player hayden

One year ago today, apparently I started this blog. Thanks for the reminder, dude! I decided to celebrate by taking the day off. Have you BEEN outside? The world has to be ending tomorrow, because holy sweet hellness. It's the happiest weather. It's such good weather, that I just had a fifteen minute conversation with a total stranger on the streets of Old Town. She was wearing a "Married to the Sea" teeshirt and had sweet tats on her forearms.

Anyways, sorry I've been gone lately. There's been some Annual Jobby Meetingness to attend to. I'm done now, and I'm back to my incredibly dirty home/officestead, and I'm planning on taking the summer off to play in the sprinkler.

* * *

Kind of late and def. off-topic: I would try to add something interesting to the Hayden spew here, but honestly, I don't have much. The best I can offer is some totally boring, non-lurid tales of carelessness.

In a past life, I worked for a bombastic Italian man who was on the board of several billion organizations. Somehow, I was on his radar as a total schmuck: young, single, kind of bossy, energetic, and best of all sporting an unusually high security clearance (like I said, a lifetime ago.) Somehow, for several years in a row, I was roped into program coordinating a v. specific conference, in a v. specific city, where Hayden graced us all with his presence as a speaker. Or panelist. Whatever.

You can google it. He apparently was on the agenda for this spring, too.

This conference is a pretty minor affair, as these kinds of conferences go, but the good ol' boys network is/was veryveryvery strong. It's a chance for a bunch of old AF buddies to get together in nice weather, drink a little bit, talk a little shop, and have a golf tournament, where I was an exceedingly awesome beer cart driver.

(Hayden never played golf.)

But I do remember arranging tickets for him to watch a parade (besides my father: is there anyone who doesn't love a parade? Fact: my old man HATES parades), and secured him a dinner reservation at a restaurant that served a fierce cactus margarita.

Also, a sort-of kicker: at one point, I had his day planner. Which he forgot on a table somewhere in the convention center. Retrieved later by a very petite security detail, tiny but nevertheless armed. Big gun/little woman.

So, there you go. My brush with Hayden, and his dayplanner, before the years of PDAs, I guess. Maybe he'll be more careful with, I dunno, big important documents.

(And OH MY GOD does he look like Red, or what.)





off to play kickball with the neighborhood kids. later, office chumpolas!!!