Cindy

Droog

Read Cindy's bio and previous columns

April 2, 2009

The Piano Man, Corporate-Style

Although I wish it weren’t true, I’ve once again been sucked in by American Idol. I try to fight it, but resistance is futile. For one, I’m lured by competition in sports, life and careers. I think it all started at a New York City PR firm internship I had back in 1994, when three teams of interns had to do a real new business pitch to a potential client.

It was quite brutal. We had to pitch a diaper manufacturer, and since no one else on my team cared, our presentation ended up being something that diapers are meant to hold instead.

I vowed never to lose a professional competition again. Thankfully for America, I know I can’t sing, and it’s not lost on me that even my own children give painful facial expressions when I attempt lullabies.

I do, however, enjoy making up my own song lyrics. And Scott MacIntyre’s recent Billy Joel rendition reminded me that I’ve always wanted to rewrite Piano Man to reflect my job not as a musician, but as – like the Counting Crows sang – “just another writer, burned to the ground.”

So, I dedicate these lyrics to my old PR firm, my coworkers and Scott. Go get ‘em, curly!

It’s eight o’clock on a Monday

My coworkers all shuffle in

The guy who scheduled this meeting?

Have I got some choice thoughts for him.

He says, "Cindy, can you please phone in Canada
I'm not really sure the zip code,”
He asks so polite
And I just say all right 
Even though that is all a crap load.

Take us some notes; you're the one who can write
Send them off to our project manager and boss
‘Cuz the rest of us all are lazy, still weekend-hazy,  
And you lost last week’s coin toss

Now Kim, to my left, is a friend of mine
She brings in bagels and coffee
And she's quick to mock, or point out when it’s all a crock
But there's someplace we'd both rather be

She says, "Cindy, this company is killing me;
My brain used to be a creative hub;
Well, I'm sure I could be more successful,”
I laugh and say, “Sis, join the club!”

My aisle-mate is a wanna-be CEO,
Whose job he claims is his life
But he flirts all day with Katy, whose hair’s from the eighties
Instead of checking in with his wife

And my boss isn’t just practicing corporate politics
She’s actually already a pro
She’s teaching me about kiss-assiness
I’ve heard I should give it a go . . .  

Take us some good notes; you’re the writer
Have them typed up and e-mailed tonight
Finish them while you’re at home drinking the day away
We promise it will be all right.

It's a pretty good turn-out for a lunch meeting
And the free pizza’s the highlight of Jim’s day
'Cause you know that without it, he’d sit at his desk pouting

Just perusing the deals on e-Bay.

And the Power Point makes me want to vomit
With squiggly lines, unreadable charts and no cheer
But I sit and I nod, and think ‘bout getting a different job,
But the economy’s paralyzed me with fear.

Write us a presentation; you’re the wordsmith
And it is due today before five . . .
Be sure that it’s snappy and funny and perfect
Because it’s your career, not mine, that will dive.

Who knows? Maybe Dolly Parton and Scott MacIntyre will collaborate and make this song a reality – she needs a career comeback tune (and what better than today’s version of Nine to Five?) and he needs a career-launching one. And when they make me famous, I’ll buy Jim whatever he wants from e-Bay.

© 2009 North Star Writers Group. May not be republished without permission.

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