Weblog Sin Pies

By Charley Daniels

LOS ANGELES, Still — Well, this is it. I’m leaving for Oregon tomorrow. Back to visit the places where all my formative experiences occurred, if you know what I mean. It’s a simpler world than the big, glitzy metropolis of L.A. I’ll be taking some crucial knowledge back to my people, things I’ve learned in the fast-paced, fancy world that I’ve become accustomed to. I’ll be able to explain, without making it up this time, why there’s sometimes an extra fork at dinner. I’ll be able to speak with authority about things like valets and dry cleaning. I’ll be able to show Oregon men what that hole in the front of boxer shorts is for and, more importantly, what it isn’t for.

It’s so great to be able to give back to the people who gave so much to me. Do you know what I mean?

So I’m officially on vacation. Before I left the office this evening I had a few pre-vacation things that I had to take care of. Like doing a mediocre job on my work, because by the time I come back all will be forgotten. And more specific tasks, like changing my voicemail so that people who call know that I won’t be calling them back. My initial attempt was, “You’ve reached Charley Daniels on the dot-com news desk. I’m on vacation until August fifth, so please don’t leave a message, because what would be the point?” But I couldn’t manage it without sounding like an asshole, which isn’t generally the vibe I try to give off at work, especially since I do a pretty good job of that by accident. But I hate recording the greeting for my voicemail, so my other tries really sucked.

“This is Charley … no”

“You’ve reached the voicemail of … Shit, paused too long and now it sounds like I don’t know my own name”

“Charley Daniels is out of the office seeking help because he speaks in the third person”

“You’ve reached the voicemail of Darley Chaniels …”

This shouldn’t be so hard. I’ve always hated recording myself, which is why I almost never leave messages when I call someone. And now this. It took me at least 10 tries to get my outgoing message to the level of passable, and I don’t know if you’ve ever been in a large newsroom, but lemme tell you this: There’s no privacy. Picture your typical cubicle setup, but the cubicles are waist-high, rather than three-quarter walls. Sitting at my desk, I can have a conversation with at least eight people without standing up or even raising my voice. It’s all very cozy, which makes recording voicemail messages that much more painful. And guess what? I have to do it all over again when I get back.

Luckily that’s a whole other month, so I’m not sweating it. Tons of fun ahead! My next post will be from the wilds of Oregon.