Jumping To Conclusions

My boss was on a roll this morning. Sometimes, he likes to play music in his office. Loudly. This is our fault, since we banded together last Christmas to buy him some kick-ass speakers for his computer. Obviously, he likes them. Call it the gift that keeps on giving.

Not that I mind. I love music. And I love that I work for a company where my boss plays music in his office loudly.

It all started with Kris Kross, “Jump.” Next up was House of Pain’s “Jump Around.” Followed by Van Halen’s “Jump” and The Rolling Stones’ “Jumpin’ Jack Flash.”

“This may be a leap,” I said. “But I’m beginning to sense a theme here.”

“Apache (Jump On It)” confirmed my suspicions. I’d never heard it before, but I was familiar enough with The Sugar Hill Gang. By now we were all offering up suggestions. “How about The Pointer Sisters?” I said. Ask and ye shall receive: “Jump (For My Love)” came on next. Dan requested some Third Eye Blind, and was rewarded with “Jumpers.” The Brian Setzer Orchestra dazzled us with “Jump, Jive An’ Wail.” And then, my boss dug really deep and got creative. He went back to the Beetlejuice soundtrack for Harry Belafonte’s “Jump The Line (Shake Senora).” Just try not to dance in your chair while that one is playing.

This made me realize A. How much I like Michael Keaton, and 2. How cool Beetlejuice was. I think perhaps this weekend we’ll have to dust it off and watch it again.

The jump-themed music marathon may have been a bit distracting and interfered with productivity for half an hour or so (err…longer, since I’m now writing a blog post based on the whole incident), but boy, was it fun.

I love working here.

When I mentioned all this on Facebook, my friends suggested that maybe he was trying to send us a subliminal message. “Lock the window!” somebody wrote. Well, our building is just a single story, so that isn’t an issue. Even if you leaped from the roof you might skin your knee when landing on the grass, at worst. Perhaps he was letting us know that we should get a “jump” on the paperwork piling up on our desks? But…if so…

Why was he distracting us with loud and catchy music?!

The plot thickens.

In other news, once upon a time I had kids that I used to write about…

OK, Rusty and Audrey still exist. And they’re alive and well. I think. They never come out of their rooms long enough for me to know for sure. This is because they have been infected with a mysterious affliction known as

teen·ag·er·itis

I always knew the day would come. Well, the day came nearly five years ago, when Rusty turned 13. But Audrey just reached the mark a month and a half ago, so this experience of having two teenagers is new to me. You know how they say it’s better to have more than one of something?

They lied.

OK, okay. I don’t mean to sound so harsh. I love my kids, I do. I just don’t love this particular period in their lives, but as with all things, this too shall pass. And big changes are ahead. Rusty graduates from high school next week. Beyond that, the going-back-and-forth-every-other-week custody arrangement we’ve had for almost seven years will be coming to an end. The boy will be an adult in a month, and the girl is tired of living out of a suitcase. I can’t say I blame her. I never wanted this for my kids, and have to give them credit for weathering the divorce storm admirably over the years. I know it hasn’t been easy, and I can’t relate, as my parents are still together 46 years later. I appreciate the sacrifices my kids have made, and hope that one day they will appreciate all I’ve done for them. Teenageritis gets in the way of that, but hopefully someday they’ll know.

Anyway. Rusty will be living with his mother for a couple of years while attending community college, before heading to California to continue his studies. That’s the plan, at least. Audrey is undecided at this point. She’s welcome at either house – we just want her to feel like she’s got a permanent home. Tara and I made our pitch to her last night, and I kind of felt like a football recruiter trying to woo her to our team with an incentive-laden contract.

“We’ll decorate your room with new paint and curtains!”
“We’ll let you help plan meals and do fun things!”
“We’ll give you $10,000 every time you sack the opposing team’s quarterback!”

OK, everything but that last part. Like I said, we just want her to be happy, and will support whatever decision she makes. And we told her she doesn’t have to jump into anything right away.

See what I did there?