Snapshots from Green Victoria (tedwords) wrote,
Snapshots from Green Victoria

On the road again, again.

Last week was New York City, this week is the town of Basking Ridge, New Jersey. Though hardly as well known, our lodging is much nicer, as we’re staying in the Olde Mill Inn, which allegedly is built next to a building that was used to store grain for George Washington’s troops. The building is lovely and the layout of the inn is fascinating, with all sorts of twists and turns and tiny alcoves, and even a coat of armor standing guard on the second floor.

Me, I’m just taking in the scenery and enjoying the view. There has been a lot of talk today, and the group is small, which leaves plenty of opportunities to speak up. Which I have been doing, when needed, but as a general rule, I’m taking a tip from the other copywriter in the room—smile politely and say as little as possible. Listen instead—there’ll be time to have your voice heard through the written word later on.

It was gratifying to see this sage advice played out during the meeting, as much of the last half hour was devoted to a press packet I developed, complete with backgrounders, bios, timelines, and three sample press releases. The writing was all mine, and what pleased me is that, before the discussion, I was treated like a poor cousin. My opinion, when expressed, was heard, but the opinions of those with titles clearly held sway. Which is fine by me: after seeing my work product, I think I was regarded in a different light. Walk softly and carry a big thesaurus.

My favorite moment today occurred during dinner. I started out the dinner sitting next to my boss Joe, but quickly realized that the time spent by Joe’s side would be filled playing second fiddle, as Joe filled the air with important business talk aimed at impressing the very important CEO of our client company. Yawn. I scanned the room and located a slightly heavy strawberry blond at the other side of the room sitting next to my fellow copywriter. There was an empty chair, and I took my drink (seltzer water with a twist of cranberry juice…I feel no need to drink in excess these days) and walked over.

The strawberry blond was a fountain of stories, and was more than happy to share them with me. Turns out she was a bit of a Bangor sister during the early seventies, and launched into a story about meeting Tom Jones at an after-concert party when she was blonder and one hundred pounds lighter. She attended the party with a friend who she claims had the unfortunate name of “Suzie Luscious,” who was exactly that, with breasts the size of a ten-month-old infant.

Suzie asked her if she was going to go up and introduce herself to the Welsh hottie, and she refused. “If he wants to, he can come over here and talk to me.” What she didn’t know is that he was standing right behind her, and he turned around and put his arms around both girls, and said, “What’s new, Pussycat?” And instead of going for the luscious, he spent the next two days making love to Suzie.

Suzie has a lot to smile about, if you ask me.

Anyway, now it’s 10:30, and after having spent the night before with Corb, I’m ready to call it a night. The kids, I am pleased to report, had a great first day at camp, and Josie got a break on camp admission, which is cool.

Yes Rob, I did as you requested.
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