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Published by DooZer Bic

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Published by: DooZer Bic on Nov 19, 2008
Copyright:Attribution Non-commercial


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Dear Diatribe;

I had hoped to sleep in against Geeta\u2019s wishes this morning.
She woke me by nudging my shoulder with the telephone. A sad
Swan Song ensued.

Scott Swanson is the Swan Song, or that is what I called
him when we worked together. The news, although not unexpected,
was jarring. His wife had passed away. She had been ill for
years. She had died six weeks ago. He was so busy, he hadn\u2019t
thought of me at the time. Of course that wasn\u2019t a problem. I
just really felt for him and felt guilty for not having been
around myself. I sent him an e-mail two days ago about my new
search for a contract gig. He is the one guy that I knew would
help any way he could, feeling he owed me a bit.

I had last talked to him four months ago. He called to seek
my help in his own job search. He was just laid off by the
company where I had been consulting when we met.

I had tried to recruit him to work at the Medical systems
company I was at a year ago. I had the managers excited about
him. He was perfect for it, and I thought he would be a
lifesaver for me some projects. The company was a startup, based
in Birmingham, AL. They had some operations deep in the suburbs,
near where Scott lives. He lives about fifteen miles further

out than Woodstock, IL.

He told me that I should come by because Lorraine was in
the hospital and would like to see me. That motivated my
assistance with his employment. Health care costs would break
him in more ways than financial if they lost their insurance.

Luckily, I called back that Medical firm, they snapped him up. He got the job himself, but he was real appreciative about my efforts.

Years ago, his wife Lorraine had both legs amputated below
the knee and she was on dialysis. Scott\u2019s face is not one that
you are likely to see in a romantic comedy but there is
quixoticism to him that is legitimately endearing. He saw her
through all of it to the end.

After dropping the bomb about his wife, he moved into a
casual \u201cWhat\u2019s going on with you?\u201d What is the best thing to say
there? \u201cMy friend\u2019s wife just died and I am a bit flustered?
And the friend is you!\u201d In the end, he was really longing for
conversation with a friend. It had been six weeks and his
immediate grief and sorrow were in remission. Now he was
feeling forlorn and unbefriended. I have a responsibility now;
to me this is more than what I received the last night.

How can it be more though? My relationship with Geeta is
clearly top priority. My work for Gerhardstein is what satisfies
her erroneous conclusions that I have some value. Then again,
this is hardly a conflict worth laboring over.

I have gotten this far into my Tribe without addressing the
topic of the day. I would say that Lorraine\u2019s death should be
considered as the topic of six weeks ago. I just didn\u2019t know it
was a topic then, and it needed be covered.

It is almost noon; I will finish off last night with you
Tribe, and then do the work (that is what last night is about) I
need to do some things.

Geeta produced a file folder and handed me a stack of
Diatribe papers this morning from Gerhardstein. It raised my
eyebrows that she was editing my Tribes for him. She has
expanded that short summary doc into more than twenty pages.

She also edited to make sure that it was expunged of
phrases like \u201cNeed toilet paper\u201d or \u201cI like Jesus, It\u2019s just
that his dad is a real prick\u201d. Both of those were actually
embedded in the pages I shared with Gerhardstein. In total, he
has more than 350 pages of Diatribe. If I knew I was coming
along to the \u201cGet Me High\u201d and he wanted them, they would have
been edited and clean.

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