Monday 30 September 2013

Broom (9)


BROOM (9)


I was emptying the bins and recycling things, when the girl from Havana observed:

'I think it's so cute, this mobile institute. Can I come along, too?' she purred. (I noticed my teeth felt all furred.) 'Because, you'll need a spare driver, a spare pair of hands and I'm never more happy than when traversing new lands. I'm, for certain, a victim of wanderlust. Come, let's do it together: Monte Carlo or bust.'

She punched me rather heartily on my left upper arm. Christ, these ethnologists have no idea of the harm that they cause.

I think it's Havana (but, it could be Savannah); whatever, our girl is a veritable trooper. I looked at her briefly, and said:

'I believe that you're very well read.'

She said: 'I'm a professional researcher (you're envious, I betcha). I do what I want when I will. There ain't nothing surpasses free-will. But, you gotta be tough, abrasive and gruff, and, you're better off on the pill.

'Yes, children will just cramp you style,' she said with a feline-fanged smile.

Friday 27 September 2013

Broom (8)


BROOM (8)


If we fail to attract the numbers required, we'll all be redundant: released, or, retired. 

The one with the hoola-hoop rocked on her hips, she crumpled her forehead and chewed on her lips. 'I could do with not yet being fired (even though I'm despondent and tired.)

'You see, though I've always been partial to German rye-bread, I subscribe to the Bible when all's done and said. I believe in a doctrine, when all's said and done; I can't live by yeast-products alone.'

I rubbed my hands with antiseptic gel and raised an eyebrow as if to say, well?

She replied, 'I need butter and jam, or some well-cured ham. I need goats' cheese and Marmite and all. I need fish from a tin, some olives in brine. And, of course, Waitrose's own falafel. 

'I live by myself - all alone. You must see that I need an income.' 

'Then, tell me, how should we recruit?'

She thought for a while: 'a mobile institute?'

'Just what do you mean by that? '

She said, 'being sedentary turns you to fat. I suggest that we get up and go: a pedagogical sort of road show. 

'We'll sow the seeds of passion for photography; revive the cult of heliography. What we need is a bus or a van. (We can hire a driver: a man.) We'll travel the ends of the earth (a car seat will do for a berth.) Yes, I see it quite clear. (You're excited, my dear.) We must get on the road very soon, with a kitted-up mobile darkroom; like Fenton devised (oh, they'll be so surprised). Indeed, with our pop-up facilities, we'll rival all the universities.

'Believe me, we'll always recruit from our peripatetic (empathetic) institute.'

Friday 20 September 2013

Broom (7)


BROOM (7)


I was cleaning my keyboard with a feminine wipe when the one with the hoola-hoop started to snipe (again).

She said:

'Well, we took ourselves off on an Easy Jet flight. We walked through the day; slept rough every night. (A porch on the first day, a woodshed the second: by the third night a wooden play-house kind of beckoned. So, we swept it clean with a broom and, despite being cramped, we had just enough room to sleep like proverbial logs. We were, after all, tired as dogs.)

'We traversed eighty miles in just over three days. Up mountains, down valleys: I remain quite amazed that we never felt mardy or hungry or sad. Yet, one day in the work-place and I'm feeling quite bad.

'My stomach is cramping, my face is all flushed. (By the way, there are crumbs where you've polished and brushed.) My face is all flushed and my sinuses ache. My sense of well-being is always at stake in this place.

'Tell me, why should this be?

'Is this normal, or, particular to me?'

Tuesday 17 September 2013

Broom (6)


BROOM (6)


The other, she said, as she hoola-hooped:

'The problem, dear Broom, is that we've all been duped. I can't help but thinking our raison-d'etre's sinking; we were promised a lie - that's the truth. Our professional life is a spoof.'

I was cleaning the windows with Windolene. (The desktops, already, gave off a good sheen - thanks to beeswax and elbow-grease. Such hard work: I took off my fleece.)

She continued:

'You see, I had an epiphany. We were bagging some routes, my boyfriend and me. The sun was shining, the grit was dry. As we belayed some classics I thought I might cry. I was happy enough to die.'

She stared out the window and sighed.

'And, as for the future, I don't give a toss. (I've experienced too much and suffered such loss.) I have nothing I wish for, and no expectation. But, when I'm out with my partner my only sensation is something akin to a sense of elation.

'I'm afraid I need nothing more. As a consequence, work seems like a bore.'

Sunday 15 September 2013

Broom (5)


BROOM (5)


As I de-scaled the kettle and washed up the cups, I spotted our girl in Havana (on reflection, perhaps, it's Savannah?)

Whatever.

I spied her curled up in the corner, as I rinsed out those filthy mugs.

You see, our girl from Exotica doesn't like teaching. So, she's convinced our superiors her skill is researching. You'll rarely see her around. For the most part, she's outward bound. But, her ethics are sketchy, her strategy crude. (Rationale, let me say, is verging on crude.)

She uses old cameras to spectacular ends (to aesthetize difference with an old, plastic lens). Now, doc-phot has recently taken a bashing (and, it has to be said, I endorse all that thrashing).

But, I have to admit that I found it astounding when she said she shot subjects in their natural surroundings.  It's something to do with an anthropological grounding.

Friday 13 September 2013

Broom (4)


BROOM (4)


'Dr Broom,' said the other, 'let me give some advice. The one thing we ask is, you're reasonable: nice. And by reasonable (nice) what we all have in mind is: you're compliant subservient yielding. Just, kind.'

I selected the speed on my Miele vacuum, plugged in the machine, began hoovering the room.

'Take me,' she continued above all the noise. (And, I have to admit that the woman had poise as the hoola-hoop span round her waist and her hips. So I switched off the Miele and considered her tips.)

'Take me, Dr Broom, I have but one desire; to not come to work, but stay home by the fire. After all, I have lectures I need to prepare and this open-plan office is driving me spare. Now, please, Dr Broom, pray don't get me wrong but the journey to work is both tiring and long and I've yet to appreciate what I can gain from colleagues who gossip and moan and complain. . . '

I noticed the hoola-hoop seemed to be slowing but, a quick change of gear, and she soon had it going - again.

'Yes. I've yet to appreciate what I can gain when the talk in the office is always the same.'

About to switch the Miele back on when - blurry-eyed sad - she gave out a groan.

'Dr Broom,' she beseeched, 'you must realise that we've lost all we worked for; we coveted and prized. We worked hard to avoid a professional life of ambition, achievement, convention and strife. Toiled long to escape the commercial rat-race. And, now, I discover I'm stuck in a place that requires I subscribe and conform. (All I want is escape from the norm.)

'So, to cut to the chase, I'm not cut out for working a full working week. I would rather be slacking.'

Tuesday 10 September 2013

Broom (3)


BROOM (3)



Well, I've always found something particularly difficult about relationships and their concomitant commitment.

But it seems that, now, I am head of department I'm sorely struggling with the email attachment. 

As previously mentioned, timetabling's disabling. 

When, at last, I disabled the problem, I emailed my staff the new programme. 

But, I forgot to attach the excel sheet. (Wasn't long before they informed me of that.)

But what should a bachelor do, when commitment is what he eschews? Attachments are hard (they put you off guard). 

Perhaps I'll try texting in lieu.

Saturday 7 September 2013

Broom (2)


BROOM (2)


'Dr Broom', she said, 'may I give you a tip? It's meetings and things that we all like to skip. We've all read our Sennett. We endorse all his views on the pitfalls of teamwork; managerial ruse to ensure that the buck stops with us.'

I paused with my dustpan and brush.

'Indeed. Team meetings perpetuate the worst fallacy; that we're anything but a dysfunctional family. It can't be denied we're a kind of community but it doesn't include the idea of solidarity. It merely provides managerial immunity from accountability and blame'.

Contradiction, I knew, would sound lame so I carried on brushing as I felt my face flushing. (As for her, she was rushing for the train.)

Friday 6 September 2013

Broom (1)


BROOM (1)


Now, I have to admit I find classroom timetabling a bit of a bore and just more than disabling.

But, perhaps, I am jumping the gun.

I must tell you, first, what has gone on. I've become the new head (when all's done and said) of a Fine Art Photography programme.

I am, that's to say, the new broom.

Yes.

I'm the newly-appointed head of department, and it seems that my staff is deficient regarding its want to appease and to please; to commit and collaborate with ease. Sure, I don't doubt its skilled expertise. But what's lacking is joie-de-vivre.

And, it scoffs at enthusiasm.