RooK: Created page with "category:2024 Rant I walked into a meeting room last week, and was met with an uproar from the array of faces on the screen as well as in the room. "I knew it was Clayton! I could tell from his walk." Obviously, the frosted glass in the front of the room by the door showed a silhouette of my approach, but not enough to make out my face. With my standard smug dad-grin, I sat down without saying anything. And the meeting began..."

2024-04-16T04:28:12Z

Created page with "category:2024 Rant <font face="consolas, courier new"> I walked into a meeting room last week, and was met with an uproar from the array of faces on the screen as well as in the room. "I knew it was Clayton! I could tell from his walk." Obviously, the frosted glass in the front of the room by the door showed a silhouette of my approach, but not enough to make out my face. With my standard smug dad-grin, I sat down without saying anything. And the meeting began..."

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I walked into a meeting room last week, and was met with an uproar from the array of faces on the screen as well as in the room. "I knew it was Clayton! I could tell from his walk."

Obviously, the frosted glass in the front of the room by the door showed a silhouette of my approach, but not enough to make out my face. With my standard smug dad-grin, I sat down without saying anything. And the meeting began, so I forgot about the comment in the flow of engineering development work.

Afterwards, though, it came back to me, and my mind turned over what exactly that might have meant. I think I remember in the moment feeling bemused, because I do tend to carry myself with a conscious effort about my bearing. But, really, that's more about posture, as I'm in a lifelong war against gravity conspiring against my also being slightly taller than everything is ideally suited for - so it takes effort not to slouch.

But was there... is there something more to be read in my walk?

Maybe a haughty imperviousness for being an "old timer" and secure in my reputation's stature in the engineering building?

Maybe a lanky impatient stride that I ride officiously from one arbitrary place to another in my recent re-confinement for "return to office"?

Or maybe they see a shadow of the wary but determined kid I used to be, who learned to navigate on foot while being stalked by malicious peers eager for a fight. And being always ready for that fight. And knowing that I'll never win that fight, but damned if I wasn't going to make them regret it as much as possible.
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2024.04.15 A Specific Walk - Revision history