Septemberfest
Samuel Hughes came through. We received our first check from Silver Trout Publishing right on time. It was for ten billion wampum. I don't understand numbers, so I went up to the third floor and showed the check to the bean counters. I asked them, "How much money is this?" I knew it was useless to hit them with a straightforward question like that. Since they only care about the bottom line they will not answer a direct question for me. They know if they tell me the actual amount of money we have in the checking account or budget I will overspend it by a third, so they sandbag every answer they give me. I know this, so I automatically multiply their answer by 1/3, but since I have a hard time multiplying fractions, I usually screw up and spend even more than I think I have.
When I got the magic beans as part of the advance for Sterling Macy and the Fairies I showed the beans to the bean counters. I had nine, and they said I had six. I said, "You have an accounting degree and you can't count the beans in my hand?" One of them said, "put the number into the spreadsheet yourself," so I did, and when I entered a nine, it was changed to a six. "That's a terrible spreadsheet," I said, "Your formulas are all kafloey. Tell the idiot who made this that he should stop spending so much time on the bike and get back to work." (I said this because the accounting department has its own cycling team. They are obsessive about their bicycles, and they all get together after work and on weekends dressed in spandex and bike for hundreds of miles.) "Look, you moron," said one of them, "A pod of magic beans is never entirely magic beans. You cut magic beans just like you cut drugs. A percentage of any handful of magic beans is not intended to be magic. Any imbecile knows this, and hopefully he knows it before he strikes a deal in exchange for magic beans."
"Is that true?" I asked. "Is it true that they cut beans?" All of the accountants had gathered around me by now. There are ten of them, because you need nine riders on a bike team plus a guy to drive the little mini-mini-van with the snacks. They all shook their heads "yes". "OK," I said, "I did not know that. I apologize for doubting the bike team department. Now, what can I do with ten billion wampum? Is it enough to host an Octoberfest?"
"No," they said in unison. They suddenly seemed more like a geek chorus than a bike team. One of them said, "You would have done better to be paid in Liberian dollars."
"Yea," said another, "you should have talked them up to Turkmenistan manats!" Then they all laughed.
"Is it enough to host a 'minor' Octoberfest?" I asked. They all said "no" again, but I saw two of them hesitate for a second, so I have my answer.
Back at the Office
"We have plenty of money for Septemberfest," I said to Pee Wee. "Call German Pete and tell him that we are going to need his band and the u-haul full of lederhosen in two weeks."
"Why 'Septemberfest'?" Pee Wee asked.
"Because we can't wait until October!" I said.
"Should you do some work on the project before you start spending the money?"
You know, as long as Pee Wee has known me I sometimes wonder if he is really interested in who I am as a person. I mean, why would he ask a question like this? Doesn't he understand anything about me?
"Jill Smith is sick," I said, "She won't be here for two days. That gives me one day to plan the party and one day to work. Easy peasy lemon squeezy." There are few phrases in the English language that Pee Wee likes less than "Easy peasy lemon squeezy."
"I'll write a poll," I said, "to ask our readers what we should do."
Poll Septemberfest
When I got the magic beans as part of the advance for Sterling Macy and the Fairies I showed the beans to the bean counters. I had nine, and they said I had six. I said, "You have an accounting degree and you can't count the beans in my hand?" One of them said, "put the number into the spreadsheet yourself," so I did, and when I entered a nine, it was changed to a six. "That's a terrible spreadsheet," I said, "Your formulas are all kafloey. Tell the idiot who made this that he should stop spending so much time on the bike and get back to work." (I said this because the accounting department has its own cycling team. They are obsessive about their bicycles, and they all get together after work and on weekends dressed in spandex and bike for hundreds of miles.) "Look, you moron," said one of them, "A pod of magic beans is never entirely magic beans. You cut magic beans just like you cut drugs. A percentage of any handful of magic beans is not intended to be magic. Any imbecile knows this, and hopefully he knows it before he strikes a deal in exchange for magic beans."
"Is that true?" I asked. "Is it true that they cut beans?" All of the accountants had gathered around me by now. There are ten of them, because you need nine riders on a bike team plus a guy to drive the little mini-mini-van with the snacks. They all shook their heads "yes". "OK," I said, "I did not know that. I apologize for doubting the bike team department. Now, what can I do with ten billion wampum? Is it enough to host an Octoberfest?"
"No," they said in unison. They suddenly seemed more like a geek chorus than a bike team. One of them said, "You would have done better to be paid in Liberian dollars."
"Yea," said another, "you should have talked them up to Turkmenistan manats!" Then they all laughed.
"Is it enough to host a 'minor' Octoberfest?" I asked. They all said "no" again, but I saw two of them hesitate for a second, so I have my answer.
Back at the Office
"We have plenty of money for Septemberfest," I said to Pee Wee. "Call German Pete and tell him that we are going to need his band and the u-haul full of lederhosen in two weeks."
"Why 'Septemberfest'?" Pee Wee asked.
"Because we can't wait until October!" I said.
"Should you do some work on the project before you start spending the money?"
You know, as long as Pee Wee has known me I sometimes wonder if he is really interested in who I am as a person. I mean, why would he ask a question like this? Doesn't he understand anything about me?
"Jill Smith is sick," I said, "She won't be here for two days. That gives me one day to plan the party and one day to work. Easy peasy lemon squeezy." There are few phrases in the English language that Pee Wee likes less than "Easy peasy lemon squeezy."
"I'll write a poll," I said, "to ask our readers what we should do."
Poll Septemberfest