View from the Top

Right now, I'm writing from the top floor of one of America's ugliest pieces of architecture. No, not Anna Nicole Smith's cleavage. Ha ha ha ha ha. No. Ha ha ha ha. Um, seriously, way no. I'm at University Hall setting up AV equipment for my role as technologist for the University of Illinois. Adding to the mystique and glamor of my job: playing chicken and pressing a button when prompted during this morning's presentation. Time to buy a remote for the office, I think.

Still, check out that view. Even the Sears Tower's weird boxy shape looks good measured against the ribbon of highway. I'm lucky I get to have these kinds of views. Even though I'm usually the guy hidden behind the curtain and today was the only guy in the room wearing less than a two piece suit (I had on khakis and my very newest sneakers), and even though I make about a third as much as these guys in a given year, I can still enjoy the view from the top.

Ha ha ha. I had you going for a minute, though, right? She's the dumb playmate who married the millionaire on his deathbed. Ring a bell? A bell that goes, "ha ha ha ha ha"? Okay, whatever.

Go, view.