Hometown Hobbies

I work for a health insurance company as a claim processor. The company is actually pretty great to work for, which people are always surprised to hear. I've been referred to as a "soul-sucking beurocrat" by over-zealous liberals, even though they don't even know what company I work for or anything. Oh well. I have come to realize that people generally suspect the worst about any kind of entity that costs them money.... which is why I don't understand the blind acceptance of government agencies by these same people, but whatever. Discussion for another time.


My company is a not-for-profit company and is very focused on community involvement and volunteer work. They encourage the formation of a bajillion employee committees to improve charitable activites and volunteerism, and they want to bring it into the workplace as much as possible without affecting productivity (naturally). One of the things the employee involvement committee in my area has decided to is give everyone a sheet of paper to write about what we do in our spare time and include a photo or two. Then they hang these papers on a bulletin board in the center of the department so people can stop and learn things about their co-workers they wouldn't otherwise have known.

I thought this was a pretty good idea, if for no other reason than it gave me a way to kill 15 minutes of time that I otherwise didn't want to spend working. Seriously, the prospect of maternity leave is so delightful that it's making me really not care so much about the quality or quantity of my work. It's pretty bad. I've been spending extensive time mocking the stupid names that people pick for their children (like two people in the same family with the legal first name of "Sweetheart") and dancing in my seat to the Newsies soundtrack. Really, what's better than Christian Bale singing about the joys of "Sante Fe"? Nothing, that's what.

There's nothing like the prospect of 5 months of vacation to make you loathe your job and fantasize about getting fired.

Anyway, on this sheet of paper I wrote about my involvement in music. I wrote that I sing opera at the community college, jazz with friends from another town's college, that I play piano on my own time (sparingly, but they don't need to know the details of my laziness). I also posted some pictures that I may or may not have printed out using the company copy machines. Whatever. I'm the only who knows how to replace the toner in those damn machines so I deserve special priviliges. Right? Right. My page was hung up with the others that showcased news clippings about peoples' children or pictures of them at concerts of their favorite country artists, or photos of them at the rodeo. .....Most of the people at my work are a little bit country.

So as people walk by this board they are all stopping and reading my page because it's the most recent addition, and they walk away looking completely confused. I can't figure it out, there's nothing confusing about my narrative or my photos, nothing inappropriate or anything.

Finally a lady stops at my desk and inquires about my music hobbies.

"So.... you sing opera? Like.... viking helmet kind of opera? That's so interesting. But I didn't think there was anybody in Redding that did that kind of thing. And I didn't think you could sing both opera and jazz. That's so interesting."

Sigh. Sometimes I forget that the little city I live in is completely unaware of what happens in the outside world.

I politely explained to her that you can, in fact, sing as many different types of music as you want, and that the local community college has a great opera program that does a show every year and that opera isn't nearly as boring as people think. And that it doesn't always involve viking helmets. She seemed receptive, but I was still getting weird looks from people all day. Maybe if the viking helmet was replaced by a cowboy hat they'd be less likely to find my hobby so strange. I could write an opera that featured a romance between a middle-aged country woman and a young, shirtless and obviously ripped ranch-hand with a penchant for classic rock. I could call it "Getting' Randy and Livin' Rowdy: A country woman's passion" or something.

I have made it my mission to expose these people to as much new culture as possible. I hope they're prepared. But it'll have to wait until December because I'm out of here as of tomorrow. I will then be spending glorious time at home trying to recreate Christina Bale's cowboy dance from the "Sante Fe" scene of Newsies.