The List

I am not a man to hold a grudge. When I was younger I could clasp anger close to my chest and never let it go. I would stand on my little podium of pride, wagging my finger in the face of life saying, 'forgive, but never forget.' Walking through fire cured me of this affliction. Life, like a slow-roasting crock pot, cooked away my ability and desire to hold enmity. When people fight, invariably both combatants will emerge from the battle bruised, battered and bleeding. Sometimes we are cut so deep that the confrontation leaves scars that far outstrip the cause or severity of the fight. Most of the time I think people would rather 'forgive and forget;' they would prefer to keep the bridges into their lives open. A grudge keeps the bridge open, but in the same way bridges are open in a military state. Roads and causeways replete with guard towers, riflemen and snarling vicious war dogs. I know people joke about having a 'List.' If someone cuts you off in traffic an appropriate response would be, 'Son of a....that's it, that guy is going on The List!' It's fun, it's silly, but I really do not believe that people keep a little red book of grudges right next to their little black book of phone numbers.

I would like you to take a little stroll back in time with me. A little over a week ago, on a bright Monday morning, Brandon is giving a presentation. The sun is shining, the conference room is packed, and I am assaulting the senses with a true multimedia display. Drawing upon the usual arsenal of powerpoint, visual aids, a short video and my bread 'n' butter, the white board. I am moving to and fro, hither and thither, and the presentation is going incredibly well. I am an animated public speaker so I tend to move quite a bit as I talk. I use my hands, I engage the crowd, and I tend to saunter from one side of the room to the other.

Everything is going swimmingly, but there is some noise coming from the nearby labs, so I turn and close the door. I don't watch the door close, but I hear the latch click and continue on with the presentation. It is important to understand that this door opens towards the white board. When fully open it actually covers a few feet of the white board, and I am drawing on the entirety of my corporate tapestry this day. The presentation is drawing to close, I am moving from one end of the white board to the other...backing up while speaking, gesturing to what has been written over the past hour, talking, sharing, pointing out key items...still backing up, then I turn to make one final point and BAM! By some strange twist of fate the door has managed to open itself. It's almost like a saw blade, and it lines me up with the precision of a carpenter. From nose to chin to sternum to groin I walk into this door and the sound of the impact rings loud and clear throughout the room. There is a pause...a drawing of breath, then all gathered burst into hysterics. I laugh too, because at that point there is little else that one can do. I regain my composure, make a few closing comments and the remainder of the day passes without incident.

Walk with me a short distance into the future. We are now at yesterday afternoon in the same room, with the same white board, just a different presentation. A few of the people in attendance make a few jokes at my expense before I begin because they witnessed my last unintentional foray into physical slapstick humor. I laugh, they laugh, and the presentation begins. I make a point to actually close the door completely, feel the latch catch, and I place a small garbage can in front of the closed door, partly for the amusement of the audience, and partly to make sure I don't have a repeat performance.

I start to speak, and write and present as I have a hundred times before. Halfway into the presentation time slows. I am sure if I was watching the clock on the wall I would have watched the ever-marching second hand gradually slow and eventually grind to a halt. Backing from one end of the white board to another, a member in the audience asks a question about something I had written on section of the board which would have been covered by the door (IF it were open that is). I am happy to answer the question and turn quickly towards where the door WOULD have been if it were open. I plan to point out the data the question is referring to just to make sure everyone is on the same page. I shift my weight, I pivot, and to my horror The Door is waiting for me...again.

I have been in fights in the past. I have been punched, kicked and elbowed. But I have never been hit as hard as this door hit me. From the apex of my legs to the crest of my brow I slam, with force, into this tormentor. Flesh and bone and blood collide with wood and steel and gloss. Losing my composure for a moment I swear loudly, stagger a bit, and then turn to see tears streaming from the eyes of my audience. One man, who I shall simply refer to as Upper Management tries to speak, 'Brandon....anytime I think I am having....a bad...day...I will just....think....' He trails off here, unable to speak for lack of oxygen. He is simply laughing too hard.

There are wicked and macabre forces at work here. I know that this door; this vile wretched baleful door was not guided by the hands of God. If god wanted to teach me humility he would have been far less subtle; a flood, a lightning strike, or at the bare minimum, a little fire and brimstone. No, this was the work of some cruel antagonist. Did someone feed Gizmo after midnight? Does this door, this dark malevolent slab of wood, sit atop a long forgotten burial mound? I don’t care what power drives it, or what force created it. This door has drawn first blood…twice! I don’t hold grudges, but then again I never really had a reason...until now. I have met my nemesis. Building F, room 5404, large wooden door…welcome to The List my now and future foe. Tremble in fear because you have neither the will, nor the opposable thumbs to win this war.

On a side note, I did launch a large number of April Fool’s pranks this past year. Part of me wonders if this is some form of cosmic retribution…no, this is between me and The Door…watch for the final showdown on pay-per-view…