Fun with labor negotiations, Vol. LXXXIV

So anyway, I'm not on strike yet.

For those not following such things (and honestly, why would you want to?), negotiations between the Verizon monkeys and the Union monkeys were making enough progress as of last night that the Union agreed to stave back the walkout while they continued talking. Which means, of course, that we're still on the job, but waiting on the proverbial pins and needles to see what happens. Not that this is affecting me at all right now, since I wasn't scheduled to work today anyway, but it's a very good sign.

We have had to make a few adjustments, though. Last night, the bunch of us (Col, Smitty, Jimmy, Cretey, etc.) had planned to show up outside the office at midnight to do the tradition Hooting and Hollering of the Union Brethren as the strikers who were on the boards walked out. We still ended up convening, but we were pretty close to the only ones who did, and of course there were no walkouts to Hoot and Holler for.

So we did the next best thing: we went to Club 22 to drink Buttery Nipples and watch the Klitoral Kabaret. We did it in solidarity. Power to the people, man.

Three thoughts

1) There are moments when you really wish you had a camera handy for posterity's sake. One of those moments came around 12:30 this afternoon, when Abbey was climbing the huge boulders in the woods near the back yard dressed in sandals and a Mighty Morphin' Power Rangers costume, carrying a yellow parasol. I can't think of anything that summarizes her personality better than that.

2) A few minutes ago, I heard the most hideous series of thuds coming from directly over the bed. Guessing by the sound and his position on the floor, Nik not only fell out of bed, he bounced. (And yes, he's fine: he was snoring away again within two minutes.)

3) I wasn't planning on writing, let alone finishing, a new song today (especially with a broken high E string), but that's what happened. It's a dopey little bouncy number, but I think I need more dopey little bouncy numbers in my repertoire, to keep audiences from slipping me their therapists' business cards after the show. I rather like it.