Foolery

I'm Sorry

(Image stolen from this site)

Tonight at sundown the Jewish holy day of Yon Kippur came to a close.  Though I am not Jewish, nor even religious, I find other people's sacred beliefs fascinating and often very moving.  My blog friend Sher at wrekehavoc.com used her blog to offer up apologies for wrongs or shortcomings, which is one of the things Yom Kippur, the Day of Atonement, is all about.

I told Sher that maybe I could use her example as a learning tool for my children.  I was half right; I offered myself up as a tool, all right.

ME, after a simple explanation of the meaning of the day for Jews:  "Tonight, instead of saying our 'I'm Thankfuls' [our version of grace] I thought we could go around the table and each of us say something we're sorry for.  I'll start. "

[I'm sorry I ever started down this path in the first place.]

ME:  "I'm sorry that I get mad at you girls quickly, before listening.  I should listen more. I'm sorry."

CHAS:  "I was going to say about the same thing:  I'm sorry that I lose my temper too easily."

SMEDLEY, AGE 7:  "I'm sorry that I'm mean to you in the morning, Mama.  I'm sorry."

SPARKY, AGE 5:  "I hope I don't toot any more."

Sher, I'm sorry.  I hope your Yom Kippur was meaningful, and that you'll understand I had the best intentions.  And that I fed Sparky to the coyotes right after dinner.  I'm sorry.

Find Your Mentor Where You May

SpongeBob:  "I used to have a dream."

Mr. Crabs:  "Well, I used to have a kidney stone.  Everything passes eventually."


(Cartoon stolen from these guys)

One Jump Ahead of the Competition

(Graphic stolen from this guy)

Here's an ethical question for you.

My friend lives in a tiny town.  He's a family man -- two kids and a wife, a couple of dogs.  He teaches part-time at a nearby university.  He's a good provider.  He is also his town's ambulance driver.

Okay, here's the ethical part.  My friend's main occupation is attorney at law (his brother prefers the term Scum-Sucking Lawyer).  Does anyone else see a problem with this?  He definitely gets a jump on any ambulance CHASERS in town.

"I don't think Mr. Jones is going to make it.  I wonder if Mrs. Jones has a good attorney?  Somebody needs to pay!"

I wonder if my friend keeps business cards in his pockets?

"Here's my card, Ma'am.  Call me . . . after.  Hey, have you considered selling your house?  It's in a great neighborhood."

I suppose if he had a good "opportunity" in his ambulance he could take the turns pretty hard and go over speed bumps at 45 mph.

"Your neck must be KILLING you, right sir?  Here's my card.  It's vinyl so the blood will wash right off."

Anyone?  Anyone?  Buehler?  Just kidding about the Scum-Sucking Lawyer thing, Mr. K.

My Quest for Inner Peace: The Sad Truth

I nearly had my day ruined by a man I have to work with and be nice to.  I've never laid eyes on the man, and never will.  I picture him as a sniveling, whiny creature who likes to meditate to clear his head, when a good solid dope-slap is all he's really lacking.

I am SO good to this man.  I go out of my way to be friendly, courteous, efficient, thorough, organized, and fast for his benefit.  All he does in return is look for things to nitpick about.  He annoys the snot out of me, but I never ever let on.

But when he sent an e-mail to my boss today and LIED HIS ASS OFF, saying that he'd tried to call FOUR TIMES today and gotten only a busy signal, I knew it was time to stop being annoyed by the man and turn things over to a higher power.

My higher power is Childishness.

Submit to Childishness, and you will have peace, my child.

Okay, so the first thing I did was stomp around a lot.  That got my boss's attention.  Once I had his attention, I threw in a little eye-rolling.  He understood and commiserated with me.  Hey, he agreed with me!  Okay, now I was in business.  I added some heavy sighing.  Good.  Next I stuck one hip way out, arms folded across the chest.  I felt SO much better!  Childishness is The Way.

But the momentary high I felt didn't last.  I had to do something more permanent.

Of course!  Why hadn't I thought of it before?  Name-calling!

I gave that snotty man a nickname, one that I plan to use whenever he calls the office.

The Turd Burglar.

"Turd Burglar, Line three!"

"Please call The Turd Burglar at your first convenience -- you don't want to keep The Turd Burglar waiting!"

Yes, I have made another pilgrimage to the Land of Childishness.  I'm sure I'll burn in some kind of hell, somewhere, but it feels GREAT.

The Problem With the Garden of Eden

I've been thinking about religion a lot lately.  Not resolving anything, just thinking about it.  And I've decided that part of the problem, for me, lies in the Bible's depiction of ideal situations.  For instance, Heaven has always been described as a cloudy place full of harp music and hugely impractical gold-paved streets.  This just isn't appealling to me.

 

Then there's the Garden of Eden.  We're supposed to look back on that time wistfully, but stop and imagine -- if the Garden of Eden had stuck around, there'd be:

• a lot of mailmen, garbage men, Wal-Mart greeters, roofers, and everybody else, working NAKED.  Think about it.  Rush Limbaugh, Howard Stern, Nancy Grace, Michael Moore, and you -- and me! -- would go about our business in the altogether.  This, of course, includes food service people.  Yeah, I know.
• no more butchers, pest control companies, health and emergency workers, lion tamers, crisis counselors, or Dr. Phil.  Important jobs would now be Farmer, Organic Produce Manager, and Snake Wrangler.  High school career day would be a real snore.
• no more Playboy magazine.  This isn't a problem for ME, but there are a lot of guys out there whose beds are several inches taller than ours because of Playboy.
• a run on sunscreen down at Rite-Aid.
• very few people willing to play professional hockey, so that's a bonus.
• MICHAEL MOORE WORKING NAKED, PEOPLE -- I CAN'T STRESS THIS ENOUGH!
• no more "Shark Week" on the Discovery Channel.  No more interesting carnivore footage PERIOD.  In fact, I don't know what those carnivores would eat, but if there's any more of that "lion lying down with the lamb" business, there'll be a lot of skinny hyenas and a buttload of rabbits running around.
• no great sales at Penneys, the Gap, or Filene's.  Would we be allowed to wear hats and scarves?  I think the John B. Stetson Company would want to know this.
• a whole new stigma for people with weak bladder syndrome -- it's not like you can hide the Depends when you're buck naked.
• no more apple pie.  I happen to love apple products of all kinds.  I also love lamb, but I think lambs would not lie anywhere near me if they knew that.

Careful what you wish for, I guess.