Dear Members and Constutuents,
Have you ever considered hiring a narrator for your day-to-day? A veritable Discovery Channel documentary commentator. You know the type, right? Someone with a deep voice who can make those ordinary tasks sound dramatic and the most mundane of decisions a matter of life or death. This style of narration has become a pandemic, infecting a large portion of the programming spectrum, spanning the range from the common reality show to the hallowed halls of scientific exploration. And while I must confess I find this trend somewhat annoying, part of me thinks it might be cool to apply it to my personal life (with a dramatic musical score, of course). I’d do it myself, but I find doing my own third person narration about events in my life a little too weird (or, eccentric if I were rich). Instead, how about I switch my attention to Art Weston (making his debut today as donut boy)? Imagine if you will Morgan Freeman, Alec Baldwin or Sigourney Weaver as she describes today’s dramatic events:
Art knows this no ordinary morning. On the line, his hero status earned yesterday by agreeing to a last-minute trade with Karin Osberg (who is on FMLA). He is all set to save the day for countless club members, but today the rubber meets the road. Any mishap this cold fall morning could render his heroic donut duty substitution fruitless. Driving to the donut store he has a singular focus. He knows the Friday Donut Club is all about one thing. Execution. He must locate and secure four dozen donuts and deliver them in time for the 8 AM rush. Failure is not an option. To this effect he left his home in South Denver at 6:15 AM as insurance of a timely arrival. By 7:22 it’s clear any time gains his early departure provided have been erased. An early rush-hour means he cannot afford another delay (and donuts are not yet purchased). Miraculously, traffic loosens-up and he makes the stop. With perfect hand-eye coordination he turns-on his blinker and enters the exit lane with just enough time to slip through the yellow traffic light. 7:28, Art’s palms sweat as he begins the selection process. He knows this decision will determine what donut club members will have available for consumption. Another close one. At the last second he realizes he has not ordered enough glazed and ignores the attendant’s stink-eye as he switches-up the selection. Disaster averted. It’s 7:45 and US 36 seems to be cooperating. Just as thoughts of early arrival cross his head, a sudden slow-down ahead brings his hopes to the floor. Unbeknownst to him, a construction crew ahead has closed-down a lane. All may be lost! With a sudden burst of inspiration, Art chooses to exit on 287 (a risky proposition that may well pay-off)…
This e-mail will continue after a message from our sponsors. If you want to know how this story ends, swing-by my desk and find-out for yourself.
Happy Friday!
Have you ever considered hiring a narrator for your day-to-day? A veritable Discovery Channel documentary commentator. You know the type, right? Someone with a deep voice who can make those ordinary tasks sound dramatic and the most mundane of decisions a matter of life or death. This style of narration has become a pandemic, infecting a large portion of the programming spectrum, spanning the range from the common reality show to the hallowed halls of scientific exploration. And while I must confess I find this trend somewhat annoying, part of me thinks it might be cool to apply it to my personal life (with a dramatic musical score, of course). I’d do it myself, but I find doing my own third person narration about events in my life a little too weird (or, eccentric if I were rich). Instead, how about I switch my attention to Art Weston (making his debut today as donut boy)? Imagine if you will Morgan Freeman, Alec Baldwin or Sigourney Weaver as she describes today’s dramatic events:
Art knows this no ordinary morning. On the line, his hero status earned yesterday by agreeing to a last-minute trade with Karin Osberg (who is on FMLA). He is all set to save the day for countless club members, but today the rubber meets the road. Any mishap this cold fall morning could render his heroic donut duty substitution fruitless. Driving to the donut store he has a singular focus. He knows the Friday Donut Club is all about one thing. Execution. He must locate and secure four dozen donuts and deliver them in time for the 8 AM rush. Failure is not an option. To this effect he left his home in South Denver at 6:15 AM as insurance of a timely arrival. By 7:22 it’s clear any time gains his early departure provided have been erased. An early rush-hour means he cannot afford another delay (and donuts are not yet purchased). Miraculously, traffic loosens-up and he makes the stop. With perfect hand-eye coordination he turns-on his blinker and enters the exit lane with just enough time to slip through the yellow traffic light. 7:28, Art’s palms sweat as he begins the selection process. He knows this decision will determine what donut club members will have available for consumption. Another close one. At the last second he realizes he has not ordered enough glazed and ignores the attendant’s stink-eye as he switches-up the selection. Disaster averted. It’s 7:45 and US 36 seems to be cooperating. Just as thoughts of early arrival cross his head, a sudden slow-down ahead brings his hopes to the floor. Unbeknownst to him, a construction crew ahead has closed-down a lane. All may be lost! With a sudden burst of inspiration, Art chooses to exit on 287 (a risky proposition that may well pay-off)…
This e-mail will continue after a message from our sponsors. If you want to know how this story ends, swing-by my desk and find-out for yourself.
Happy Friday!
Comments