AND ONE DAY THE PHONE RINGS AND THE HOLIDAY ENDS

Oh how much fun can a man have before there is a price to pay? Well I was about to find out. The days were flowing by in a haze of water, food, touring and other fun pastimes. I had almost completely gotten over the stress of the last few years’ work. Living up on top of the hotel, I came to believe that it would never end. Ultimately, we would live happily ever after between the pools, ocean and buffets. My only touch with reality was that every so often I would turn on the TV. I did so only to catch up. And I put up with it, until it started to depress me.

That usually took about 10 minutes. It was idyllic, if I haven’t worn that term out yet, peaceful, yet exciting and full of happiness. What could possibly interfere with this bliss? Well let me tell you. I’m sitting there, feeling like a king one morning, when I hear the ringy ding of that evil instrument of bad news, break into our tranquility with the most awful noise. What the hell can this be? The only one that knew where we were was Auntie Lalitas and she was with us. Oh well maybe it’s the front desk wanting to upgrade us some more. Reluctantly I reach for it, in my most friendly voice, and say “hello”. ……..

The voice on the other end is so smooth and full of shit, that I immediately become wary. A spot behind my shoulder blades, now, starts to itch. It’s that feeling you get just before someone is about to sucker punch you. “Hello Jim, I’m so glad I caught up with you. How is your trip going, when are you going back home?” All of this makes me further apprehensive. Mainly, because my friend, with whom I was planning to go to work, had all of that information. It so happens that this particular guy was a couple of rungs up the ladder from my friend. He had both of our work destiny(s), firmly in his control.

Why in hell would he call me in Hawaii, from San Fransisco when I firmly believed that my work path was already decided. He starts by saying that the war in Kuwait was over and the aftermath of destruction was epic. He said that a group of professionals was being assembled at that moment to go and deal with the destruction. And finishes by asking if I would care to join them? Well I can’t, because I was already expected in Pennsylvania and even being waited on at the very moment.

“Not any longer, you’re not, you have been released to us, this is our highest priority job and anyone from any of our divisions, worldwide, at any level can be requested to go and will have no other options than to get on their horse and go. You now are back in the Oil and Gas entity once again”! “I’ll need to see you in San Fransisco within a week, for orientation, medical tests and debrief. Have a good rest of your holidays and I’ll speak to you soon.”

I must have sat there stunned, because Deysi came over with a look of concern and asked me “is anything wrong?” It was still, hard to believe what I have just been asked/told to do. I tell her, then I immediately place a call to my bud and explain the conversation that I have just been in. He is sympathetic but is already aware that my ass is going to Kuwait not to Pennsylvania. Geezus, whattameye gonna do now. For once the ol’ H…d mouth hadn’t gotten me in trouble and it didn’t appear like it was getting me out of it either. I guess you can kind of imagine that this call pretty much killed the rest of my stress free vacation. I was instantly a bag of nerves, agitated, irritated, slightly vulgar and not my usual steely calm self.

Deysi was thinking, “now that’s the Jimbo I know, where has he been hiding?” So I’m kinda pissed about getting sidetracked, nervous about the prospects of going into a war zone, frightened a bit, excited a bit and starting to resign myself to the fact, that I was indeed going, like it or not. Now Deysi digs her heals in and hands on hips, proclaims that I am not allowed to go. “Just tell them you are not going and to send someone else”.

Well I think my previous two calls have clarified all of the “grey areas”, they weren’t really asking for my vote, they were telling me how to vote ,or, go to find my next employer. For Deysi, being Peruvian, there was always some kind of negotiation that could be done in any situation. “Come on man, have you no huevos, tell those people you are not going and that’s final!” Where is my gun? Let me end it now!

Well the long and short of it was, we head for home, all the while fighting Deysi off from phoning an owner of the company (the largest engineering company in the world at the time) and asking why I had to go. It was a very difficult situation, we had not been back to Canada for three years at this point, I had a couple of days to get packed and off for San Fransisco. Here we are in Calgary on an acreage, that we had never seen before and I was about to dump off Deysi and the girls. It was not a really happy occasion.

I once again leave Deysi with unloading (our stuff from South Africa had arrived in Canada), settling into a new house, getting the girls in a new school, and making their lives normal again. I have no idea where I’m going or how to get there, I just know that I am now resigned to the fact, that I am about to visit Q8.