It was midday when the three of us walked into the Mexican restaurant. Only I was named, as the others were traveling under assumed names, unknown to me. It was midday when the restaurant participants finally noticed the entry of an elf, a dwarf, and a man, each apparently mortal, but impressive beyond all imagining. They quickly looked away as we ordered our food.

I ordered a steak something they call kei-se-di-ya - it was mysterious for both me and the elf, but not apparently for the dwarf who ordered something else. The elf was a picky eater and had grown up on pizza and hot dogs, but his steak kei-se-di-ya seemed to agree with him.

We were here for our gifts. I had a ring of my own already, there to be recharged. The dwarf became a new ring-bearer. And the elf received a toothpick. These were our own choices, but such were their functions:

The Ring of Marriage: an eternal mate upon which all power is shared - for better or for worse - requiring a true leap of constant faith - a gift from Candle.
The Ring of Class: a removable ring and binder of minds with tales of adventure and mazes of adventure itself - an educational gift from the tribe of reflection.
The Toothpick of Disbelief: a sharp precise object for picking out the undesirable - examining it - and recycling it into new forms - like twin swords forged into a single handy wooden splinter - a gift from me.

We talked of the fellowship of the ring and Tolkien's trouble with women before we left on our own adventures as the tribunal. Their choice of names would soon become obvious.

I admit it. I node at work. I feel guilt about it. I think I shouldn't. I feel it's an example I must set for everyone who is not having fun at work. I want others to to have fun at work as well, and thus I node.

Deny this: Promote me. Allow me to delegate my responsibilities to trustworthy people. Why? Because I am working on nodes for servant leadership and networked administration. I'll teach them our ways. Your ways. Or I am already doing it. Ha!