Skip to main content

Donuts will be in at 9:00

Folks,
 
Sorry for the delay. I traded spots with Joe Salame and cannot make it into the office until 9… my sincere apologies, but perhaps just the thought that donuts will be in will hold you over until they are ready. Also, those donuts will taste that much sweeter due to the wait ;-)
Thanks,
-JP

=================
Gentlemen (and lady),

 
I will be traveling to Ecuador for a month starting on 7/20 and returning 8/20. During this time each of you will be "donut boy/girl" (I'll let you decide which description matches best).

Fate has put it in your hands to maintain the Friday donut club as the vibrant institution it has become. There should be a reminder already set on your calendar to go off the day before you need to bring donuts in. If for any reason you cannot make it, please trade with someone else or have someone else bring the donuts in on your behalf (as well as follow the requests below).

My schedule shows the following order.
  • 7/23 Rex Engelking
  • 7/30 Stacy Jackson
  • 8/6 Oliver Davis
  • 8/13 Mike Coar
Here are a few simple requests for you during my absence.
  • On your designated day, make sure there are donuts by 8:00 am (yeah, I know, I should talk… look at the time I brought donuts in today)
  • Keep the donuts at your desk (optionally you could leave them at mine)
  • Send out an e-mail to this distribution list announcing donuts have arrived and where they are at. (you can copy this list and paste it onto the "To" field)
Writer, Bart;
Wilson, Matt;
Tofel, Yvonne;
Shimizu, Richard;
Tofel, Yvonne;
Engelking, Rex;
Jackson, Stacy;
Davis, Oliver;
Coar, Mike;
Carroll, Kim;
Bonilla, Carlton;
Allen, Jeff;
Salame, Joseph;
Kupferer, Janis;
DiGeronimo, Richard;
Wolfe, Christian
 
• Most importantly have fun, because I know I will be having a blast.
Thanks, and enjoy the donuts.

Comments

Popular posts from this blog

Love and Marriage go together like a Horse and... Donut!

Friends, My family gained a new daughter last week. As I welcome the freshly minted Mrs. González, I wish the new couple a lasting, loving, happy and tranquil marriage. I am also reminded of a special delivery I received at the wedding. A few weeks ago, my niece/goddaughter held a “go fund me” and offered to stitch something for the donors. I, of corse, asked for a horse jumping through a donut. The completed masterpiece depicting this unlikely combo now has a special place in my office, and brings a smile to my face every time I see it. That said, I may forgo the obligatory donut today and opt for some of the leftover cake we still have at the house. Happy Friday!   New addition to the Family Horse through donut  with the artist   Horse through donut at it’s new home shelf P.S. The donut wall in action.

Anthropomorphic Donuts

Friends, The human form is the measure by which we frame the world around us. We are, after all, most familiar with (and full of) ourselves. Take the friendly elevator at Shift, the coworking environment where I sometimes migrate to change scenery. It’s no more or less efficient than other elevators, yet, the illusion of a smiley face created by the card reader’s reflection makes the space just a tad more endearing. The elevator could, for all I know, be an evil machine plotting my demise. Nah! Who am I kidding, it can’t be. What with its symmetric “eyes” and understated grin. Nothing so cute could possibly be waiting for the right moment to plunge me to my grave from the top floor. Could it? Another example: receiving two thumbs up is universally accepted as a sign of having done a great job. Unless, of course, if it’s coming from a koala bear. With two opposable thumbs in each hand, anything short of four thumbs has room for improvement. Which leads me to donuts. Last week’s expedit

THE Oasis

Friends, The book  Ready Player One  sent me down memory lane this week. The journey was not triggered by the author’s excessive references to the 1980s, which border on obsessive. Rather, it was the name of the massive virtual reality simulation used by characters in this dystopian future to escape their grim surroundings: The OASIS. You see, that was also the name of my grandfather’s country estate, the setting where a disproportionate share of my treasured childhood memories were created.  La Quinta Oasis was a bucolic old whitewashed house with a massive stone staircase, three foot thick adobe walls and wooden window shutters that, when closed at night, would submerge the residence in pitch darkness. With no running water, electricity, phone or indoor plumbing, the only modern convenience was the battery transistor radio on which my uncles would listen to “Chucho el Roto”, a radio soap opera. The Spanish fighting roosters crowed long before sunrise, making it difficult to fall back