Last Friday afternoon at Benevolent Dictators, Inc., they called an emergency all-departmental meeting. It was announced that the Head of Asset Management had been let go. He’s about five or six levels above me, so it’s clear that a lofty title cannot protect you against a catastrophic economic meltdown. It was also announced that another round of layoffs would take place sometime this week. So we all had that to think about over the weekend. Consequently, I have not slept a full night since then. It has occupied every other thought in my head for almost a week. I hold a grandmaster black belt in obsessing.

Yesterday morning they let many of my colleagues go. Many. The 9th floor at Benevolent Dictators, Inc. has been gutted. Someone would get a phone call, walk to Human Resources, be escorted back to their desk by someone from Human Resources, gather up their belongings and be escorted out of the building. It was one of the most callous spectacles I’ve ever witnessed. Those people in Human Resources have ice water in their veins. This went on all morning. I lost some good friends. I have never seen so much crying in all my life. This is the fourth round of layoffs in the past 18 months and this one was the most heartbreaking. People—some with young children—are being thrown out onto a dead job market just before the holidays.

I, somehow, managed to survive again. Sometimes, it’s good to be a small fish in a big pond. Tonight I am going out with Nurse H for a series of stiff drinks. I will toast my fallen colleagues and my splendid luck.

* * *

Several months ago, I picked up a copy of Cormac McCarthy’s latest book, The Road. I was drawn by the tsunami of glowing reviews, all claiming it was his master work and a landmark of American literature. At that time, there was some unpleasant STUFF rattling around inside my head and all Mr. McCarthy’s book did was exacerbate my problems and drag me down into a funk so deep that I had a hard time climbing out. I stopped reading after about 40 pages—something I rarely do.

Flash to now. I hate unfinished business so I picked it up again and guess what? Same result! Every time I read it, it would ruin my evening. What a dreary, depressing, horrifying glop of pulp. Reviewers claim the story is “uplifting.” What part would that be? The part where children are cannibalized? Even The Goddess Oprah gave it her blessing.

Cormac McCarthy owes me $14.95. I didn’t finish it. I left it on the train for some other poor sucker. Cormac must be a dark, miserable, wretch of a human being. Oh, and by the way, they made a movie out of it.

Here’s a partial list of characters in the movie courtesy of IMDB:

Amputee Man #1 In Cellar
Cannibal #1
Baby Eater
Well-Fed Cannibal
Woman in Cellar
Cannibal #2
Ghostly Boy

Date night! Don’t forget the popcorn and Milk Duds.

Well, if I could do anything I wanted, I’d go here:

Imagine that! And B.B. King’s is on 42nd Street, just a half block from where the big ball drops. What a night! It’ll be complete pandemonium.

You might think that Chuck Berry is to too old to rock, but I saw Jerry Lee Lewis right after he had triple bypass surgery and he was fantastic. Saw Roy Orbison before he died and he was great, too. Those old geezers have been at it for such a long time that giving a high-quality performance is part of their nature. It’s the same way with the Rolling Stones.

A colleague at Benevolent Dictators, Inc. left for greener pastures. It was his last day so a few of us went out for drinks. As a rule, I never go out drinking with people I work with. They’re a nice enough bunch, but I spend far too much time with them already. Also, I’m never at ease drinking with office people. That’s so unfriendly of me, I know.

He was euphoric about leaving. Who wouldn’t be? Leaving a job is liberating. There’s the thrill of the new. There’s hope that the next assignment will be more interesting than the last. But the sequence of events usually plays out the same. When you arrive at your new job, you love everybody and everybody loves you. You aren’t held accountable for your mistakes for several weeks because you’re new and don’t know any better. You can make procedural errors and not be tagged as incompetent. Nobody makes your life a living hell.

Then some time passes. After several weeks, reality sets in. Some familiar sensations start to surface. You learn who can help you and who will drag you down. It’s all pretty predictable stuff.

I heard my first Christmas song this morning while having my morning coffee at the diner. It was a reggae version of Joy to the World. I’m not kidding. New York is such a great Christmas town. It gets all gussied up like a dime store whore. The locals are friendlier and the tourists are just so damn happy to be here. I’ll try to post some pics of the city throughout the holiday. Don’t let it annoy you. Lighten your heart.

If I had known that Citibank and other major lending institutions were going to offer to restructure mortgages for people who were on the threshold of default, I would have bought a bigger house than I could afford that’s a lot closer to the city so I wouldn’t have this insufferable commute. As it is, I stayed within my budget and had to settle for a smaller home that’s a lot further out than I would have liked. Stupid me. I am also dumb enough to pay off my credit card every month, so I’ll probably miss out on the [probable] debt relief that will be offered to consumers who are drowning in credit card debt. There’s nothing worse than a lost opportunity. Don’t you agree?

Is that paragraph dripping with enough sarcasm for you? I was channel surfing the other night and stopped to watch the Suzy Orman financial advice show for a few minutes. The caller was a woman who had $16K to her name, but wanted to spend $30K on a wedding. Now, ain’t that America? What a bunch of big spoiled babies we are.

WE WANT.