Many reports claim black families feel like they need to have a talk with their sons after the Karmelo Anthony guilty verdict. They should. White, brown, and purple parents need to have the talk too.
Murdering someone because they pushed you in an incident you provoked is not a proper response.
There, it is easy, and it has nothing to do with race.
I've been reading about the histronics from fired journalist Scott Pelley. Things may be different inside a newsroom (I doubt it), but the reported insuborination would get 99.999% of workers fired on the spot. When the boss says to do something, you might respectfully offer an alternative and then you go and do exactly what you are told to do.
Here is an example. I'd been in sales a good while. I was respected in my industry and considered an expert in a specific application. I was appointed a new boss to oversee my activities. He knew nothing about the industry.
He went on a series of sales calls with me and my largest customer was first on the list. We had discussed before the meeting the topics and agenda before we went in. I thought the visit went well. After we got back in the car he asked me how I thought it went. I told him it was a productive meeting. He agreed with me and then asked if I ever created a script and read from it during a sales call.
With great restraint I did not laugh in his face. "Did I miss somthing we should have discussed?"
"No."
"Did I not express myself clearly?"
"No, you were great. I was just bothered that you did not bring notes or take notes during the meeting."
"I learned in college that if I concentrated on note taking I wasn't listening, so I have learned to work that way. I usually make extensive notes after the meeting or later that day." I explained.
"I always read from a script."
I thought the idea was ridiculous, my customers would laugh me out of the place. Do you know what I did? After we got to the hotel and before the next day's customer visit I wrote out a script and laid it out on the table during our meeting and pretended to glance at it occasionally during our next sales call. I wrote down random notes during the meeting.
I never did it again unless he was with me because a script is for telemarketers and morons. But he was the boss and my mom didn't raise an idiot. I was convinced his did though.
What I DID NOT do was tell him he was ruining my reputation, he was an idiot, that he was unqualified to be my boss. I did not go off on a rant about the stupidity of the management that put him in charge. That would have gotten me fired. Instead i started looking for another job.
Scott Pelley did those things. He was fired and rightly so.
As I poured a bowl of cereal this morning I had a three decade flashback to me telling my son "You can't just eat the Charms, you have to eat the Luckies too."
Much older me realizes this sentiment pretty much sums up life.
In Indianapolis, June 8 has the highest probability of rain of any single day of the year, with a historical 42% chance of a wet day. [1]
I don't say it's true, the internet does, and the internet is always right. In any case there is high probability it will rain today.
Shopping for a present was easy, she picked out an outfit. She came home with the bag and said "You can give me this for my birthday."
Okay. I'm good with that.
I will go get her a card. I might make her a cake at lunch.
Anyway, it's my girl's birthday and if she wasn't born I wouldn't be, well, me. I wouldn't have my kids or grandkids and my bank account would be full and my life empty.
An old friend sent me some fair and honest reviews of my two efforts at novel writing.
He says Hoosier Flats is a better story, it has the twists and cliffhangers that keep you reading. Suburban Moon is better writing. The prose is stronger and more complex.
Sububurban Moon needs some strong editing (both books do); there are some redundancies that need to be cut. There is no "twist" until late in the book, and it is rather weak. There are some very strong scenes however.
Hoosier Flats reads like three short stories linked together. He says it works, but can be jarring or confusing for a few pages. He liked each part or era for different reasons. He said the first section is a coming of age/crime drama, the second part feels like a post-war movie plot, and the third section reads almost like a western (in theme, not locale).
My friend thought the double timeliness in Suburban Moon offered great contrast and each showed a different side of a unique character.
In all, he said the books are not bad for an amateur effort.
I'm sure if you suffered through the books you would agree this is a fair assessment.
Soldiers, Sailors, and Airmen of the Allied Expeditionary Force! You are about to embark upon the Great Crusade, toward which we have striven these many months... We will accept nothing less than full victory! Good luck! And let us all beseech the blessing of Almighty God upon this great and noble undertaking."
Yesterday I had a great post idea. It was my thought to write it this morning.
Yeah. I have no clue what I was going to tell you. Nothing, zip, nada.
If something occurs to me I'll write it down. Check back later and often.
Let me say from the start I love animals. Growing up we had a veritable menagerie; dogs, cats, guinea pigs, birds, turtles, goldfish, a chipmunk, chickens, ducks, even frogs as house pets. In the house. For most of my teen years my dog slept with me. I like animals and they generally like me.
I don't like animals in stores or restaurants. Animals are dirty. I wouldn't want you standing barefoot in my grocery cart and your hairy, shedding dog's feet are even dirtier. You do not need to take your pet to the hardware store nor the department store nor a restaurant.
I'm not talking about legitimate service dags. You know what I am referencing.
I saw a twenty-something toting around a cat in a baby carrier at Meijer last week. Give me a break. Emotional support cat? Your cat doesn't even like you. And it sure does not want to be cuddled in the canned goods aisle.
If you are so emotionally needy you can't go into public without your dog, cat, monkey, turkey, snake, whatever, then get some counseling. I'm serious. If you cannot separate from your pet to leave the house, then order your food and groceries delivered. Have Amazon bring it. If society is too daunting without clutching something furry, buy a little stuffed animal to hold on to like a three year-old.
So many of the jerks who dragged their dog of every size to Lowes when I toiled there were of the "Look at me" narcissist type. Your pug doesn't need to help you choose a new appliance. Your beagle has no opinion on 2x4s, and your Great Dane cannot help you pick out a new grill. If your poodle needs exercise, then go to a dog park, or a jount around the neighborhood. Yeah, it is cold or raining - welcome to pet ownership.
We were at the flower store last week and an old lady asked us for help when she couldn't get her pot onto the counter. The wife gave her a hand. The old lady couldn't handle her stuff because one hand was holding a leash attached to a little dog. There was no reason to bring her little yapper to the garden center.
You may disagree. You are wrong.
I don't know why I'm up just before 5 aye em, but I am. We got beaucoup rain yesterday, but things look better for the next week or so. I hope so, my humidor is calling me.
Yesterday morning I put out my American flag and then I dragged out the smoker. I drove down to the grocery. I threw the stuff for a perfect Memorial Day dinner in the cart.
Around noon I got things started. By supper time it was all ready; pulled pork (from a small pork shoulder), baked beans, cheesy potato casserole, and corn on the cob I cooked in the husk on the grill. Sunday we picked up some strawberries from the farmers market and we had strawberries on pound cake for desert after I washed up the dishes.
The wife has a "summer" wreath on the front door. As I walked up on the porch I saw a bird dart from behind it with a flutter. Sure enough, there was a nest. I grabbed so gloves and pulled it out. Then I saw movement and the remains of little blue shells.
Crap.
I carefully put the nest back behind the wreath. I told the wife to be carefull going out the front door. We will shake the door before opening it so the stupid bird does not fly into the house.
Birds, bunnies, chipmunks, squirrels, racoons, foxes, and coyotes -- the 'burbs are teeming with nature. And that is just my tiny portion.
No, Alice Cooper is not going to growl out his hit tune, but school is out for the summer. The oldest granddaughter is moving to middle school and had some friends over for a slumber party. As a consolation prize the youngest came to spend the night.
Luckily she views it as a good thing to come o er and is overjoyed to get all of the attention. We went to her favorite restaurant for dinner (The Old Spaghetti Factory) and then came home and watched a movie.
Life is good
So I was at the grocery grabbing stuff for supper, I did not have a lot of stuff but I did have 5 pounds of potatoes and a gallon of milk plus some other things, so I selected a cart instead of a little carry basket,
I grabbed my stuff and went to an open self check-out line. I paid and as I gathered up my bags I placed them and the milk and potatoes in my cart to push it back to the lobby. At that time a middle-aged woman came up behind me.
"Hey you," she said in a snotty tone, "Are you just going to just walk off and leave your basket?"
I turned and she was pointing at a hand basket someone had left next to the checkout.
WTH?
I gave her my best look of disdain. "Clearly, I have a cart, it is not mine," I silently added you f-ing busy-body self-important Karen. I resisted to urge to flip off this haridan and left the store.
I bet she is a real joy to her kids and husband, if she has either.
See, I am getting more mature and easy to get along with in my old age. I avoided an easy confrontation with a real bitch.
