I am not a neatnik. In fact, I am a bit sloppy. My desk always has debris, some useful, some, well, not. On my desk today I have, among other things, a box of business cards, a small foldable calculator, a picture of me with my wife, a Minnesota Twins 1987 World Series mug, an almost empty bag of Cherry Twizzler Bites, a New York Times crossword puzzle date book calendar, and a Red Swingline stapler. Oh, and I should mention two Pez dispensers.

I have other stuff, like about 25 random post it notes saying cryptic things like “train staff on second seller carryback” and “update daily report charts” and even “b@rnt0us3” which is clearly a password, but to what?

Box of Business Cards

I work at an internet company. We do all of our business over the web or phone, and sometimes by mail. I never meet clients, never meet customers, and occasionally I go to trade shows. For this last reason, I decided to pick up a box of business cards (about 500—I got a deal).

I have given away 6 cards. In my previous job as a marketing manager for a large software company, where I did meet customers, did meet clients, and often went to trade shows, I had a similar box of cards. I think in 3 years, I gave away 12. That’s almost double. On the other hand, my box of cards then held 1,000 cards, so maybe that wasn’t better.

Aesthetic Value—8 out of 10

Practical Value—1 out of 10

Small Foldable Freebie Calculator

I’m kind of a big deal around here, so I generally get someone else to do my math for me. But for those times when I really need to add (today I had to add 56.66, 50.01, 54.77, 50.01, 54.77, and 63.66) and can’t find a minion to do it for me, well, it’s way better for me to just start punching keys on this little thing than click start, all programs, accessories, calculator, then start clicking numbers on my screen. Way better.

I have no idea if I added those numbers right. I’m too important to double check my math.

Aesthetic Value—2 out of 10

Practical Value—5 out of 10

Picture of Me with Wife (Kim)

It’s not like I need to be reminded that I’m married. I just like looking at her picture. I have a picture of my 3 kids on the desk too. At the risk of angering those who think I’m pandering or sucking up or whatever, I’m going to just say—I did well in the family department.

Aesthetic Value—10 out of 10

Practical Value—5 out of 10

Minnesota Twins 1987 World Series Mug

Having grown up in Minnesota cheering the likes of Tony Oliva and Harmon Killebrew, having sat in the bleachers with my dad at Metropolitan Stadium watching the Twins lose, having sat in Met Stadium in December watching the Vikings make the playoffs with the Purple People Eaters and Fran Tarkenton, only to go on to lose 4 Superbowls, I will never part with this mug. 1987 was a good year. Frank Viola, Bert Blyleven, Jeff Rearden, Kirby Pucket, Kent Hrbek. It happened again in 1991, in an even better series, but at the time, it had never happened in my lifetime, and none of us ever expected it to happen again.

Aesthetic Value—10 out of 10

Practical Value—10 out of 10

Almost Empty Bag of Cherry Twizzler Bites

I do love Twizzlers. Pull n Peels, regular Twizzler, and bites. Yum. I pretty much always have a bag on my desk. That’s how I get the guys in the back, the programmers and designers, to come to the front to talk to me. They come for Twizzlers and stay for marching orders.

Twizzler Bites are also perfect for church, symphony, road trips, even for the nightstand, along with Gatorade and Power Gels. When I was a kid, I would buy bags of Twizzler Bites and empty them under my pillow, for nighttime gnoshing.

Aesthetic Value—2 out of 10

Practical Value—11 out of 10

New York Times Crossword Puzzle Date Book Calendar

I’m not really a crossword puzzles guy. I just don’t have the patience. This little date book just sits on my desk, taking up space, making me look like I care what day it is and what’s on my calendar. Turns out, I don’t really care.

Aesthetic Value—4 out of 10

Practical Value—1 out of 10

Red Swingline Stapler

I don’t staple stuff much, and in the copy room we have a more convenient electric stapler. But every time I look at this Swingline, I think of Office Space, Milton, and I laugh. That’s worth a lot. I have a picture of my family to remind me of marital bliss, I have this stapler to make me chuckle. Never fails. It’s like a chuckle button. Every time, when I look at the stapler, this goes through my head:

“And I said, I don't care if they lay me off either, because I told, I told Bill that if they move my desk one more time, then, then I'm, I'm quitting, I'm going to quit. And, and I told Don too, because they've moved my desk four times already this year, and I used to be over by the window, and I could see the squirrels, and they were married, but then, they switched from the Swingline to the Boston stapler, but I kept my Swingline stapler because it didn't bind up as much, and I kept the staples for the Swingline stapler and it's not okay because if they take my stapler then I'll set the building on fire...”

See, now I’m chuckling again. Like clockwork.

Aesthetic Value—7 out of 10

Practical Value—9 out of 10

Two Pez Dispensers

One is Spiderman, but with some funky sumo extra pieces a friend brought back from Japan, and one is General Grievous, that I stole from my 8 year old. Neither has had actual Pez candy in forever, but that’s not really what Pez Dispensers are for anyway.

What I like about these is that they sit on the corner of my desk, and when people come in they either play with them or they knock them off the desk. Then they’re embarrassed, and they have to pick them up and put them together. And I just sit and watch, smiling.

It’s the little things.

Aesthetic Value—8 out of 10

Practical Value—8 out of 10

--dug

Once upon a time, there were three little girls who went the Police Academy, and they were each assigned very hazardous duties. But I took them away from all that, and now they work for me. My name is Charlie.  

These forty words pretty much ruled my world during the magical first season of Charlie’s Angels starting in 1976. Sure, the Vietnam War had just barely ended, Ford was on his way out, Carter in, and things were generally, well, not so good. But whenever I heard John Forsythe utter those beautiful words, and saw Farrah’s hair bounce in that unearthly way, all my problems just disappeared.

Although, really, I was 11. How many problems could I have had?

Of course, like everyone, I’ve played “who’s your favorite angel.” If any of you say Lucy Liu, I’m going to have to ask you to go away and come back later, when we’re done. We’ll review the fake angels some other time. They are like Pink Floyd after 1985, or the Sammy Hagar led Van Halen (I will not debate this)—not the real thing, never really happened. Or, never happened until I review them later.

By the way, I’m outraged. If you go to IMDB.com to read about Charlie’s Angels, they list Jaclyn Smith, David Doyle, John Forsythe, Cheryl Ladd, and Kate Jackson. First, what’s Cheryl Ladd doing that high in the list? Outrageous. And second, where’s Farrah? You have to click the More button to see Farrah. This is an outrage. If you’re not outraged, you’re not breathing. And don’t try to tell me you’re saving your outrage for George Bush. He’s more worthy of your pity. Be outraged at the retards who voted for him.

Anyway.

Let’s take them one at a time, starting with the obvious (because you know you had her poster):

Jill Munroe
Farrah Fawcette (the Majors is a major distraction, and I don’t like to use it) as Jill Munroe. Dumb. Ditzy. Helpless. The very definition of Jiggle TV. And despite my age and hormonal breakout, not my favorite. But over the years since, she’s become my favorite, because of everything crazy about her career since then, how she married abusive men, became an alcoholic, wierded us all out with her appearance on Letterman, did some really great small time TV and movie work, got to be a strong woman, all that. And have you seen her lately? She looks old and young and smoking hot all at the same time. I’m intrigued.

Plus, she helped usher in the era of TV star free agency. She totally lost in that battle, but she stepped up and said “I’m the hottest, and I want more money.” Even though the studio called her bluff and sent her packing, you have to respect that. She pulled a David Caruso 20 years before David Caruso.

In sports, the regular season MVP is supposed to be decided by the regular season, without regard to the playoffs. If I were voting purely on her work in the first season with Charlie, I would say she was the weakest angel, but I’m giving her 9 out of 10. I like Farrah. And I still have that poster, the one of her sitting in the clear plastic chair. In fact, I think I might put it up in my son’s room. The only problem with Farrah’s Jill Monroe is I always felt like she was going to get drunk and hook up with Bosley. Ew.

Kelly Garrett 
Jaclyn Smith is a wonderful person. Warm, generous, stunningly beautiful. My sister did her hair on quite a few subsequent projects, and even babysat her kids. She loves Jaclyn Smith.

And yet, I can’t get into her. Her character was blasé, she was blasé, she’s been blasé in everything she’s done since, which isn’t much, and did you see her in the TV mini series versions of Windmills of the Gods and The Bourne Identity? She just leaves me cold. I can’t figure it out. You figure it out. Sometimes you have to vote with your gut.

Jaclyn gets a 6 out of 10, a huge upset, and an almost unheard of low score for an original angel. I’m sorry, I’ve run the numbers over and over, and that’s what I get.

Sabrina Duncan
In 1976 I was head over heals in love with Kate Jackson. LOVED her. She was the smart angel, the clever angel, the one who was one step ahead of the bad guys. You knew that if Charlie was to ever stop his womanizing, stopped hanging out in the hot tub with hot teenage girls like Hugh Hefner does, you know his first choice, like mine, would have been Sabrina. Smart, AND beautiful.

Now, I know this is going to sound silly, and you won’t believe me. You’re going to say I’m pandering, you’re going to stop reading, say I’ve gone soft and all. Like Tom Cruise, I just don’t care. And I’m climbing onto the couch here:

I married Sabrina. She gets a 10 out of 10.

--dug