Island of sanity

No man is an island, entire of itself.
Every man is a piece of the continent, a part of the main says English metaphysical poet John Donne.
"Any man's death diminishes me, because I am involved in mankind." (Meditation XVII, Devotions upon Emergent Occasions)
Donne is pushing the idea that we are all vitally interlinked, members of Planet Man (or Planet Woman) -- call it Planet People -- that the death of others diminshes our lives.
But, no man is an island?
Well, Mr. Donne, you haven't visited my office.
Some of my co-workers would definitely fit into the category of autonomous land masses, complete and entire in themselves -- i.e. they are nuts Johnny.
Completely nuts and entirely wacky unto themselves.
I offer as evidence: Don (names have been changed to protect the identies of the strange), a journalist who works at a desk near mine.
Don recently came back from a trip to Peru, but he did not return alone -- he brought along a little friend, a wooden figurine of a cat, whom he calls The Cat.
Don, who drinks copious amounts of coffee, arranges his mugs and Tim Hortons cups into towers on his desk, and places The Cat on top.
At different times of the day, Don swivels the cat on its perch and announces, "The Cat is looking at you." (Note: as I type this his cat is staring at me.)
Sometimes I swear that cat is moving closer and closer to my desk.
Exhibit B: Shirl, a newly-hired co-worker who is definitely an island unto herself.
Shirl sits quietly at her desk typing her stories every day -- you wouldn't know she was there except for the occasional crinkling sounds from her desk indicating it is time for yet another granola snack.
Shirl is a variation of what is known in Seinfeld terms as a low-talker.
The low-talker speaks at an inaudible volume -- Shirl, on the other hand, starts off a sentence at a normal volume and then trails off to a pitch only a dog could hear.
Shirl: "I have discovered the meaning of life, it's so simple . . ." VOICE TRAILS OFF.
Me: What?
Shirl: I said mumble mumble mumble.
Me: What?
Shirl: mumble mumble mumble
Exhibit C: Mack the IT guy.
Mack visits our office from time to time, occasionally accompanied by a fake parrot on his shoulder-- he fits into the Don category of co-workers.
The parrot often offers helpful advice to fix IT problems and root out computer viruses.
Finally, there is the grandaddy of oddities, Evelyn, our office's head honcho.
Evelyn encourages his workers with the stick and carrot approach.
If you write a good story, he puts a happy face sticker ont the printed-out article (you know, the kind of stickers used by your teacher in Grade 2 on spelling tests).
A bad story means a visit from Mo, his electronic chimpanzee -- Mo can be loud and abusive at times. Shirl and Rapunzel, our sales manager, have both sworn a vendetta against the manic monkey (Mo not Evelyn) from time to time.
Then again, perhaps Mr. Donne is right.
Taken as a whole, Shirl, Don and Evelyn form a pattern for my office, a pattern of interlinked occasional insanities.
Maybe there's a Shirl, a Don and an Evelyn in every office (but somehow I don't think so), and their loss would diminish our unique communities.
I like to think of myself as an Island of Sanity, a term coined by that other great metaphysical thinker, Lowell Green.
But then again, this particular Island of Sanity is surrounded by a collection of odd-looking islands.
But somehow it all works.