Chapter 21 - VP: In the Loop

Before we continue with the story, allow me to extend an official shout out to our corporate Vice President. Welcome to the Pregzilla Chronicles, brother! Yep, VP is now a member of the Zilla fold. You might correctly recall that I wasn’t going to share the Chronicles with ANYONE on the inside of the office, for reasons of discretion and anonymity. Hey, things change. One day, VP came into our building with a long face and a draggin’ tail. (Which is a rather unflattering, canine description of someone who is actually a very nice man, but is nevertheless the most accurate way to describe his state of mental anguish.)

VP asked me to come into his office, where, out of total frustration with Boss’ lack of appropriate response to current circumstances and inattentiveness to sound business practices, he began asking me a few questions about Boss, Zilla and our organization in general.

Our poor VP had begun to think he was nuts. Did NOBODY else see the absurd and inept things he was seeing? Did everyone else think the familial and organizational goings on he had observed over the last six months or so was NORMAL???

He asked me to fill in some blank spots in what he already knew about the past few years of our company itself, and I shared with him some strange and wonderful corporate details. Details about which he quite frankly needed to be aware; I was no less than shocked to hear that Boss hadn’t revealed these facts to him, right off the bat, before Veep was even hired! I mean, how can the poor guy be expected to formulate a BUSINESS PLAN to take us through the next few years when he has been kept in the dark (or glossed over) about what has happened in the past? VP felt as though he had gained at least a few more pieces to the company puzzle.

Then our conversation turned a little into Boss’ personal life, and the zany antics of Zilla. Was she for real? Where did he get her? She’s a bona fide &^%$#! Was the engagement and wedding as outlandish and irrational as the marriage appeared to be? How does Boss stand it? I tried to tactfully elucidate the few things I could, but at some point, with fear and trepidation, I decided VP needed to become a reader of The Pregzilla Chronicles.


The general state of affairs in our organization easily becomes pretty heavy when you don’t see the sheer hilarity, and I thought VP was greatly in need of a little situational lightheartedness. So I made Veep pinky swear to secrecy and pulled up the Chronicles on Blogspot. “That ought to answer a lot of your questions. And by the way, all the readers love you.” So he read. And read. And read some more. And now VP knows that he’s not alone, or insane, or in some madcap dream from which he can’t awaken. And he’s laughing again…..sometimes, about the asinine stuff that goes on in Zillaland.

In addition, out of the often senseless and irrational way we deal with issues in our establishment, a new term has been coined: “Bozo Nickels.” (Get it? Coined? Nickels? Oh, never mind.)

Anyway, imagine yourself, at a store’s checkout, pulling a handful of change from your pocket or purse to settle up your purchases. As you glance over the coins, you notice that the tails-side of each 5¢ piece has the familiar image of Monticello, but when flipped over, “heads” is no longer the comfortingly customary bust of Thomas Jefferson. Instead, gaping at you from the front of the coin is a ridiculous grinning image of Bozo the Clown. You wonder if you’re entranced in a crazy dream, but no, you’re wide awake. Practically panicking, you check the other 5¢ pieces. ALL the nickels are Bozofied. The cashier is drumming the conveyor, waiting for payment. You hesitate. Finally,psychologically defeated, you hand over the change, purposely heads-up, to wait for the cashier’s comment. The cashier has a clear view of the Bozos, but says nothing, and you go incredulously on your way.

Later, you ask a friend about the picture on HER nickels. She gives you an alarmed look, fishes a few nickels out of her purse, and again, there is the bust of Bozo.

“Well?” you ask.
“What?”she says.
“Where’s Thomas Jefferson?”
“Huh?”
“That’s Bozo the Clown. On the nickel.”
“Riiiiiight…….and???? So what’s the problem?”

You want to SCREAM , because Bozo shouldn’t be there, but everyone is acting like it’s perfectly sane and normal. You feel like you’re in a crazy suspense movie, or on Candid Camera or maybe just off your rocker, but NOBODY seems to notice or make comment that there is a GLARING example of “What’s wrong with this picture” going on right before your eyes. Everyone just carries on as usual, behaving as though Bozo is SUPPOSED to be on the frontside of all your nickels. Perfect illustration of how things are when you deal with Boss and his cast of unconventional family members.

Anyway, “Bozo Nickels” is now covert office code. When something astonishingly peculiar happens, and the authorized, status quo response is to ignore it and pretend that it’s totally within the realm of the rational and routine , VP or I will catch the other’s attention and whisper, “Bozo Nickels.” Just a little reality buoy in a raging, oddball sea.

So now, The Pregzilla Chronicles has a burgeoning “mole”. (And I’ve just made allusions to VP not only as a dog, but a RODENT, for pity’s sake, but he’s pretty cool, and he likes the word “burgeoning”, so I hope he’ll forgive the word picture.) He gives me the latest news bulletins, reads me pertinent texts from Boss and Zilla, and just generally helps out with the information gathering so my cathartic journaling can flourish. Hats off to you, VP!

While my convenient mental health outlet is creative writing, VP has his own therapeutic method of dealing with the daily crises. He writes parody songs. The early Monday morning after the week I’d shared the Pregzilla blog URL with him, VP and I were the only ones in the building. He greeted me from his corner office, and advised me that once I was settled, he had something to share. Veep appeared, grinning, plucked an acoustic guitar from behind his door, walked over, slung his leg up on the credenza next to the printer in my workspace, cleared his throat and began to sing, to the tune of Johnny Cash’s “Folsom Prison Blues”

“I can hear Boss a comin’, comin’ round the bend,
That man ain’t been on time, since, I don’t know when,
He’s been trapped in Zilla’s prison, and time keeps a draggin’ on…”

I was literally ROLLING. And Veep promises there will be more, because that’s how HE deals with stress. He writes songs. I can’t wait.