Document text
WEDNESDAY February 11, 2004 - Subscribe - Contact Us - Rate Card Valley&State Backpage O&E Sports Archives Classifieds Faith&Beliefs Obituaries Revels January 24, 2004 Pugh's Muse Full-time mantra Lance Pugh I pride myself in keeping current in all things technological, from nanotechnology to Hubble-Visions. Speak to me of operating systems, software upgrades, Internet technologies, megabits vs. megabytes and, at best, you'll get a yawn, for these things are like throw-rugs in my living room: well worn and thoroughly known. Now we all get the same spam. Don't pretend you're the only one who gets the sweet deals on patches, creams, pills, mortgages and weight-loss. I'm told that if I purchased enough of these products I'd make a million dollars a day, have a swimming pool full of vixens and have the body of a buff cyborg. One night last week, sleepless and restless as usual, I visited a Web site which seemed to hold promise for a new beginning. It was, basically, an employment agency, though with a more advanced interface ... definitely for me. It began with a test, a virtual reality jaunt through a world of technology challenges. By the time I had vanquished all the avatars and been awarded the Golden Chalice I received a phone call ... and a job offer! I was told that I'd be showered with money, housed in opulence, provided with a princely wardrobe, dined world-class and pampered like the pious. I was to be flown halfway around the world to see if I would like my new job. Not a bad deal at first glance. They certainly knew how to curry my favor. My assignment was to oversee a pack of Pakistanis who were rewriting the instructions on how to assemble a barbeque, this in a fashion that Americans might actually have a chance of accomplishing the task. I figured that I knew the end product pretty well and could take the heat. It was only after I was sitting in a limo, both arms draped with svelte feminine deal memos, that I began to feel that something was amiss. My airline ticket was First Class, but the destination distant: India. I soon let my concern dissipate as I was escorted through Homeland Defense and onto the aircraft. Just as the aircraft was to depart, my companions vanished and I was tossed into coach, seated in between two of the largest persons on Earth. I could only breathe when they exhaled, so the entire flight was a prolonged Lamaze experience. As we deplaned, many hours later, I held onto my fellow passengers, confident that I could not breathe without them. I was picked up by a cab, which sped away with my luggage still at the curb. I waved at 6-7 million people as the cab bobbled and wobbled its' way through a sea of humanity, this with the engine off, for it was the motion of the masses which propelled us. Eventually I arrived at my destination, this being deduced by my prompt ejection from the cab in front of a nameless door in an unknown alley. I quickly stood up, dusted myself off and entered my calling, eager to know what lay ahead. Seconds later I was greeted by tall, stern man who asked for my paperwork. Within 5 minutes I was ushered into the confines of a small cubicle, in which I was to remain until directed otherwise. My tasks appeared on the monitor every 5 minutes. I was taking orders for fruit packages, providing support for all makes of computers and software, building Web sites and managing people's financial affairs. It came as a surprise that the workday lasted 16 hours and that no time was allowed for bathroom breaks, water cooler wisdom or food. At the end of my shift I was shown to a closet, handed a breakfast bar, bowl of rice, pillow and an employee's manual, which was difficult to read, as it was dark and was written by the Grill Guys. Through the keyhole enough light invaded to allow a flicker of enlightenment. I could either work there for the rest of my life or round up a dowry and throw myself at the mercy of the streets. The revelation finally hit me. There are plenty of jobs, if you are willing to travel and live in a closet off an alley. I could only repeat: "Home, Mammy, Pappy, Home," over and over again until I drifted off. It's the New America. Lance was last seen adorned in flowing robes, barefoot, heading toward Tibet. Sanskrit him by etching: [email protected]. DailyTidings.com Home Page Valley&State | Backpage | O&E | Sports | Archives | Weather | Classifieds Columnists | Faith&Beliefs | Obituaries | Revels | Subscribe | Contact Us Copyright 2004 Ashland Daily Tidings and Ottaway Newspapers All Rights Reserved Site Search: A new improved archive search is coming! Look for it in mid-February! .:Advertisements:. RESOURCES - ODOT Road Cams