School reports written: 120
Number of reports praising exceptional quietness and behaviour of child who turns out to have left a term ago: One.
There are now many ways of upsetting Francis and, as Freud's my witness, I'm working my way through the the lot.
Without telling me, my brain has a clearance sale - 'Blue Cross day! Every coherent thought must go!' and ditches every tune except 'I don't like Mondays,' and 'Nine to five,' both of which course endlessly through my head. When I start humming them, Francis flinches. Increasingly he looks like a mature - and slightly balding - Saint Sebastian watching in sad acceptance of his impending martyrdom as his killers unpack their buy-one, get-one-free bumper packs of extra sharp arrows.
So what's the etiquette if we really run out of money? I've been giving money to the man selling The Big Issue outside the supermarket for years and wonder fleetingly how he'd react if we asked for a refund. Or perhaps Grace, the nine-year old we sponsor in Africa, might do a timeshare with Deborah on the skipping rope we sent her at Christmas.
Whistling, 'Tinker, tailor, soldier, job-seeker,' I let myself back into the house to discover Francis eyeing up his suits. Perhaps he wants to play offices. Well, it's got to be better than opening the wardrobe and sadly stroking the work shirts which are all ironed up with nowhere to go.
But, no. Francis has just had a phone call. Down at the company with the critical mass in its backyard, things have reached breaking point, owing to a surfeit of jargon that's formed an almost impenetrable jungle of verbiage between the management and the outside world.
Francis sits in a long meeting and listens while six men, all sporting matching sets of ear hair and a look of boffin-like anxiety, throw phrases like 'Parallel Structures', 'Computational chemistry and computer-based molecular modelling', and 'Combinatorial libraries of drug-like molecules, macromolecular and chemical databases,' at him.
When they've finished, they look at him expectantly. "So, you see the problems we're facing," says one.
"I'm terribly sorry," says Francis, "I haven't understood a single word you've been saying."
Meanwhile, Megadik is on the move again. Not only has it 'proved its superiority under other preparations for many times!' but it has, apparently, 'been announced by TV'. Now there's a thing. I wonder who they've recruited to announce it. Thinking about it, though, Andrew Marr's been looking awfully pleased with himself recently. And I'm sure I saw an unusual-looking coffee cup in the background of that series he's been presenting.
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
12 comments:
I am increasingly finding it impossible to take people who use jargon seriously. I don't know how Francis sat through that. Probably grim fascination for the ear hair.
The problem these people are facing is that they have lost the capacity to communicate with anyone who doesn't share their vernacular. This is becoming more and more common - a type of linguistic snobbery. It used to be considered bad manners to converse in jargon. What tosh and good for Francis.
I once went to an interview where they asked me a question, and I responded that I hadn't understood and could they explain again. They did so and I got the job. So perhaps there is hope for Francis yet. However the job did not involve Macromolecular Chemistry which would have had me seriously stumped.
"All ironed up with nowhere to go", "buy-one, get-one-free bumper packs of extra arrows" - Omega Mum, your writing is a real treat. It does feel wrong to be enjoying reading about someone else's misfortunes so much, but I can't help it. You just write too well.
BTW, we went through something slightly similar, though not as bad, when my husband-to-be's firm made swathes of people, including him, redundant just a few months before we were to be married. No kids involved in our case, of course, which made it much easier. Then my partner was offered a job here in Edinburgh - hence the move north, which was quite an upheaval in itself.
Stay at home Dad and Debio - You're so right. Jargon shouldn't be taken seriously and it utter arrogance
Gwen: That's so brave. I don't think I would have owned up. So good for you (and Francis, of course)
Mother at Large: In my book, unless death or amputation are involved - and not always then - there's always something inherently amusing about misfortune. So I'm pleased you're enjoying it.
I couldn't even pronounce some of that jargon, let alone understand it. Who needs jargon anyway when you've got brains.
I did try to post a comment earlier but the weather seems to have affected my pc. I was just saying how I struggle to pronounce the jargon let alone understand it. And who needs jargon when we can have brains?
Crystal Jigsaw - you're so right. God, I hope he gets a job soon and is spared more jargon.
Oh dear Francis' head may implode and snap his synapses that will overload his frontal lobe to the point his parietal lobe will overheat his endocrine system and push the occipital lobe into his temporal lobe causing blindness and swelling of the cerebellum at which point he will lose all memory of the meeting and the entire job search.
I have no idea what to do about a gigantic penis overtaking your area.
Lady M: Have you just been interviewing, by any chance? And will ensure you get feedback the second any giant pricks cast their monstrous shadow over us......Sorry, will have to stop. Dusk has come early this evening.
I got a lovely e mail today from our mutual friend, Paul, introducing me to the wonders of Megadik. I feel quite honoured.
Gwen - so pleased for you. I hope you got straight back to him......
Post a Comment