Let's put a pineapple over here and another pineapple over there because we always buy two pineapples each trip, at least, along with all melons available, in fact we already ate five.
All that fruit cut open and ready to go, bananas all yellow, delivered fresh every day. Enough carbs to fuel Boston Marathon, all at once, opened for this family of four. Pancakes piled up, soft eggs in cups and one in the air.
As food stylist type, I'm offended.
I have a dumb photo too like this published I'm ashamed to have participated in. I allowed a dumb person to talk me into it when I knew better, I knew it would not work. She had what she thought was a great idea but there is no way you can create spontaneity and surprise convincingly, like oh wow, look at brother flip the pancake so acely. The kids here are actually pretty good, given the task is impossible.
I should dig out the printed photo and scan it. Maybe I will later. Even though I'm ashamed of it. I was asked to interpret for Jeff for two whole days and that right there is inhuman. That really does need to go in shifts. For a seminar that he was assigned. And that was the stupidest thing on Earth because it was for communication skill improvement. Something happened and that was Jeff's punishment, and nobody in Jeff's department communicates as well as Jeff does, honestly, I know them all, of the whole lot Jeff is the best communicator of all, whatever happened it was not his fault, although deaf, nobody matches Jeff's knack for getting across any idea straightforwardly. But the thing is, Jeff withdrew. He had no use for idly talking to people. A shame too, because everyone wants to talk to Jeff. He's adorable and people want him. He'd rather be alone with his horses.
Human Resources asked me to interview with them to write up a story about that unusual task of interpreting for Jeff. They thought it would be a good item for their office newsletter. I told them I already wrote the story and typed it, a letter to Toni describing the experience down to the raw details, as I do. I gave them a copy instead.
She said my letter to Toni had the whole office in tears. Alternately cracking up laughing. Back and forth crying and laughing. They were thrilled with it. FRB newsletters are not all that interesting.
The piece that they published edited out the best parts where I don't hold back on impressions and descriptions of all that occurred. Unprintable in anything so anodyne as newsletter. My letter to Toni was watered down, shortened drastically, whole sections omitted, swears removed, shined up and polished to nothing at all. Like a big chunk of diamond nicked down to stone for a finger.
Even so, there were notes left on my desk of people who read piece in the newsletter and were moved to tears just from that. I think I saved their notes. I had no idea bankers are so emotional.
The HR lady wanted a photo for the article but Jeff works at night. Her idea was take separate photos of us at at different times in the same spot, facing each other, and put them together as if we are speaking to each other. That is that part that was dumb. Dumber even than these photos of Jim Carrey's family.
