "will close us down faster than a gang rape at a hockey team party," as Mike put it, as if speaking from experience. It was at this point that Dr. Emily attempted to excuse herself and leave the bus, to which Mike placed himself in front of the door, with his new personal assistant and "Director of Security Services", Ronald Bodean, (or "Ronbo" as we were encouraged to call him), a retired police officer of some kind, with a kind of cowboy's sense of style. And what happened next we as if we were watching a dream.
As Dr. Emily attempted to excuse herself in pass Mike, he turned and flashed Ronbo a nod, which lead Ronbo to raise his hand to constrain Dr. Emily, in a forceful, if polite way, as he uttered "now wait a second mame..." . What happened next is something of a blur, because it happened with such speed, and presice execution that I am not sure I saw what I think I saw. It seems that Mr. Ito had been standing just a short distance in the most unobtrusive way. I can only say that he was virtually invisible to me, until his left hand lashed out and made contact with Ronbo's Adam's apple, if you will. Mr. Ito, apparently perceived a threat, and responded reflexively, as his martial art train had lead him to respond. Ronbo, for his part, double over, and sat down in the front seat of the bus, facing forward, resigned to let Dr. Emily pass, and leave the bus. When done moving, Mr. Ito wound up squarely behind Mike, who was unaware of what transpired, until the driver opened the bus door. When Mike turned, in anger, he was standing face to face with Mr. Ito, he stopped short in the middle of what appeared to be an angry fit toward Dr. Emily, who was by now off the bus. Clearly, Mr. Ito would be playing a key role in tour security.
As Mike recovered himself and continued his "short outline", I was directed to give myself a new, technology related title and a new name, by which I should conduct business for our sponsor. And so, apparently, the task requires that we mislead university provost, chancellors, deans and bursars on a regular basis, which was troubling for us, from an ethical standpoint. When I raise questions, Mike handed me his cellphone, and directed me to talk to "sMurf," or Thomas Murphy, the director of security for our sponsor. "The sMurf", as he is called in the halls of power at the company and inside Washington's beltway, explained that the company had indeed directed Mike to explain these measures in his own ham fisted way. Smurf assured me that a d/b/a had be established for me to use in this regard and that the joint venture that had been formed to diffuse liabilities among the companies sponsoring our tour. He instructed me, over speaker-cell phone that I would be known as Frode Wallhour, Director of Disruptive Techonologies in the course of my business. Furthermore, Mr. Ito, was to be called Mr. Kato Greenburg, and our staff of researchers from The Riverside Park was to be doulbed, creating 4 more jobs for our friends from across the West Side Drive, who are currently making an adiquate living collecting bottles and cans in Manhattan. When I explained that hiring them would disrupt our core business, which is to collect data about wine consumption in Manhattan, he balked, and demanded that we get 4 more "bodies on that bus by Friday".
Truthfully, this did take us aback, and we promised him that we would have to give it some thought before proceeding, as which point he offered to double our consulting fees, to which we asked to speak with in-house corporate counsel before excepting. And he immediately transferred our call. After speaking at length, and review certain provisions to "hold harmless", we agreed to proceed.
And so, last night, we began our mission, which we christened "boxedops," in a half humorous allusion to "Mike Dryer's" lingo, which appears enmeshed in a National Security ethos. Three things happened. First we doubled Mr. Ito's salary and promoted him to the title "Security Director", choosing the active voice, over the more passive "Director of Security" which was given and withdrawn from "Ronbo". Second, we ran out of boxed wine, which lead to a minor SNAFU, which Mike and Ronbo were assigned to "fix fast at any cost", by The Smurf, who is apparently the true director of Boxedops going forward, in spite of Mike's chagrin. The frat party had apparently turned into quite a hit, where the children of several notable celebrities and public figures showed up after recieving text messages to the effect that Boxedop v.001 was a "kickin party" that was "off the hook," if you will.
And third, Dr. Emily and I spent the entire evening "cooling, our marks" if you will, the Dean of Students, Barnard Childs and his wife Rebecca, and the Chancelor, David Jontz, with his wife Carol, at Joe's Stone Crab at South Beach, where we discussed and sampled the most expensive wines in the house, until the administrators and their wives requested to be driven home by Gary, our personal assistant with an very good knowledge of Miami streets, having served on the Miami Police department for 15 years. Gary later reported that he was requested to drop the party of four off at an after hours club that he was not aware existed.
posted by BoxedMerlot @ 10:22 AM
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