…next month with a former colleague across town (now a management puke, but I did her a few favors back when we were neighbors down on the food chain, and she remains favorably disposed these many years later), who promises to fill me in on the juicy details. I don’t know what went down, but if handcuffs were not involved, it was nevertheless something that got some senior knickers very twisted indeed, and I gather that the closest the negotiations got to talk of a golden parachute was to have the plane fly low over a brackish marsh before they kicked the guy’s ass out the cargo door sans silk.
cordially,
cordially,