Dear Ferret Folks-

Many of you might not even recognize this name. Remember it. Remember
it well.

It is Marylou Zarbock. Not Mary *Lou*, Marylou. Marylou Zarbock. She
is an editor at Bowtie Publications and as such has been my boss at
Ferrets Magazine for oh, about a decade. Something like that. Honestly,
I am not even sure any more.

This Marylou. She e-mails me last week. And what does she do? She
fires me. Out of the blue."Sargent-Colburn? Yer outta here, and
take yer flyin' tractor with you."

And ya know what I say?

I say "Marylou, you are the best boss that I have ever had, and it
has been a privilege to work with you for all of these years."

Thank you for all the hard work you did in the past to make the print
edition of Ferrets Magazine such a delight. And when you folks had to
move from the print edition to the internet edition it was like the
words the immortal character Norma Desmond said in the classic
Hollywood movie 'Sunset Boulevard.' ---"I *am* big. It's the *pictures*
that got small."

Yes, they did. And not because of any failing on *your* part. This is
an age that is ruthlessly eating up periodicals. And now Ferrets USA
is no more, so I am told. Another Bowtie publication under Marylou's
purview. And Critters Magazine? The same. The internet edition of
Ferrets Magazine? Up and running, but a bit wobbly at the knees at
the moment.

Now, I have been fired before. (Slapping hands against sides of face.)
I know! Can you *believe* it? But it's true. Not everyone appreciates
me for me. There was the time the company I was working for put me up
at the Four Seasons hotel in Montreal, and I had the local fried
chicken restaurant deliver my dinner in their distinctive little yellow
truck with the light up chicken on top right to the front doors. Sainte
Hubert chicken, there is nothing like it. And there is nothing quite
like being fired. Actually, if you take the letters in the word 'fried'
and scramble them around, you get 'fired.' Who knew? It *wasn't* in the
company handbook.

I got fired once when an entire case of whiskey went missing at the
restaurant I waitressed at. Why suspect me? Because I had abruptly
stopped drinking Mai-Tai's and Scorpion Bowls with my co-workers
after work at the bar when the restaurant was closed (yes, a Chinese
restaurant) and started attending AA Meetings. That meant I must have
had a drinking problem. Now, my co-workers who stayed until two in the
morning and drank all of their tips and then staggered to their cars
and drove over the curb to get home, they were not suspects.The fact
that I no longer drank meant that I had a 'problem'. So when the case
of whiskey disappeared, I was the first suspect. You see the logic,
don't you?

I promise you, Marylou Zarboc is the only person on earth who can fire
me and what do I think? "Oh, no! Is Marylou OK? Is her job secure? Oh,
gosh, she is having to fire folks, I don't think she is going to like
that much...In fact, I am sure of it."

Marylou, If I had any of that case of whiskey left (how did they
imagine I was going to sneak a wooden box that weighed more than I did
at the time out of the building under my little uniform skirt?) I would
pour you a shot. HOWEVER, you live in California, so maybe a nice glass
of white Zinfandel and me yelling up your bosses pant-leg "DO YOU NOR
REALIZE WHAT A TREASURE YOU HAVE IN THIS WOMAN?" is the best I can do.

You can fire me anytime.

Alexandra in MA

[Posted in FML 7493]