I confess. I have once upon a time been busted. It was a long time ago. Continue reading “My first bust and power play”
I was recently challenged by a ?friend? to think of something my mother gave me, besides love,laundry and lunch. An object. Something tangible. And to write a paragraph about it. This ?friend? (you know who you are Annie) said she was giving this assignment only to her scholarly friends, but was giving it to me anyway: to write about what my mother gave me. Continue reading “What my mother gave me, besides …”
Yes, this piece is all over the internet. But sometimes an item that is especially pithy comes along that you want to make darn sure you have it forever. This is one of them.
“SIX LESSONS OF LIFE”
Lesson 1: Naked Wife
A man is getting into the shower just as his wife is finishing up her shower when the doorbell rings. The wife quickly wraps herself in a towel and runs downstairs. When she opens the door, there stands Bob, the next door neighbor. Before she says a word, Bob says, “I’ll give you $800 to drop that towel.” After thinking for a moment, the woman drops her towel and stands naked in front of Bob.
After a few seconds, Bob hands her $800 dollars and leaves. The woman wraps back up in the towel and goes back upstairs. When she gets to the bathroom, her husband asks,…
“Who was that?” “It was Bob the next door neighbor,” she replies. “Great!” the husband says, “Did he say anything about the $800 he owes me?”
Moral of the story:
If you share critical information pertaining to credit and risk with your shareholders in time, you may be in a position to prevent avoidable exposure.
A sales rep, an administration clerk, and the manager are walking to lunch when they find an antique oil lamp. They rub it and a Genie comes out. The Genie says, “I’ll give each of you just one wish” “Me first! Me first!” says the administration clerk. “I want to be in the Bahamas, driving a speedboat, without a care in the world.” Poof! She’s gone. “Me next! Me next!” says the sales rep. “I want to be in Hawaii,relaxing on the beach with my personal masseuse, an endless supply of Pina Coladas and the love of my life.” Poof! He’s gone. “OK, you’re up,” the Genie says to the manager. The manager says, “I want those two back in the office after lunch.”
Moral of the story: Always let your boss have the first say
A priest offered a lift to a Nun. She got in and crossed her legs, forcing her gown to reveal a leg. The priest nearly had an accident. After controlling the car, he stealthily slid his hand up her leg. The nun said,”Father, remember Psalm 129?” The priest removed his hand. But,changing gears, he let his hand slide up her leg again. The nun once again said, “Father, remember Psalm 129?” The priest apologized “Sorry sister but the flesh is weak.” Arriving at the convent, the nun went on her way. On his arrival at the church, the priest rushed to look up Psalm 129. It said, “Go forth and seek, further up, you will find glory.”
Moral of the story: If you are not well informed in your job, you might miss a great opportunity
A crow was sitting on a tree, doing nothing all day. A rabbit asked him,”Can I also sit like you and do nothing all day long?” The crow answered: “Sure, why not.” So, the rabbit sat on the ground below the crow, and rested.
…A fox jumped on the rabbit and ate it.
Moral of the story: To be sitting and doing nothing, you must be sitting very high up
“Lesson 5: Power of Charisma”
A turkey was chatting with a bull “I would love to be able to get to the top of that tree,” sighed the turkey, but I haven’t got the energy.” “Well, why don’t you nibble on my droppings?” replied the bull. “They’re packed with nutrients.” The turkey pecked at a lump of dung and found that it gave him enough strength to reach the lowest branch of the tree. The next day, after eating some more dung, he reached the second branch. Finally after a fourth night, there he was proudly perched at the top of the tree. Soon he was spotted by a farmer, who shot the turkey out of the tree.
Moral of the story: Bullshit might get you to the top, but it wont keep you there
A little bird was flying south for the winter. It was so cold the bird froze and fell to the ground into a large field. While he was lying there, a cow came by and dropped some dung on him. As the frozen bird lay there in the pile of cow dung, he began to realize how warm he was. The dung was actually thawing him out! He lay there all warm and happy, and soon began to sing for joy. A passing cat heard the bird singing and came to investigate. Following the sound, the cat discovered the bird under the pile of cow dung, and promptly dug him out and ate him.
Moral of the story:
1. Not everyone who shits on you is your enemy
2. Not everyone who gets you out of shit is your friend
3. And when you’re in deep shit, it’s best to keep your mouth shut !
– Jay Sedhani
I recently saw a photo of the USS John F. Kennedy (CV-67, formerly CVA-67) coming into the pier in Malta and was reminded of an instance on the USS Kitty Hawk (CVA-63). Incidentally, the J.F.K. is the last of the Kitty Hawk class of carriers and the last of the conventionally-powered (i.e. oil-fired) carriers. Continue reading “Aircraft carriers docking at piers”
Places come and go. People pass through your life. You hang out at various places with a variety of people on your journey. Memories of the instant impressions of those places and people come and go. Sometimes they linger and some of them, occasionally, linger a long while. Continue reading “Fond farewell to Atwoods”
There are places, times of the year, events, activities, family, friends, and a limitless array of life influences that can put a smile on your face. When all of those converge at a point in time a person knows that all is well with the world for the moment regardless of what else may happen. Continue reading “Falling on leaves”
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Excellence is good — it makes you feel better about everything. The “Bike MS” movement is one of excellence.
If you are having difficulty visualizing 13,000 cyclists, so was I. I am not certain that I have fully absorbed the full import of that flowing sea of colorful jerseys wrapping bodies of people willing to impale themselves upon skinny bicycle saddles and crank pedals for what sometimes feels like an eternity. It was the 2011 BP MS 150 and I was there for my first attempt at riding 100 miles in one day, followed by 78 miles the second day. Many photo thumbnails follow. Click to enlarge. Continue reading “Just another ride … with 13,000 friends”
(Post-ride blog here) This weekend, April 16-17. My first ride in the event, and my first genuine “Century Ride” (100 miles) followed by the remaining 78 miles from LaGrange into Austin for the finish on Sunday. I will be riding for Liesl, Susan and Bill. If you have a friend or family with MS and would like to add their name, just post a comment and that person will be added to my list. Continue reading “The BP MS 150 is coming . . . SOON!”
All of which brings me to a question: Why do so many of us not only permit our teenage daughters to dress like this—like prostitutes, if we’re being honest with ourselves—but pay for them to do it with our AmEx cards?
After you answer that question — and good luck with that one — tell me/us why the attire you see on both sexes of all ages no longer, in far too many instances, is appropriate to the place or occasion? Let’s take an example near and dear to my heart. (after you ponder the following, go back and read the entire article — interesting)
Once upon a time in a galaxy far, far away (isn’t that how all good stories are supposed to begin?) there was a judge conducting jury selection in a case somewhere in Texas. Moments after one of the prospects asked to approach the bench, the unsuspecting judge was rocked back on his heels. Well, back in his over-stuffed chair anyway.
There “it” was. Marching down the aisle between the two sections of seating, coming to share dark secrets with hiz honor, was this nattily attired person. Nattily attired if attending a beach blanket bingo party, that is.
Resplendent in his tank-top, shorts and 88 cent shower shoes (not even the courtesy of Birckenstocks), he sauntered right down for some conversation. The conversation was short. Once the startled judge got his heart restarted, his tongue out of the back of his throat and his gizzard to pumping again, he simply said “your attire, sir, is inappropriate for court and you may be excused and will appear on another day.”
The real trouble began later when I published (yes, I was that judge) my now-infamous Court Dress Code. Clean and pressed jeans were allowed — after all, we’re (thankfully) in the “sticks.” A jacket was preferred for men, but not required. I think it was the requirement that men wear a tie that garnered the most attention. Yes, I know it was. Without any doubt.
I say “trouble” only if one considers it to be a problem to be accosted at the Horseshoe Bay “500 of your closest friends” parties by every single male who either had gotten a jury summons or feared the very prospect now that the draconian dress code was in the wind. “I’m not wearing a damn tie to your court or any other” was the frequent greeting, to which I silently pondered “how will this play in (federal) Judge Sam Sparks court?”
Not to worry. I had the solution. I just knew that a rent-a-tie business could nicely add to my eventual retirement. Not really, of course, but I did garner a nice collection contributed by guys who obviously had not cleaned out their closets since pre-1980’s. Everyone’s favorite was the “fish tie.” If you turned the tie horizontally the tip was a fish-head and for a tie-tack … you guessed it, a huge faux gold-plated fish hook.
That dress code came and went. Another took its place and has remained for many years with moderate success punctuated occasionally by some hapless soul who gets his ticket punched to return another day.
But here I have digressed. The question was, and is: why do so many people seem clueless about attire appropriate to the occasion and place? The court is but one place, but one would think that almost anyone knows that the courthouse, with the potential to get on a jury looming high on their horizon, requires a certain degree of decorum and solemnity. It has been suggested that dressing down is a ploy to avoid being picked. Maybe, but I don’t think so.
So answer me. Why?
- In Wake Of Texas Gang Rape, Florida Lawmaker Proposes School Dress Code Legislation (sleepingbeautyslavery.wordpress.com)
- Job Interview Dress Code: What Should You Wear? (brighthub.com)
- Blackhat, Defcon, and BSidesLV Party Venue Dress Codes (andrewhay.ca)
If you don’t follow that math, it’s understandable. But if you take a geezer-squad of three guys 67 years young (two of them precisely that age) and one of 74 years, and put them on bicycles out to prove nothing, you get: an 83 mile ride in the beautiful hill country of Texas. Actually, Don Bynum (the effervescent organizer of epic rides and teller of tall tales) thinks he is in my Will and is trying to kill me, or, he is my training coach for the upcoming MS-150 ride (Houston to Austin) in mid-April. By the way, for anyone who might be reading this and is not familiar with the hill country here, check out the National Geographic “Road Trip” Hill Country, Texas.” Continue reading “(67 x 3) + 74 = 83”