So you've probably noticed by now that one of my many neuroses revolves around the way people communicate information. By the time we're adults, we've garnered enough wisdom to place the proper context around whatever someone else meant to say. But if everything was taken literally as it was spoken, the world would probably spin out of control.
You can call me old-school, but I do believe that there is still value in stating things properly. At least a little effort should be there, right?
My head started spinning the other day when I was talking with another guy. We learned that we don't live far away from each other. He said, "If you look on a map, you could almost draw a straight line between our houses."
Not to be a stickler (but you know I will be)...technically, you can always draw a straight line between any two place on Earth on a map. That's the beautiful thing about a map. Where does the 'almost' component come in? Is it a crooked ruler? A case of the shakes? An earthquake?
Once my head gets into that mode, any additional pertinent information that follows in the conversation generally becomes a garbled mess of random sounds. To mask the inner noise, I think that I just nod thoughtfully and suffer silently in my own logic prison.
I sometimes wonder how many important things I've missed in life while I'm off in my own private Idaho trying to grasp what I just heard.
Then I saw a flyer posted at work telling me that I'd get to wear jeans on a non-jeans day if I donated a buck "To Benefit Alzheimer's" (sponsored by the same folks who brought 'Breast Awareness Month' into my life).
I was infuriated. My grandpa had Alzheimer's. It was really rough to watch him go through that. There's no way am I going to donate money to benefit that horrible affliction. Now if they wanted to solicit funds to combat the disease, I'd gladly throw in for the cause.
Newspaper headline writers don't always think things through, either. The other day, swear to God, I saw an article entitled, "Gay Lived Life with Hands Full." Ce qui, Monsieur?
It turns out that it wasn't a he, but a she. And it was an obituary. Couldn't they have spent just a couple of minutes, y'know, reading that aloud first?
In a society where janitors have evolved into sanitation engineers, it is somewhat suprising to scan the local want ads and find jobs that haven't been embellished to sound a little more appealing.
I'm wishing the best of luck to the company that is looking for a 'Certified De-boner.' Viagra addicts need not apply.
However, hopeful job-seekers might apply their talents to another local concern that is looking for a 'Load Shagger.' Gosh, I'd love to have that on my business card.
I applied. I think I have the right stuff.
At least I've been relatively blessed with good health lately. One woman was telling me how she had a herniated disc in her neck and was knocked flat for about 3 months a couple of years ago. As she explained it, it was quite difficult living a 'sedimentary' lifestyle.
I guess that means that it was a rocky recovery.
Have a happy MLK Day. Party on. But remember, always use a designated driver.
Marty gave a couple really famous speeches, so the banks and government took the day off in his honor. Yeah, that sounds about right.
There I go with the logic again.
