The Cone of Silence

A Get Smart fan might have been disappointed after seeing Don Adams and the shoephone in my “KAOS or Control” piece, last week. Despite posting the pic and using the acronym in place of the actual word chaos, I made no reference to the iconic 60s TV series. That kinda sucked. So here’s a true story based on one of the more memorable gadgets featured in the show:

It’s the late 1990s. I’m working as part of a superior administrative team headed up by the present Mistress of the Manse who, in her professional life, is affectionately referred to as “Ms. Wormwood”, after the tyrannical schoolteacher in the Calvin and Hobbes comic strip. Our group works hard, but there are days when I suffer from glass butt syndrome and can’t sit still. Worse, I wander the cubical canal and chat over the walls at my colleagues, until Ms. W. is forced to employ drastic measures.

“Ms. Greig,” she says from her desk, “the Cone of Silence is descending!”

Duly chastised, I skulk back to my cube and resume squirming. On some days, once warned is enough. Today, not so much. I am consistently called back beneath the Cone because I apparently have less interest in earning my pay than in aimless chirping. After how many episodes, and figuring that a more severe consequence is required, Ms. Wormwood rises from her desk, stalks along the aisle, and growls into my ear:

“Ms. Greig, the Cone of Silence is about to become the Cone of Isolation!”

I am tempted to point out that, in the series, the Cone of Silence never actually worked, but in this instance, it’s safer to scamper. Ms. Wormwood is infinitely scarier than the Chief of CONTROL.

We still laugh about that episode.