In Case You've Wondered

My blog is where my wandering thoughts are interspersed with stuff I made up. So, if while reading you find yourself confused about the context, don't feel alone. I get confused, too.

If you're here for the stories, I started another blog: scratchingforchange.blogspot.com

One other thing: sometimes I write words you refuse to use in front of children, or polite company, unless you have a flat tire, or hit your thumb with a hammer.

I don't use them to offend; I use them to embellish.

jescordwaineratgmail.com

Wednesday, November 25, 2015

Turkey Day

Tomorrow is Thanksgiving Day.

Now, I know some people get their panties in a knot over the holiday, since there's so much political garbage associated with how the nation started; but I really don't give a rodent's fanny about such things.

The United States is a miracle. If you throw all the crap away, and look at what it took to survive when the Pilgrims landed, our lives of energy through wires, and pipes; food for just about everyone with enough sense to find it; modern medicine; shelter from the elements; and the liberty that's more precious than many understand, there are few that understood what it took to survive in the beginning.

For those all butt-hurt about the holiday: Turn off your lights, shut down the heat, don't eat for the next 36 hours, and wallow in your self-righteous pity. You have much to be thankful for, and should celebrate your blessings. I'd rather tell you to blow out your ear, but I decided to be polite with this post.

Wednesday, November 18, 2015

Finger Crossing

I've worked many years next to traffic, and today I realized how much it's all about crossing my fingers some clown, texting or not paying attention, doesn't wander into the place I'm standing and turn me into worm food.

Bleh!

Tuesday, November 10, 2015

A Call to Aunt Rose

"Hello"

"Hi Aunt Rose. It's me, Todd."

"It's been awhile since I heard from you. Are you okay?"

"I'm fine, Aunt Rose. I was thinking about you, so I decided to call."

"I wish you had thought about me last month. Didn't your mother tell you I had knee surgery?"

"She did, but I was busy."

"Busy? I'm on the way to school. I had to hire a local kid to put out my garbage."

"Well, school is taking a lot of my time."

"I saw your  "lot of my time" on television. You were standing with all those students protesting about some kid getting his feelings hurt."

"This is important. The university President didn't handle the problem, when a student was called the "N" word."

"So, you weren't going to class because someone was called a bad name?"

"It's more than that. There's not enough diversity in the University of Missouri."

"Not enough diversity? What does that have to do with you? After all, your late Uncle Bill worked hard for all those years, left me some money, and told me on his death bed he wanted me to help you through college. His words were: "That boy can sure throw a football". Your mother said you didn't even try out for the team."

"I decided to become more involved with helping with important causes."

"It looks to me you're more involved with not going to school and standing around.....and what's the reason for chasing the reporters away? Isn't your major in communications?"

"It is, but..."

"Tell me how you can communicate, be in the media, or advertising, and you won't give anyone the time to speak their mind, or ask you questions?"

"Well......."

"And how can you finish school, if you spend more time standing around than studying?"

"But....."

"I don't think you understand how blessed you've been with me paying your tuition, and helping with your college."

"I don't...."

"Lord knows your mother worked too hard for too many years, just to keep food on the table, and a roof over your head."

"I can...."

"I think the only reason you called was to get more money, so you can play at life, and ignore your responsibilities. Hy-Vee is hiring baggers. I think you need to take some time in the real world, and learn how to appreciate how much you've been given."

***click***

"Aunt Rose?.....Aunt Rose!!!!"

Thursday, November 5, 2015

Projected Increases

I was listening to a news report on the radio, which stated the Postal Service is predicting a 10% increase in holiday mailings. My mind started wandering, and I had a few questions:

How do they come up with this data? Do they ask people with questions like: "As a percentage, what is your projected increase in mailings this Christmas?" If so, who do they ask? I know they didn't ask me, and I'm curious about whether any of my readers were asked.

If they didn't ask anyone, how much did they arrive with their data, and how much did it cost? I can see some bureaucrat trying to justify their salary - which is wasted on their daily internet surfing - and thinking: "I think we need to hire a consulting firm to determine if we need to increase our spending to cover the costs of increased mailings this holiday season." After that, they convince their supervisor, who is a bigger waste of tax dollars, and it's on. After all, if they spend too much, they'll just beg for more of the Chinese loan money to cover their asses. Of course, the consulting firm manufactures all the data, places it in a shiny Powerpoint presentation, and even the smartest Senator will be impressed.

So, I'm sitting here and wondering about the report, while thinking of what difference it really makes if the Postal Service is a little behind, and someone doesn't get a Christmas card, until after Christmas day. Will the world end? Of course not. Will someone's life be terribly affected if Aunt Martha's three armed sweater doesn't arrive until New Years? I doubt it.

So, once again, my thoughts are on another great mystery that has no answer. I know in my heart I'll never have the answer, so I'll place it in the file with my question on why fast food restaurant clerks can't remember I told them "to go" in the few seconds required to repeat my order. I guess these things are like black holes. They exist, but it will take some really patient scientist to convince me an entire star is compressed to the size of nothing.

Monday, November 2, 2015

Nonsense

Life is short
Time is real
So why does it all
Have to be uphill?