If you missed previous segments of the CMEslinger saga, you can read them here:
And now, our latest segment:
Part 6 (Derek)
The man in black looked at Sierra’s finger in confusion. Why was she pointing at him? He wasn’t going to save the day. Saving the day was the CMEslinger’s job. He was just along for the ride.
He glanced over at Marge to give her a what-are-these-morons-talking-about look and saw her looking back at him with a knowing smile.
“What?” he asked.
“Come on, you know,” she said, her grin growing larger.
Now the man in black was getting annoyed.
“Marge, seriously, I don’t know what you two are talking about. Why are you looking at me like that. What do you know that I don-“
The man in black bit off his words midsentence as realization set in. His eyes grew wide and he started to shake his head.
“Oh no, don’t even think about it. Nope. Not happening. No.”
Marge never flinched.
“Oh Walter, don’t make such a fuss. We both know you’re going to do it. Let’s skip past all the fake macho bravado and move on to your inevitable acquiescence to save time. We need to move quickly here.”
The CMEslinger had to work hard to suppress a snort of laughter at Marge uttering the man in black’s rarely used first name. He was so particular about cultivating his ridiculous “man in black” mystique, and the CMEslinger couldn’t help but be amused by Marge cutting through it all.
The man in black was starting to lose his composure and began to sputter.
“What…I…how dare…no chance…inevitable acquiescence??…I…that was supposed to be confidential!” he finally blurted out.
Marge stuck out her bottom lip in a look of mock pity.
“I know, Walter, I’m sorry. It couldn’t be helped. Desperate times and all that.”
She quickly brightened and looked over at the CMEslinger and Sierra.
“He’ll do it!” she said happily.
While Sierra gave a quiet little fist pump, the CMEslinger shook his head in bewilderment.
“Do what, exactly?” he asked. “Can someone tell me what in Sam Hill is going on here? I feel like the last wallflower at the school dance when the band starts playing Wonderful Tonight.”
Marge came over and patted him on the shoulder.
“Walter has the most lovely singing voice you ever heard,” she said with complete sincerity.
The CMEslinger was now completely confused.
“Listen, Phinneas used to tell me I wasn’t the brightest spark in the tinderbox, mostly in jest, I think, but I utterly and truly have no idea what any of you people are talking about. Can someone please explain so we can get on with doing whatever needs doing?”
Marge gave the CMEslinger’s arm one last squeeze and went over to sit beside the man in black, who by now was slouched back on the couch, both palms covering his eyes and forehead, muttering about how this is not happening, not happening, this is definitely not happening.
“Back in the days when the three of us were still working for TAXIE, I stumbled upon a bit of information about our friend Walter here that is going to prove useful to us today. I can’t recall exactly when it happened, but I do remember that it occurred the evening after we had all watched an Alliance webinar on publishing outcomes. One of the panel members on the webinar was from the grants team at Tower and she spent most of her time complaining about how difficult it is to present outcomes data to senior management. Anyway, after the webinar I was in my office working late, as usual, when I heard the faint sounds of the most beautiful tenor voice. I walked out of my office thinking someone had left on their radio, but then the singing stopped and started up again. It was definitely someone in the office singing. I followed the sound of the voice and realized it was singing Bryan Adams’s (Everything I Do) I Do It for You, though the lyrics were a bit altered. It went:
Don’t tell me it’s not worth trying for
You can’t tell me outcomes aren’t worth dying for
You know IME’s true
Everything we do, we do it for you
“I turned the corner and standing at the copier, singing his heart out, was the man in black, who apparently was also working late and did not realize I was still there. Well, as you can imagine, he was horrified to see me and immediately stopped singing. I assured him there was no need for him to stop as he truly did and does have the voice of an angel. I teased him a bit about the change in lyrics and that’s when he said it. Do you want to tell them, Walter?”
The man in black said nothing but shook his head no. Marge continued.
“He told me ‘I know it’s silly, but listening to that webinar today made me think about all these supporters who moan about the challenges of presenting IME outcomes and ROI to their bosses. Maybe instead of doing the same old boring dog-and-pony PowerPoint shows, they should try adding a little pizzazz to their presentations. Do something that makes them stand out, grabs attention. And then I thought, if I’m ever in the position of making that kind of presentation to the C-suite, I would sing it. That would definitely be memorable. Then I started thinking of what song I would use and how I could change the words…and then you showed up.’”
Marge paused her story to give the man in black a quick smile and pat him on the back.
“So, when Sierra called me and explained her situation here, I thought back to that moment and knew exactly what we needed to do. Walter is going to sing the value proposition!”
The CMEslinger sat staring at Marge and the man in black with mouth agape. He seemed to be in a trance of disbelief. Once he recognized that Marge had stopped talking, he shook his head vigorously, as if to clear out the cobwebs, and leaned back in his chair.
“That is,” he said slowly, “without a doubt…the dumbest idea I have ever heard. We are going to rely on the singing voice of this two-bit knucklehead to save my daughter’s career? No way. Impossible.”
Marge’s eyes flared and the smile on her face hardened.
“First of all,” she said testily, “It’s not impossible. You haven’t even heard him sing. Second, the CEO of Tower – Thomas Vandersnook is his name in case you have forgotten – is a massive patron of the arts. He sings in his church choir and has a reserved box at the opera. Music is his passion. Third, and last, we are out of time. I am leaving now to get back to TAXIE and my reaccreditation. I have prepared all the charts, graphs, and slides you could possibly need for the value prop presentation. I have even selected the song and wrote suitable lyrics. It’s all right here. My work here is done.”
The CMEslinger, still bewildered by what was happening, leaned forward in his chair to plead with Marge.
“The CEO of Tower? You think we’re going to do this for Thomas Vandersnook? How are we even going to get a meeting with him?”
For the first time in a long while, Sierra spoke up.
“It’s OK, Dad. Leave that to me.”
CMEPALOOZA 