What I Thought My Work Week Would Look Like When I was 6

Monday

I overslept. No time for breakfast. I'll just grab a hot dog at the ballpark. Actually, I'll have a hot dog here, too. One hot dog here, one at the ballpark. I'm a superstar pitcher for the Detroit Tigers.

Driving my Volvo to the stadium is really fun and safe, and I'm really good at it. Oh, my best pitch? It's a curveball. I'm allowed to throw a curveball at this point in my life because I'm a man and my elbow is fully developed. I can throw as many curveballs as I want.

Actually, I have a few minutes to spare. I'm going to make a quick detour to my historian office, where I am a historian. There's an amphora fresh in from Greece. An amphora is a vase. It's sitting on my desk and I have to analyze it. Where did it come from? What is its story? This is the hardest part of my historian job. I ponder the problem for a little bit while playing Atari and it suddenly hits me: it's from a completely awesome shipwreck. Then it's time for the most fun part of the job, as a bunch of journalists come in to photograph me standing next to the amphora and holding the amphora over my head.

Then I speed to the stadium and one-hit the Blue Jays.

Tuesday

Tuesday. Hump day, and also the one day of my workweek when I really have to focus all of my energy on being the president of the United States of America. I start the day early with a quick visit to the Lincoln Memorial. Next, I'm off to hold an underprivileged student on my lap and read to his class from Shel Silverstein's The Giving Tree, the greatest and saddest of books. By the time I finish, there isn't a dry eye in the room. The only exception is a journalist who is busy writing a positive editorial.

At 3 p.m. I make a brief relief appearance in a day game against the Seattle Mariners. I just pitched the day before and the coach says I don't have to play if I don't want to, but I want to. I strike out the side to secure the victory. There isn't a dry eye in the crowd. As I walk off the field, I slowly spin around, amazed: Are they all standing and clapping for me? It turns out they are.

Back in Washington, I pass some popular legislation making it illegal for rich people to kill poor people. (Why didn't you think of this, Founding Fathers?) Then, in a courageous political move, I decide to end poverty altogether. "This will be good for America," I announce in a televised address to the nation. "It's strange that this never occurred to Franklin Delano Roosevelt or John F. Kennedy. They were pretty great presidents, but keep in mind that this never occurred even to THEM."

Wednesday

I take Wednesdays off.

Thursday

First, I publish a scholarly article in Science magazine on the Greek amphora. My amphora and I make the cover. A filmmaker stops by the historian office. He wants me to speak on the subject of the Roman gladiators and also on the Black Death. I'm running a little late, but I still manage to make history come alive for a few minutes. As he's leaving, the filmmaker adds, "Congratulations on making the cover of Sports Illustrated, Mr. President." I shrug modestly: "It's not the first time."

Then I'm off. To where? Not to the stadium, nor to the White House, nor to a strange detour back to the historian office. No, I'm off to my son's elementary school, where I pick him up early. Mrs. Reynolds, who is still teaching first grade but has become even fatter and uglier, won't let him leave at first, but I send in my Secret Service guys and some of the Army. My son is overjoyed to see me. "Thanks for making me a top priority, even though I know you have a lot of important work," he says, maturely. "I know Grandpa never did that for you." I nod. "You're right, he didn't. He should have, but he didn't."

Then we go ride roller coasters at Cedar Point, and we never have to wait in any lines, because it's 2 p.m. on a Thursday, and also because I'm the president.

Friday

I also take Fridays off.

Chanandelor Bong

There has been a request for me to clarify what it is that I do with my time from 8am to 5 pm each day. Since I don’t often receive requests, as I am not a top 40 radio station, several questions came to mind. Do I just tell them? Am I so easy that I give in when asked? Isn’t a little mystery fun? How does someone not know what a chamber does?

Hmmm…sure. Yes. Sometimes. They don’t own a business. What can I say, I like to be the center of attention.

So here I am sitting at my desk in a yet-to-be-remodeled office wondering how I explain what I do and realize it must be not much since I have time for this. Solis is found quickly though since I’ve wedged you in between meetings.

I am the Executive Vice President of the El Dorado Chamber of Commerce until January 1, 2008 when I become the Executive Director. What’s the difference? Nothing, except for a few letters and the semantics of a community development organization divesting, my job will be the same. It’s a story so long and boring I’m yawning just typing about NOT telling it you. It has none of the action and adventure of the honeymoon story, which I would be glad to regale now. Ok, put your computer monitors down I was just kidding.

I hear Kara saying, “Great, so what do you do?”

As defined in our bylaws: “The EVP will serve as the chief administrative and executive officer.” So I’m the CEO and CAO (which is the CFO, COO, Director of HR, and everything else).

I hear Kara saying, “Great, so what do you do?”

I run the day to day operations of the Chamber. I hire, I fire, I set salaries, I preside over 15 committees, I call on businesses to make them feel loved, I drive membership, I cut ribbons and shovel dirt, I organize new programs (young professionals, monthly Chamber meetings), I help new businesses form business plans, find funding and locations, I’m the dog and pony show at the annual meeting, I represent the business community to the city, state, and federal government, produce and write 3 pages a month for the newsletter (which we might just produce our own little deal, so you could add publisher to my list).

How’s that for a run on sentence?

This covers about 70% of it. Basically, I’m a pretty busy boy these days and I apologize for neglecting my cyber fans. Without you I might be able to fit my head through a door jam without turning it, and what fun would that be? Oh, and our Mac crapped out so when we get that back I’ll put the G-man’s 9 month pics up…even though he’s now 10 months.

And finally, raise your hand if you know what the title means.

Quick Hit

I got the job in El Dorado!! We don't have internet in the office until Wed...which means Fri. When we do I'll update more and load Gabe's 9 month pictures.

Till then.