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I Know It's Here, Somewhere
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12359 |
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Section : |
LIFE
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| Issue
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1 / 1987 |
1,230 Words |
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Harold Rosenthal
Harold Rosenthal is a sports columnist for the New York City
Tribune. |
If the time ever comes when someone, claiming to be a member of the human species, decides it's imperative that the button be pressed that will convert us all into dancing motes in the filtered sunshine, one thing will be certain: It will be done from a desk. If the gleaming red finger-rest isn't planted on the desk in readiness, it'll be brought in by some lackey for the tender ministrations of the man, woman, or whatever charged with the awesome task of conveying us to that happy land where there are no further carrying charges, tax reforms, or TV laff-tracks.
He will set it down in front as a final photo opportunity. That's because practically every historic move in the last ten centuries has had its genesis at a desk. That goes for the Declaration of Independence written by one Thomas Jefferson in an upstairs room in a Philadelphia boarding house on hot, airless June without benefit of air-conditioning. On a desk.
You'd think that given the importance of desks people would have learned how to manage them for maximum efficiency. Absolutely not. The last U.S. Geodetic Survey indicated 67 percent of the nation maintains (nay, wallows in) that lovable condition known as the "dirty-desk," which has nothing to do with the condition of their underclothing or spots on a cravat.
It refers to the glaring organized disorder. For God's sake, who told you to straighten up my desk? It'll take me a week to find that real-estate tax receipt. Did you know I paid it in case because the checking account was overdrawn?
Dirty desks come in various styles,
... (1995 of 6864 Characters)
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