Steel Kaleidoscopes

The Continuing Saga of Dave

Peanut butter and jelly sandwiches kept Dave Tomlinson mildly interested in a turntable's propensity to spin.

Dave, despite reservations, decided to dress up for his Tuesday meeting with black shoes and argyle black socks.

Then he chose black leather pants, a black T-shirt and a black leather vest.

If he was going to feel like Iggy Pop, he may as well dress like him.

The Continuing Saga of Dave

Gillian had gone to the Fleetwood Mac show and didn't tell Dave Tomlinson.

Dave was annoyed because he had his own Fleetwood Mac experiences he wanted to share. Dave remembered seeing the band in '79 on the "Rumours" tour with their classic lineup, which included Stevie Nicks and Christine McVie.

When Gillian loaded her photos onto Flickr, Dave sulkingly noticed the gleam in Mick Fleetwood's eyes as he banged home the introduction to "Tusk."

Didn't matter, mused Dave.

Dave had tickets to Spyro Gyra next week, and made a promise to himself that he would rather read the entire Bobbsey Twins catalog than share his plans with Gillian.

The Continuing Saga of Dave

Dave Tomlinson pondered the various options of how to polish veneer furniture.

In the pre-Barney Rubble era, saxophones were mere pipe dreams of the conglomerate stone-tapping bearded swordsmen.

Music would have a future, mused Dave, if only bartenders would consider their careers equally important to Betty Rubble hairdressing standards.

In the end it was Dave who decided vanilla-based polish could be overkill to the cherry wood.

Dave stepped outside for a smoke, considered counting sheep a poor solution for sleeplessness, and purchased a jump rope at KB Toys.

The Continuing Saga of Dave

Dave Tomlinson took a deep breath of salty ocean air, the glistening flounder lying flat beneath his hands on the silky sea grass.

It would be a good dinner after a tiring yet mundane day, most of which was spent standing in line at the Department of Motor Vehicles.

If it hadn't been for the leathernecks yelling obscenities from the metallic orange Camaro on his drive to the beach, it would have been a non-descript day, the kind you file away but are powerless to recall.

Dave thought little necks would be the perfect complement to the flounder, but was nervous about an extended flossing session before bedtime.

Dave sighed deeply, then poured a glass of Conundrum before changing the batteries in the TV remote.

The Continuing Saga of Dave

Rottweilers could incite fear into the tiniest of robots.

Dave Tomlinson related to the mammal-computer mismatch, and found comfort in the fact that when zeppelins scraped the sky, it meant that transportation options weren't limited to traditional means.

Historical documents had revealed lucid, not lurid, facts related to the Spanish Inquisition, and Dave would be damned if he felt pressured to rewrite the epic.

If Army Majors were considered zealots, nuns were indeed practitioners of plebeianism.

It was not the moral ground upon Dave was used to standing.

In the end he agreed screams were annoying, but somehow essential.

The Continuing Saga of Dave

The paper towel dispenser had been empty for two days, yet Dave Tomlinson continued to postpone the 20-minute drive to Target.

If it were not for the flurry of activity surrounding his advanced trombone lessons and appointment to student council president, Dave would have found time for more menial tasks.

It was during this surge of accountability that the breeze on his neck felt a little cooler, a little stiffer. The wind at his back was more than a cliche to Dave, who each day opened his eyes wishing he looked like Alex Trebek.

The Continuing Saga of Dave

Dave Tomlinson knew the rubber band certification seminar was a bad idea.

In the past, competencies considered for career advancement revolved more around organic solutions.

Most of his childhood friends exhibited textile tendencies, the promise of short-term cash overshadowing the long-term benefits of decade relevance.

The Continuing Saga of Dave

E-mail was proving to be the communications tool of choice for Dave Tomlinson, and he toyed with various subject lines to test response rates among junior and senior executives.

In the scheme of the Nebbiolo Bin 77 acquisition, he proposed varying degrees of storage capabilities. It was in the summer of '75 when he determined that Toni Tennille was a stronger vocalist than Tony Orlando, but this revelation was somehow locked away in his long-term memory bank.

With dinner just 11 minutes away, Dave contemplated the benefits of carbo-infused sides dishes like bow tie pasta and cheddar baked potatoes.

In the end, Dave reasoned, the thin man wins more Electronic Battleship tournaments.

The Continuing Saga of Dave

The South African business venture, and its complicated integration challenges, weighed heavily on Dave Tomlinson's mind.

In the spirit of bipartisan advocacy, he knew the efforts were worthwhile. He was confident in 22 percent operating margins in three years.

It was the meaningless distractions that could slow down progress, so he needed to find proven filtering techniques to diffuse the noise.

The Continuing Saga of Dave

In the spirit of consequential influence, Dave Tomlinson took a proactive approach and snapped his Bazooka bubble gum with authority.

The Achievers Trip was a special acknowledgment for the transcendental sales force, a group of highly motivated openers and closers, engaged in the spirit of proven, repeatable sales methodology.

Alec Baldwin be damned, thought Dave. If coffee was for closers, he was Brazil. If not for the political posturing among regional sales managers, he should be in Aruba, hoisting himself upward into the breezy, menthol-spirited trade winds.

A few Molsons later, he realized it was OK.

He sniffed the Dunbar eraser to illicit memories of semi-structured second grade, relieved that Captain Cordani was a hero only to those who excelled at Dodgeball.