My Life in the Bush of Geister
Oct. 4th, 2006 12:02 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
fr_defenestratothe Cheese Lords had back-to-back concerts last weekend, but until we got to each venue i didn't understand how strange these concerts were.
the first, on Saturday was in a place called "Casa Maria" which i took to be some kind of religious establishment, some faith-based women's shelter or quasi-nunnery. it wasn't. it's a private residence inhabited by one Ms. Cynthia Tremblay and, one assumes, her servants. it is serious wealth—not super-obscene wealth (all things being relative) but wealth enough to have a few hundred acres in Greenwood, Virginia; at least two Picassos, a Georgia O'Keefe, and an Alexander Calder mobile in the stairwell; exotic livestock including a miniature donkey; and no-name but very smart statuary and paintings everywhere you look. Like the bit about the Addams Family, her house IS a museum. anyway, the Lords got to stand at the top of her Tara staircase and sing to the audience assembled in the main hall. afterward Cynthia threw a catered reception--jumbo shrimp! portobello and Swiss chard streudel! crab dip! cheese "cookies"! etc. and, of course, red wine. we chatted with the filthy rich, and it occurred to me and other lords that Cynthia Tremblay—and a sister-in-law we met, née Tremblay—were quite obviously party girls in their day and probably still liked kicking up their heels. Cynthia in particular seemed eager to have us back—on a more casual basis, for food and socializing, as well as for performing next year in her concert series.
the second concert, on Sunday, was part of something called the Mousetrap Concert Series in Washington Grove, Maryland. this is a shady (like oak-tree-shady, not cyber-congressman-shady) little hamlet between Gaithersburg and Frederick that apparently grew directly out of a late 19th century tent revival (back when fundie christians tended to care more about their own souls than ensuring—and relishing—the eternal torment of others')... anyway, the hall is an octagonal structure all in hardwood—the acoustic is GORGEOUS. and the audience, pound for pound, was probably the most enthusiastic i've ever sung to. after the encore several community members rushed up to the front and handed out actual mousetraps, each clutching onto a single-size packet of "Cheez-Its". :)
BTW, we performed my piece "A rose beheld the sun" at both of these concerts, to a very receptive audience; several people at the Casa Maria reception sought me out to thank me for the piece, and one woman at Washington Grove found herself "transported" by it. of course there were no critics at either function. the piece is now retired for the time being.
so that's that. next up: a concert at the National Gallery of Art on Sunday, November 12.
i'm jobhunting again.
last week Ben Dicker—a long-term Andrew Undershaft Industries (AUI) employee—a VP for business development though technically always a consultant—came to me to discuss an important opportunity we will be bidding on over the next 12-18 months, the recompetition of a vastly lucrative IDIQ(1) contract. although Ben has long been a gourd votary, a troubadour of my talents, he explained that this proposal will be so huge and so long-term (also that it will be pursued primarily in the Ft. Monmouth, NJ office) that he wanted to bring in a consultant to serve as proposal manager (typically my job)—somebody AUI has worked with before, including the last time this same contract was bid (and, obviously, won). i told Ben i had no problem with somebody serving functionally on a particular proposal so long as administratively i remained the lead proposal manager for the company, i.e., promotable into my departed boss's job. so last thursday i helped Ben interview this guy—coincidentally named Carl Dicker. he is certainly a highly qualified and highly skilled person. then friday afternoon in a spot of strategic conversation Ben let it slip that he's been talking to Carl about coming on as staff. specifically as the Director of Proposal Operations: my boss. i have no grounds on which to argue that this guy SHOULDN'T be hired for this position, as he has many more years' experience in proposal than i do. but i feel betrayed in that Ben led me to believe i was interviewing a temporary consultant, not my goddamn boss. and hiring someone in the open slot left by my dear departed boss Alan Passkey means that i have no immediate prospects for promotion.
anyway, i've reposted my rezoom on careerbuilder.com and have already gotten two very promising hits: one from MoneyChangers (tag line: "We're Not Enron!") in D.C. proper (much shorter/less expensive commute) and one from a AUI competitor in Reston (commute=ugh but money looks good). keeping my fingers crossed. really, i wish Satan would just retire or get fired from PSA so i could go back there and work on Health and Human Services stuff again instead of armaments.
(1) indefinite delivery, indefinite quantity: typically a contract vehicle involving multiple awardees who then compete internally for individual task orders as they are issued. it's a way of pre-screening to remove those contractors unlikely to do a good, cheap job.
the first, on Saturday was in a place called "Casa Maria" which i took to be some kind of religious establishment, some faith-based women's shelter or quasi-nunnery. it wasn't. it's a private residence inhabited by one Ms. Cynthia Tremblay and, one assumes, her servants. it is serious wealth—not super-obscene wealth (all things being relative) but wealth enough to have a few hundred acres in Greenwood, Virginia; at least two Picassos, a Georgia O'Keefe, and an Alexander Calder mobile in the stairwell; exotic livestock including a miniature donkey; and no-name but very smart statuary and paintings everywhere you look. Like the bit about the Addams Family, her house IS a museum. anyway, the Lords got to stand at the top of her Tara staircase and sing to the audience assembled in the main hall. afterward Cynthia threw a catered reception--jumbo shrimp! portobello and Swiss chard streudel! crab dip! cheese "cookies"! etc. and, of course, red wine. we chatted with the filthy rich, and it occurred to me and other lords that Cynthia Tremblay—and a sister-in-law we met, née Tremblay—were quite obviously party girls in their day and probably still liked kicking up their heels. Cynthia in particular seemed eager to have us back—on a more casual basis, for food and socializing, as well as for performing next year in her concert series.
the second concert, on Sunday, was part of something called the Mousetrap Concert Series in Washington Grove, Maryland. this is a shady (like oak-tree-shady, not cyber-congressman-shady) little hamlet between Gaithersburg and Frederick that apparently grew directly out of a late 19th century tent revival (back when fundie christians tended to care more about their own souls than ensuring—and relishing—the eternal torment of others')... anyway, the hall is an octagonal structure all in hardwood—the acoustic is GORGEOUS. and the audience, pound for pound, was probably the most enthusiastic i've ever sung to. after the encore several community members rushed up to the front and handed out actual mousetraps, each clutching onto a single-size packet of "Cheez-Its". :)
BTW, we performed my piece "A rose beheld the sun" at both of these concerts, to a very receptive audience; several people at the Casa Maria reception sought me out to thank me for the piece, and one woman at Washington Grove found herself "transported" by it. of course there were no critics at either function. the piece is now retired for the time being.
so that's that. next up: a concert at the National Gallery of Art on Sunday, November 12.
i'm jobhunting again.
last week Ben Dicker—a long-term Andrew Undershaft Industries (AUI) employee—a VP for business development though technically always a consultant—came to me to discuss an important opportunity we will be bidding on over the next 12-18 months, the recompetition of a vastly lucrative IDIQ(1) contract. although Ben has long been a gourd votary, a troubadour of my talents, he explained that this proposal will be so huge and so long-term (also that it will be pursued primarily in the Ft. Monmouth, NJ office) that he wanted to bring in a consultant to serve as proposal manager (typically my job)—somebody AUI has worked with before, including the last time this same contract was bid (and, obviously, won). i told Ben i had no problem with somebody serving functionally on a particular proposal so long as administratively i remained the lead proposal manager for the company, i.e., promotable into my departed boss's job. so last thursday i helped Ben interview this guy—coincidentally named Carl Dicker. he is certainly a highly qualified and highly skilled person. then friday afternoon in a spot of strategic conversation Ben let it slip that he's been talking to Carl about coming on as staff. specifically as the Director of Proposal Operations: my boss. i have no grounds on which to argue that this guy SHOULDN'T be hired for this position, as he has many more years' experience in proposal than i do. but i feel betrayed in that Ben led me to believe i was interviewing a temporary consultant, not my goddamn boss. and hiring someone in the open slot left by my dear departed boss Alan Passkey means that i have no immediate prospects for promotion.
anyway, i've reposted my rezoom on careerbuilder.com and have already gotten two very promising hits: one from MoneyChangers (tag line: "We're Not Enron!") in D.C. proper (much shorter/less expensive commute) and one from a AUI competitor in Reston (commute=ugh but money looks good). keeping my fingers crossed. really, i wish Satan would just retire or get fired from PSA so i could go back there and work on Health and Human Services stuff again instead of armaments.
(1) indefinite delivery, indefinite quantity: typically a contract vehicle involving multiple awardees who then compete internally for individual task orders as they are issued. it's a way of pre-screening to remove those contractors unlikely to do a good, cheap job.
