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 |   Tales from real life |
| Well, if they're not true, they oughta be! |
| It seems as though these will never stop . . . Twice Fooled by Seamus L. Miner Low Energy by Millie Watts How to Make Graffiti Art by Mark D. Wahls The Least Infraction by Juan D. Merritt Doubling Down on Dames by Phil Anders Decoding Music by C. D. Player A Guide to Compelling Prose by Paige Turner End of Days by Sonny Downes Rockin' the Boat by Dory Lister Open Fire Cuisine by Rose Tina Chestnut Effeminate Males by Nancy Boyce Basic Coin Tricks by Penny Palmer See also: "Continuing With a Theme"  See also: "Even More Books I'd Like to See" |
Raising kids is both challenging and rewarding. An amusing part of watching them grow up is when they 'discover' things that you'd almost forgotten. Lately, I've been seeing a lot of articles in the newsfeed about 'quiet quitting'. The Millenials seem to think this is a new phenomenon, but it certainly isn't new to me. It isn't even new to Gen-X. The Simpsons brought us this quote from Homer in 1995, "Lisa, if you don't like your job you don't strike, you just go in every day and do it really half-assed - that's the American way." When I began my career in the Aerospace industry, I was awed by the sheer size of the products and the machinery that made them. The first few weeks, I stood out like a tourist in New York City gawking at the tall buildings. As I walked through the factory one day, a guy grinned at me and said, "Well, I see they issued you your Boeing gloves." I actually looked down before laughing as I realized that my hands were in my pockets. No wonder the place was known as the Lazy B! I met many hard-working people who put in long hours to make the company a success. I also met a few slackers who made a career out of wearing their Boeing gloves. In my later years, I learned an even better term for what's now being called quiet quitting: retired in place (or simply RIP). This term describes someone who's given up after being in the same position for twenty years without a promotion. They often have little going on for them at home and use work as a social outlet. They chat, drink coffee, surf the web, and occasionally do a little work to alleviate the boredom. But half-assing it isn't just a work thing. I knew a lot of guys who started doing the bare minimum in kindergarten. We called them football players. But seriously, the upper classes have been passed through university without effort for hundreds of years. Those born to wealth and privilege can receive 'the gentleman's C' in lieu of merit. But that C isn't a mark of shame, even the barely literate can hang an Ivy League degree and go on to achieve great things. And, once the degree is in hand, you merely file a lawsuit to prevent public disclosure of your embarrassing grades. As an infamous con man says, you don't have to be a genius to lie about your IQ. Half-assing it has been around since the first gatherer said, "You guys go ahead and hunt, I'll hang back and try these roots and berries." In biblical times, Jesus told the parable of the workers in the vineyard (John 20: 1-16). Some workers came in the morning and some in the afternoon, but they all got the same wage. The moral of the story? You can put in a lot of hours and try to impress the boss, or you can do the bare minimum and just scrape by. In the end, it all pays the same. |
See polydactyl kitten tracks wide paw-prints in the snow, count left to right and total up four feet with extra toes. Five claws apiece show in the back and six in frontal view. Ten digits aft, a dozen fore add up to twenty-two. Author's note: ▼ |
I Only Think I Love You I never meant to hurt you "I need some space right now." I want to hold you in my arms "You don't need me anyhow." I wish you'd stay and hold me "Take all the space you need." I know that we could work it out "Don't you worry over me." Please tell me that you want to stay "You don't even want to try." Just ask me not to leave you now "Then I guess this is goodbye." author's note ▼ |
Messieurs, Mesdames, and motley fools, to whom it may concern, it's time to set aside the scythe and take a different turn. No more creepy, weepy, reaping, an end to snuffing wicks, the thousand million swan songs sung along the river Styx. Goodbye ye dimmed, ye doomed and damned, those pure of heart and true, my tenure terminates tonight, I bid you all adieu. Love and kisses, The Grim Reaper author's note ▼ |
Dig Those Clams βItβs watches out,β the walrus cried, βor youβll trip among the dunes. Beat down the sand with happy soles, keep time with merry tunes.β They danced beneath a clam-bake sun, through the hot-sauce afternoon, until their numbers all ran out. How did it get so late so soon? 8 lines of nonsense poesy (with apologies to Lewis Carroll) An entry for The Not-So-Daily Poem Must use this quote from Dr. Seuss: How did it get so late so soon? May not use: tick, tock, minute(s), hour(s), year(s), or birthday. |
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