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Callooh Callay

May 8, 2012

I was contemplating serenading you all with some guitar playing but thought better of it. So now you’re stuck with whatever is left in my head, which, since I spent all day preparing to chair a seriously long and detailed meeting of esteemed Toymakers tomorrow, is not much more than the lint you find in the pockets of your jeans after they’ve been in the dryer a little too long on high.

This state of affairs may account for why my laughing so loudly, long and hard at The Washington Post‘s column on the latest edition of Sherlock Holmes on PBS in which the author begins with a fantastic actor’s name, Benedict Cumberbatch — possibly the best name ever invented — and, halfway down the column decides to make it even more fantastic by converting it from Benedict Cumberbatch to Bandersnatch Cummerbund. I’m really hoping there is actually someone out there named Bandersnatch Cummerbund. And I was already immensely grateful for the existence of Benedict Cumberbatch. But in any case, my life is infinitely richer for this revision. Thank you, Fourth Estate!

So in all the hubbub over the new assistant that I am hiring, I totally forgot that I had posted for an intern until HR finally got back to me today with some resumes for people who don’t even begin to meet the job description. They are all very fine upstanding individuals, no doubt, with Ivy League degrees and the kind of resumes that looked like they’ve been coached since preschool to be Winners (with a capital W) and they are either earnest or desperate or panicked or terrified of their parents. But none of them has the one essential requirement I had laid out, which is that they need to speak Toy Language. It’s not just that it’s necessary for the job, but that I can make their job infinitely more interesting if they do. I can’t figure out if HR sent me the wrong batch of resumes or if no one qualified applied. And then the question becomes do I a) keep looking, b) give up or c) hire one of these people and hope they can either figure it out or that they are content fetching coffee and scanning the internet for obituaries (a real job that needs doing, sadly). It seems wrong somehow to refuse to hire people who want to work for free. This would be going so much better if they had posted the job back in February when I asked about it and not waited until the end of April when the deadlines for students obtaining internship grants were past due. Sigh. This is not helping my tendency toward control freakishness. Maybe I need a personality transplant. Or maybe I just need to change my name to Bandersnatch Cummerbund.

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5 Comments leave one →
  1. May 9, 2012 2:06 pm

    I read an article (because my daughter reads everything published about young Mr. Cummberbund) in which he said he liked those photos of otters matched up to his expressions. As we all do.

  2. May 9, 2012 2:08 pm

    How could you not? (I think I’ve read that article, too.)

  3. May 9, 2012 4:38 pm

    I had seen it but I am extremely happy to see it again, because it’s fantastic. I’m glad to hear the Mr. Cumberbatch is appreciative of all things otter. I mean, it’s not like they compared him to something unpleasant like a rat or a cockroach.

  4. May 10, 2012 8:53 am

    Cummersnatch Banderbund sounds like the name of the host of Masterpiece Theatre-style porn shows. Heyyy, that gives me an idea…

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