Sir Talk-a-Lot Update:
Had to go to the hot LZ, Sir Talk-a-Lot’s office, to ask him a question about a project. I knew the risks of entering into harm’s way. But I had to go. I needed his help.
I entered…sat down. I kept the convo on-task. So did he…at first. We were talking about risk analysis…analyzing the risk of allowing people to access a database from their home computer. Strictly IT, project management stuff.
I got what I needed…we were wrapping up. “…So we need to make sure we have all the parties in the meeting to thoroughly analyze the risk.” he concluded. And without taking a breath… “…and that’s what pissed me off about the Persian Gulf War!”
WAIT A MINUTE! WHAT??? How did he…! I literally felt like Morpheus somehow sucked me into the Matrix training database.
“Donald Rumsfeld didn’t have the right people at the table to discuss the risks of going to war with Iraq. He shoulda…”…that’s when I went to my happy-place. I marveled at how he could connect those two abstract topics…and was somewhat impressed. Until I realized that I was still in his office.
I was jarred back to reality when he said, “…And the same thing happened when we went over to Vietnam…” That’s when I knew it was time to bounce.
So I stood up. He stood up…and still talking. I mosey over to the door…“OK…so I’ll set that meeting.” I conclude. He’s still talking. I walk out the door. He follows…and still talking. Then we do that slow walk-and-talk two-step all the way back to my desk…with him still talking.
And when we get back to my desk…get this…that’s when the conversation started!
But now we’re on to his kids. How’d he get there? Heck if I know. Then he moves to his neighbor. I’m checking emails. He’s still talking. Then on to his neighbor’s kids. I’m making notes from our meeting. And he’s still…exactly!
Finally he abruptly ends and walks away. I thought he was coming back. So I didn’t move. But he never returned.
I knew the risks of entering into harm’s way…and paid the price for it. Hopefully the risk of letting people access the database from their home computer will turn out better than my trip to Sir Talk-A-Lot’s office.