Best of the Welcome Columns


Best of the Welcome Columns

Author: Campbell, Bruce
The Annual Column No One Will Read (2011 edition)

Ah, it’s THAT week. Every year at this time, while I slave away at my high paying, highly fulfilling day job, everybody else is off to Grass Valley. And because I’m so NOT at Grass Valley, it falls to me to keep an eye on the swanky CBA Headquarters, which occupies the entire top floor in the Monroe Tower in Ceres, California. The offices get a bit spooky when you’re the only one there. Acres of half-darkened cubicles, surrounded by empty executive offices. As I do every year, the first few hours I amuse myself by photocopying parts of my body and faxing them to the CBA’s legal team in Blanket. Next, I snoop. Not everybody locks their office in the CBA HQ and nobody can lock a cubicle. Here’s a chance to learn a little more about my cohorts in the CBA. Rick Cornish’s office is no mystery. At first, the walk-in closet with its rows of tie-dyed tank tops was amusing, but now I’m used to it. Ditto the Barry Manilow shrine. This year, I was a little disturbed by the bag of goldfish crackers, because every single cracker fish was missing its head. I’m sure there’s a rational explanation. I poke around Montie Elston’s office. Predictably, it’s neat and orderly. Treadmill and gravity boots are neatly aligned and gleaming. I open a desk drawer – what’s this? Oh, I’ve hit the mother lode! It’s a neatly typed list, and the heading at the top says “Bands Who Will Never Get to Play the Father’s Day Festival”. I’ve heard rumors of this document, but I always assumed it was an urban myth. Good news: YOUR band is NOT on the list! I glance over at Marcos Alvira’s cubicle and nearly swallow my gum. There’s Dodger memorabilia everywhere! What’s this? A framed picture with Marcos and Tommy Lasorda, water skiing? And it’s signed “Thanks for the water skiing lessons! Love, Tommy!” Well, I’m shocked! Shocked! You think you know a guy, and then you see something like this.. Frankly, I’m a little shaken. Without all the hustle and bustle of a typical day at CBA HQ, with the rows of stenographers typing away on their IBM Selectrics, and the clatter of the ticker tape machine in the corner, the place seems way too gloomy. I can’t wait to get away and head for Grass Valley. I shiver, then stride to the office door, set the alarm, release the pack of vicious Rottweilers, lock the door and head for home. Grass Valley, here I com

Posted: 6/15/2011