Memories

I was watching the PBS documentary about SCTV today. The part about Rick Moranis reminded me of my old computer programming job at the State of Minnesota's department of Economic Security. Those were some good times, while they lasted. (When I was hired, the plan was to get the computer systems in line with new legislation to deal with upgraded unemployment insurance by a certain deadline, so much money was spent.) Anyway, there were a lot of characters I worked with while I was a civil servant. The first one I met was Al Gare. Al and I were seated next to each other, and I can't remember who started the conversation, but it got around to 'Where are you from?' I told him something like '50 miles south of the cities' or 'near Faribault,' something I tell people who I know have never heard of Kilkenny. He gets this stupid grin on his face, and says something like 'Have you heard of Morristown?' Of course, the two are small farming towns relatively close to each other, and we just died laughing. This realization led to a lot of good jokes based on the 'This sure beats throwing hay' theme. The next person Al and I ran into was Janelle P. She was the female version of Sam Kinnison. I don't think she could scream like him, but visually, she was a dead ringer. Every time her programs would bomb, we'd look at her, hoping she was about to do that patented Kinnison chuckle/scream, but she never did. Damn. Another character was Tom O'dea. Now this guy had been through a lot, and I don't know his whole story, but some said he was a sharp shooter in his healthier days. But during these days he was heavily medicated, and I'm not talking about coffee. Anyway, he could write code like nobody's business. But I think the time they caught him taking a shower in a randomly selected house, his days were numbered. And finally the guy who started it all was the mailroom guy. I don't remember his name, but one day Al pointed him out to me as he hummed the Great White North theme. I almost lost it. It was Rick Moranis! All he needed was a toque and a beer. I should've gotten a picture, eh? But there were so many others! There was the guy who didn't give us the news, but had to be Don Shelby's evil twin. His tie was a little too tight, but the chin was the giveaway. And then the woman who gave me my first Christmas card at work, Suzanne Stanke. Funny name, huh? But she looked just like one of the guitar-playing vixen in Robert Palmer's Addicted to Love video. I don't know how any programs got finished.