Tag Archives: Humor

Run! Hide! Fight!

Some tasks only seem Herculean at first glance.  Then they become impossible.  Take the one I got this morning.

“You gotta help me with this, Elyse,” said Robert, our Human Resources Manager.  “I spent the better part of a year editing and improving this, and still nobody will read it.”

“It’s our Employee Manual, Robert.  Of course nobody will read it.”

“But they need to read it,” he said.  “Otherwise the staff  won’t know when they’re breaking rules.”

I stared back at him blankly.  “I’ll see what I can do,” I said, thumbing through the four-inch binder for the first time myself.

“Give it some pizzazz, make is shoot off the page.  You know, Jazz it up!”

“Robert,” I said, holding up the tome, “this is the written equivalent of Muzak.  Elevator music.  It cannot be jazzed up!”

He looked so pitiful that I added, “I’ll see what I can do.”  Guilt gets me every time.

Robert left my office, and I plopped the Manual down on my desk and ignored it.  It was an impossible task.  So I clicked on the internets to gear myself up for drudge work.

And what to my wondering eyes should appear?  Someone else was working on their office manual and making recommendations!  Seriously!  I couldn’t believe my luck.  I knew that all I had to do was add this information to the front of the Manual and it would certainly capture everybody’s attention.  Yes, I can follow the lead of the City of Houston Mayor’s Office of Public Safety and Homeland Security!  That’s how I can jazz up our company manual.  I’ll include information on “Surviving an Active Shooter Event!” 


That
will certainly catch that unsuspecting new employee’s interest!

Whoo-hoo!  “I am so underpaid,” I thought.

Don’t you think this is a wise prep for life in today’s workplace?  Shouldn’t we all be trained to “Run.  Hide.  Fight”?  I don’t know about you, but “Duck and Cover” served me really well way back when.  And nothing at all happened to me then.  So clearly these Public Service Announcements work.

That’s all you need, isn’t it?  Isn’t it?

Or did I get that moral wrong?  I’m trying to remember what happened.  Let’s see.  Duck and Cover.  Duck and Cover.  Oh yeah.  That came out after the Soviet Union developed its first nuke!  When they could hit us with one too!  Me, I got my exposure to it during the Cuban Missile Crisis in October of 1962 when the threat of nuclear war was real.  Funny thing, though. Duck and Cover was actually way less effective than President Kennedy’s blockade.

And what has happened since?

Hmmm.  Let me think.  We and the Soviet Union (now Russia, in case you missed something) have been behaving ourselves, more or less.  Nuke-wise, anyway.  Because a nuclear war?  That’s unthinkable.  We all know that.

You know what else is unthinkable?  Random gun violence every day in America.  It is unthinkable that we have to worry every day that some crazy person is going to come into our offices, our schools and our movie theaters and start shooting.  And that others will defend their “freedom” to do so.

Just like governments have learned how to co-exist with nuclear weapons, we need to figure out how to get along with guns (because they, sadly, ain’t goin’ away) but without gun violence.  To me that means we need fewer guns, especially fewer of the sort that can shoot and kill lots of folks without much effort. But I am willing to compromise.

Because these other precautions?  They are closing the barn door after the horse has run out; and I for one am tired of beating that dead horse.

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Filed under Childhood Traumas, Criminal Activity, Elections, Family, Gun control, Health and Medicine, History, Humor, Hypocrisy, Law, Politics, Stupidity

Damn Straight

I just read that the Washington, DC, metropolitan area is tops!  As in Numero Uno.  Better than second and third place winners, Denver and Chicago.  We are the Champions!

 

In what category?  Swearing at work.

Shit, yeah!

Who says Washington can’t do anything right?

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Filed under Awards, Criminal Activity, Driving, Elections, Family, Global Warming, Gun control, Health and Medicine, Humor, Hypocrisy, Neighbors, Politics, Stupidity, Traffic, Word Press

Primal Scream

Post Traumatic Stress Disorder.  PTSD.

I have it.  Yup, it’s true.  And these days I can hear Lost In Space’s Robot saying “Warning!  Danger!”  And he’s talking to me.

What is it that sends me back, brings on the flashbacks, makes me scream “Nooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo”?  The Olympics.

I blame Mitt Romney.  I blame the Olympic Committee.  I blame the Raisin.

Yes.  The Raisin.  That is the name John and I gave Jacob’s teacher for 6th class (which is Swiss/British for 5th grade.  Go figure.)  It was a slight bastardization of her real name.  We gave it to her because we hated her and also because she was the cause of the “Trauma” in my PTSD.  And in our family, it was contagious.  All three of us had it.

It started on Back to School Night in September, 2001, when she told us her plan for the entire school year.  John and I exchanged skeptical glances when she told us that they would focus on the Olympics. She was a big sports fan and what do you know, that very winter, the Winter Olympics would be held!

It wasn’t my cuppa, but I figured that a few exercises around the Olympics might be interesting for the kids.  And after all, world HQ for the Olympics was just down the road in Lausanne, Switzerland.

Lausanne, Switzerland, Lake Geneva (Google Image)

But instead of a few things, though, everything the class did involved the Olympics.  Everything.  For the entire year.

Google Image

Learning about the human body?  Let’s learn that the leg bone is connected to the hip bone by looking at skiers’ physiques.

Learning about numbers?  Calculate and compare the speed of each winning downhill skier and divide it by some ratio or other.

Learning geography?  Make a diorama of the flags of the gold medal countries from the previous Olympics and your hopes for this one.

As the parent of a reluctant student, I had to try to convince my son, who had no real interest in things Olympian, to do one more assignment/task/project on The F’ing Olympics.  He hated it.  I hated it.  John hated it.  None of us thought it was interesting; none of the other kids in the class or their parents did either.  It made homework painful.  Boring.  Something to be avoided at all costs.  It made learning misery.

And after beating that dead horse for the entire school year 2001-2002, just realizing that the Olympics are coming makes me break out in a cold sweat.  I hope for a weeks-long power failure.  I stick my fingers in my ears and hum loudly whenever a commercial comes out about TV coverage.  I cry a lot.

There was more.  Much more, but I have, happily suppressed those memories.  The idea of trying to retrieve them makes me believe that there may be something to Primal Scream Therapy.

So if you’re posting on the Olympics over the next couple of weeks, that scream you’ll be hearing is mine.

Nooooooooooooooooooooo! (Google Image)

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Filed under Childhood Traumas, Criminal Activity, Family, Geneva Stories, Humor, Stupidity

You’re Nuts!

We’ve all seen them.  They seem to be on every commercial vehicle these days.

Google Image

But have you ever called one of those numbers?  Have you ever reported somebody?  I didn’t think so.

Recently, my son was stuck in traffic behind Truck No. 47.  So he called the number on the back of the truck.

“Hello, this is Nancy,” said the voice at the other end of the phone. “How can I help you.”  (She didn’t sound very happy to be getting this call, Jacob later said.)

“Hi,” Jacob said.  “I want to report Truck No. 47.”

“Yes sir,” said Nancy.  “What seems to be the problem?”

“Oh, I just wanted to let you know that the driver of Truck No. 47, well,  he’s doing a really great job.

“Excuse me, sir?”

“Yeah.  The driver of Truck No. 47 is a terrific driver.”

“Would you please hold for a moment sir?  I need to find a form to record this on.”

Meanwhile, traffic started moving again.

“You need to hold on, please.  Traffic is moving, and I have to pull over,” Jacob allegedly said to Nancy.  (I know, I don’t believe him, either.)

“Now, how long were you observing Truck No. 47, sir?”

“Oh, I’ve been following him for a while, all through Northern Virginia.  He’s amazing.  He stays on his side of the road, obeys the speed limits, always uses his turn signal.  Really, this guy is a model driver.”

“Ummm, thank you for calling to let us know, sir.”

“You’re welcome.  It’s just nice to see such a great driver on the road these days.”  Jacob hung up, smiling.

I am pretty sure that this qualifies as a random act of kindness.  It was definitely random.

Cool Kid, 1994

Today is Jacob’s 21st Birthday.  Happy Birthday, Jacob!

By telling this story, I just wanted to let you know, today, how very proud I am of this crazy man cub John and I raised.  Because you see, Jacob is one of the funniest, nuttiest people I have ever known.

It’s true.  Hey, Jacob?  You’re nuts! 😉   I couldn’t have found a sillier birthday song for you:

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Filed under Awards, Driving, Family, Humor, Traffic

You Heard it Here First

Someday, you guys will be considered pioneers.  The first know-it-alls.  The first to proclaim to the world that I am a sentient being.  (Or is it that I am a “senting” being in the sense that I can smell a rat?  Or maybe that I am a dog.  Whatever.)  You all will be among the first to realize that I am a genius.

Everyone else had forgotten her.  Put her out of their minds as she stayed strangely silent.  Unusually speechless.  Not at all noteworthy.  Or, perhaps she was just that tree that falls in the woods that nobody heard.

Huh?

She’s back ….

Google Image

Yup, Michele Bachmann is in the news again — saying inappropriate things about other people.

In the last couple of days, she’s said stuff that’s even gotten Speaker John Boehner, among others, trying to distance himself from her craziness.

Here’s a smidge of a write up from the SCTimes (that’s the St. Cloud Minnesota paper for those of you who aren’t up on all your acronyms):

Rep. Michele Bachmann had made fresh allegations of ties between an Islamist movement and Rep. Keith Ellison, even as Bachmann’s fellow Republicans increasingly condemn her calls to investigate the movement’s influence within the U.S. government.

In an interview with radio host Glenn Beck today, Bachmann said Ellison, the first Muslim elected to Congress, “has a long record of being associated with … the Muslim Brotherhood.”

This was, of course, after Michele also claimed that Secretary of State Hilary Clinton’s deputy chief of staff, Huma Abedin, was an infiltrator of the Muslim Brotherhood.

Does she have proof?  Of course not.  She doesn’t need proof.  She has faith!

But those meanies who are criticizing Michele, well, they don’t understand her like I do.   Those folks, like so many others, were not followers of FiftyFourAndAHalf back when I explained Michele’s problem to the world.  So they just don’t know Michele’s secret.  They don’t understand her the way I understand her.  And the way you understand her if you were one of the three people who had actually read my blog one year ago, when I explained just what happens to Michele Bachmann sometimes.

Sigh.

So here it is again.  There are of course some differences between now and then.  But please — don’t make me repeat this next summer.

From July 21, 2011 — I give you the explanation you’ve been waiting for.

TWINSIES

Me and Michele Bachmann are twinsies!  And gosh I’m excited to tell you about it.  Especially since I just learned it was true!  We share something truly special.  It’s the big story in today’s news!

Well, there are the regular, ordinary things we have in common.  We’re both women, we’re both interested in politics, and we both love to pledge allegiance to the flag!  What could be more fun at a slumber party?  What’s more, we both believe in and even PRACTICE marriage.  I would bet the interest on the national debt, though, that my husband isn’t gay.  Now that we’ve all met Michele’s, I don’t think many folks would bet that hers isn’t.  So she has lots of time for sleep-overs.

Anyway, the thing we both have most in common are migraines!  Did you read about hers?  Well I get them too!  And I can tell that they affect us both the same way.  So we all need to feel really bad that we’ve been so hard on her.  I know I do.  Because this diagnosis answers a lot of questions for me.

You see, when I get a migraine, I don’t hide in the dark under a pillow.  I don’t cringe in agony.  I don’t stay home from work, shirking all my responsibilities, waiting for time and pain to pass.

Nope.  I get stupid.

I wish I got “dumb” as in “mute.”  Then I wouldn’t look so, well, dumb.  But I don’t.   I talk even though I develop a really-not-funny-and-don’t-you-dare-laugh-at-me linguistic problem.  It’s called transient aphasia, and sometimes it comes instead of the headache.  The wrong word comes out of my mouth.  And the word that comes out isn’t even close to the one I meant to say.

For example, sometimes I tell my friends that I have a “microwave” when I’m trying to say I have a “migraine.”  They get confused.

Clearly, my new twinsie, Michele, has aphasia, too.  And since we share migraine symptoms — we’ll be BFFs!

Think about it – it must be true.  There are so many examples!  Like when she said that the first shot in the Revolutionary War was fired in “New Hampshire”?  She clearly knew that it was fired in Taxachussetts – she just had a migraine!  And you thought she was dumb.

Or when she was naming Founding Fathers, she knew that she wanted to just say “John Adams” but “Quincy” just jumped right there in the middle.  So everybody thought that she thought that John Quincy Adams was a Founding Father.  Of course she knew he was still a mere lad at the time of the Revolution, she just couldn’t say it right.  And you thought she didn’t know the names of the Founding Fathers.

And when she said that those same Founding Fathers fought tirelessly against slavery.

Clearly, she gets migraines like mine a lot.

Poor Michele.  Not everybody understands her.  Not everybody believes her.  Not everybody stops up their mouths to keep from laughing aloud when she speaks.

But I do.  Well, I do now.

So here is my pledge.  If my new BFF, Michele Bachmann, becomes President, I promise to have lots of sleep-overs at her house.  That way I’ll be sure to be with her when she acts all Commander-In-Chief-y, and needs to order the troops during a nuclear confrontation.  And when she needs to say

“STAND DOWN!”

I’ll make sure she doesn’t accidentally say

“FIRE!”

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Filed under Elections, Humor, Hypocrisy, Law, Politics, Stupidity