Symbols of Distinction

A couple of years ago, someone at work decided it would be a good idea to form a Fun Committee. This group, comprised of representatives from various departments in our building, organizes events such as sleigh rides, baseball games, picnics, bowling, a regular blood drive and monthly contests to win a parking spot in the underground garage.

With the exception of the blood drive, I do not participate in Fun Committee events.

Why? Well, maybe I’m just cantankerous. Maybe I hate fun. Or maybe I’m very selective about my leisure time and with whom I spend it. I have my reasons.

Last night, the Fun Committee sponsored an evening at a local bowling alley. I’m told there was karaoke in addition to the bowling. Karaoke inevitably leads to people making spectacles of themselves, especially when (as is usually the case) there is alcohol involved. I’ve heard that the inevitable spectacle occurred, but two of my male co-workers singing “Islands in the Stream” isn’t really what this story is about.

The bowler with the lowest score was given a certificate (as, I’m sure, was the bowler with the highest score). Specifically, the bowler with the lowest score was given the Kris Johnson Award. That’s right, I am so notorious that even when I am not present, my influence is felt.

The recipient of the Kris Johnson Award came to me this morning to have her certificate signed and for the obligatory handshake pictures. She was appropriately awe-struck and deferential, and I was only too happy to sign the certificate. I was somewhat disappointed that the designer of said certificate hadn’t had the foresight to include the appropriate signature line.

3 thoughts on “Symbols of Distinction”

  1. Maybe it’s in your blood. I don’t recall the Parents being involved, perhaps due to Dad’s profession, many work related ‘fun’ gatherings.

    Before the broodlings, My Favorite Canadian and I participated in one ‘fun’ event through my job and one through hers.

    Congratulations on having an award given in your honor. Notoriety that has lead to star-struck (fear-struck?) followers to boot. Perhaps you have a bit of your mother in you, eh?

  2. Yep, yer cantankerous. Not that that’s BAD, or anything… Or, as one parental unit is fond of saying, “you’re CROTCHETY”. At my place of employ, a ‘fun’ committee would be something relegated to those hype personnel on the other side of the tracks (you know – HR, Marketing, etc.).

    However, there are those who MUST organize and participate in such committees ; if not, they lose all semblance of worthiness and have no sense of ‘belonging’; poor souls – show a little compassion.

    Or not.

    Congrats on the award that bears your name; those who mock do so out of envy…

  3. Separate from the Fun Committee is a group responsible for organizing a large event that typically takes place in November or January. To call it a Christmas party would be strictly taboo, so it has been known as the Winter Event or Winter Dinner/Dance for some time now.

    Laura and I have gone to a few of these, but have invariably been disappointed in some way or another. The first year, the venue was too small for the number of attendees, a fact that was recognized before the actual event. Rather than change venues, a tent was erected. Unfortunately, it was a rather leaky tent.

    Our enjoyment of the Winter Event has also been hampered (in various years) by desserts that tasted as though their prime ingredient was retrieved from a vacuum cleaner bag, music so loud as to make any attempt at conversation futile unless one actually left the dining/dancing hall, and a horribly disorganized buffet-style dinner that left some people without food the entire evening. To think I actually rented a tuxedo for that last one.

    To make matters worse, an electronic “feedback” form is distributed to all attendees following the event. Unfortunately, there has historically been no place on this form to provide actual feedback. Instead, the questions generally revolve around where the event should be held the following year and what type of theme should be adopted.

    Anyway, I’m ranting now (crotchety people do that). Perhaps the next award to bear my name will be the Kris Johnson Sour Grapes Certificate, and will be presented to the individual who appears to be enjoying themselves the least.

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