Job's Eyes

Sometime in the late 90's, before emo caught fire, it was an underground movement; a secret language of music, fashion and attitude among myself and small band of outsides. We listened passionately to Cursive, Sunny Day Real Estate, and Mineral.

What that has to do with the rest of this post is beyond me, but since I am new at blogging, and you are new to me (nudge, nudge, wink, wink, know what I mean?), I thought I should give you a proper introduction to my depravity.

That and, well, there's a bit of a subconscious link between that and Job's Eyes. You see, on one of those early 2nd wave emo albums (one from one of my then-favorites Far), Tin Cans With Strings to You, there was a song called Job's Eyes. Job, of course, was the story of righteous man who God allowed Satan to torment and throughout his tormenting, Job remained true to his God.

Years later, Arrested Development hit the television. It was a smart mix of Wes Anderson and The O.C. and, one of the smartest sitcoms ever written. The plotlines were heavily muddled and fascinating. Each member of the Bluth family was either more self centered, out of touch, altruistic or criminal than the next. One of the key characters, was Gob (pronounced "Job").

Job, an male stripper (for the Hot Cops), and disbarred magician, rode a Segway. One of Gob's tag line, "I've made a huge mistake," deservingly was used often. Gob, it seems, had a habit of making huge mistakes. Whether sleeping with the ugliest woman on earth when he felt his brother was interested in her (after mistaking his brother Michael's courtesy for flirting), or sleeping with his father's secretary/mistress, Kitty.

There are not many does that I do not think about Arrested Development, but I do not think of it often in my busy office. When I received an invitation to a training on time management with Bill Repp, I was immediately intrigued when I saw this on his profile:

"He is a member of the Society of American Magicians."

Oh, Gob would be a proud. Fortunately, this training over the phone, so there is no danger of Mr. Repp falling into Gob-like fits of tearing off his removable pants!

Copyright © 2007 David ben-Avram