Someday....someday......
10) No sir, I’m not new. I’ve been with this company far longer than you have.
9) I’m not sure sir let me check. "HEY ANYBODY KNOW, AM I SOME KIND OF AN IDIOT”?
8) I can think of 3 reasons why you didn’t get any of the communications we sent you.
a) You’re to dumb to turn your computer on
b) You didn’t pay your phone bill either
c) You’ve talked to the postman the same way you’re talking to me
7) Ma’am you raise a good point. At your recommendation I am going to submit a request to my manager for a hearing test. I just might be deaf.
6) Would you like some cheese with that whine?
5) Well yes sir, it does make sense to me but then I was blessed with the ability to understand even the simplest concept.
4) Hmm… Can I tell you anyone who would buy a brand new luxury vehicle and not protect it with comprehensive and collision coverage? Well…................. let’s see................There’s....YOU!
3) So your contention is that anyone with half-a-brain would not have cancelled their policy. Okay...........I better speak slowly.
2) Well sir, we had no choice. We had to charge it as an at fault accident. The evidence we gathered was compelling. All the other trees agreed. The tree you hit was parked at the side of the road minding its own business.
And the Number 1 thing I’d like to say to a customer.........
I know the ******* company canceled your ******** policy and left you high and dry without any ******* coverage on your ******* brand new ******* vehicle.
But you ignored every ******* letter, every ******* email, and every ******* phone call for the past four ******* weeks.
Perhaps, if you were a little more ******* responsible, you could’ve gotten up off your ******* lazy ******* *** and paid the ******* bill on ******* time for a change so we wouldn’t have had to ******* notify the state on your sorry *** and cancel your ******* policy!
Is there anythingelse I can help you with today?
Thank you for calling.
These are, after all, the musings of a mind that wanders.
Showing posts with label Humor. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Humor. Show all posts
Thursday, May 15, 2008
Thursday, April 26, 2007
Turf Wars
My home has become a battle zone. There are, to my surprise, territorial boundaries in my house that I was neither consulted on nor notified as to their existence. Apparently unpleastantries have been exchanged for quite some time and diplomacy has not done much to disengage the parties. A fragile peace was attained through the appropriate diplomatic channels but the relationship is currently spiraling out of control. I have been told there have been border skirmishes in the past but today I witnessed a brutal hostage taking. It was short-lived but it did open my eyes to the hostilities that have been brewing in my household.
Let me give you the facts as I know them.
It seems there are two planes in my house, one below the knees and one above the knees. They are in fact parallel universes and the inhabitants have free reign to travel each in their own “land” but never should they cross boundaries as this would be perceived as a hostile act. Retaliation should and would be swift and sure.
The inhabitants of the land below the knees are free to inhabit any horizontal surface below the knees. The dominant life form in the land is canine( I have heard of some that are predominately feline. That would be dangerous here). They may move laterally in any direction but may not move vertically except on rare occasion when receiving dignitaries who are carrying gifts from a foreign head of state, preferably one of the biscuit varieties.
The inhabitants of the land above the knees are free to inhabit any horizontal surface and may on occasion suspend itself from any vertical surface as long as it does so above the knees. There are many different inhabitants in the land above the knees and the dominant species appears to be toilet paper. Towels have been known to posture some but toilet paper appears to draw the most attention and garner more concern from rival below the knee inhabitants.
Now at any one time I have two dogs, Gizmo and Hershey, who have gladly inherited the land below the knees. They happily co-exist wanting only for manna from above twice a day and clean, clear water. At the same time, in the land above the knees, there may be as many as twenty rolls of toilet paper. I must confess I am not as familiar with the inhabitants above the knee as I should be as I do not know their names. They generally sit around either unable or unwilling to cause any trouble. They are a very peaceful lot.
To make a long story short, apparently an inhabitant from above the knees was caught looking down on Gizmo who, on a good day, is rather excitable and tends to assume things to be when they are not. Gizmo being rather proud did not appreciate the manner in which the toilet paper roll was looking at him and said as much to Hershey. Hershey rolled her eyes and suggested Gizmo look for a stuffed animal to “vent” on and ignore the toilet paper as they really have nothing else to do but look down on dogs. She tried to explain that it was just their lot in life and that Gizmo should pay them no mind.
One thing you can say about Gizmo, he is both focused and persistent…sometimes to a fault. He couldn’t let it go. After all wasn’t this HIS land? Wasn’t he a DOG? What could have gotten into a lowly roll of toilet paper that could possibly make it think it was okay to look down on him…and in such a manner? He reasoned that to allow such a thing would be to invite anarchy and, in doing so, the appearance of weakness. That could not happen.
Now I don’t know all the particulars. I suspect that Gizmo, being an enterprising dweller below the knees, had snuck into the land above the knees and kidnapped one of its citizens, and not just any citizen, it was the toilet paper roll.
A fight ensued. Gizmo grabbed the roll by the collar and dragged it across the room attempting to flip it in the air. Just then the roll escaped. Flying through the air and throwing itself on Gizmo hoping to knock him unconscious. The fight continued back and forth for several minutes stopping only after each combatant, tattered and tired were forced to separate and able to retreat each to their own land.
It‘s calm now, an uneasy peace. But it is at least peace. How long it will last I do not know. Each side has shared a portion of victory and each a portion of defeat. As for me, I hold on to the hope that such outbursts will not continue. Only time will tell.
I have become aware however, that there is one roll of toilet paper that’s got itself an attitude and I don’t feel very comfortable with the way it looking at me.
These are, after all, the musings of a mind that wanders.
Let me give you the facts as I know them.
It seems there are two planes in my house, one below the knees and one above the knees. They are in fact parallel universes and the inhabitants have free reign to travel each in their own “land” but never should they cross boundaries as this would be perceived as a hostile act. Retaliation should and would be swift and sure.
The inhabitants of the land below the knees are free to inhabit any horizontal surface below the knees. The dominant life form in the land is canine( I have heard of some that are predominately feline. That would be dangerous here). They may move laterally in any direction but may not move vertically except on rare occasion when receiving dignitaries who are carrying gifts from a foreign head of state, preferably one of the biscuit varieties.
The inhabitants of the land above the knees are free to inhabit any horizontal surface and may on occasion suspend itself from any vertical surface as long as it does so above the knees. There are many different inhabitants in the land above the knees and the dominant species appears to be toilet paper. Towels have been known to posture some but toilet paper appears to draw the most attention and garner more concern from rival below the knee inhabitants.
Now at any one time I have two dogs, Gizmo and Hershey, who have gladly inherited the land below the knees. They happily co-exist wanting only for manna from above twice a day and clean, clear water. At the same time, in the land above the knees, there may be as many as twenty rolls of toilet paper. I must confess I am not as familiar with the inhabitants above the knee as I should be as I do not know their names. They generally sit around either unable or unwilling to cause any trouble. They are a very peaceful lot.
To make a long story short, apparently an inhabitant from above the knees was caught looking down on Gizmo who, on a good day, is rather excitable and tends to assume things to be when they are not. Gizmo being rather proud did not appreciate the manner in which the toilet paper roll was looking at him and said as much to Hershey. Hershey rolled her eyes and suggested Gizmo look for a stuffed animal to “vent” on and ignore the toilet paper as they really have nothing else to do but look down on dogs. She tried to explain that it was just their lot in life and that Gizmo should pay them no mind.
One thing you can say about Gizmo, he is both focused and persistent…sometimes to a fault. He couldn’t let it go. After all wasn’t this HIS land? Wasn’t he a DOG? What could have gotten into a lowly roll of toilet paper that could possibly make it think it was okay to look down on him…and in such a manner? He reasoned that to allow such a thing would be to invite anarchy and, in doing so, the appearance of weakness. That could not happen.
Now I don’t know all the particulars. I suspect that Gizmo, being an enterprising dweller below the knees, had snuck into the land above the knees and kidnapped one of its citizens, and not just any citizen, it was the toilet paper roll.
A fight ensued. Gizmo grabbed the roll by the collar and dragged it across the room attempting to flip it in the air. Just then the roll escaped. Flying through the air and throwing itself on Gizmo hoping to knock him unconscious. The fight continued back and forth for several minutes stopping only after each combatant, tattered and tired were forced to separate and able to retreat each to their own land.
It‘s calm now, an uneasy peace. But it is at least peace. How long it will last I do not know. Each side has shared a portion of victory and each a portion of defeat. As for me, I hold on to the hope that such outbursts will not continue. Only time will tell.
I have become aware however, that there is one roll of toilet paper that’s got itself an attitude and I don’t feel very comfortable with the way it looking at me.
These are, after all, the musings of a mind that wanders.
Wednesday, April 11, 2007
I have 4 children. They are older now. In their teens and 20's. I think back to each of their births and remember them as all children must be remembered by a parent. Innocent, fresh, wide-eyed and curious. It is a journey. From the earliest startling discovery, an infants eyes open wide its body shutters and his mouth draws open as the applesauce moves around his mouth (as if to say, "whoa, what was that) to the quiet painful resignation that some times...life just hurts.
But its the in between I'm drawn to. The first step, the first word.... (both a parents delight), the exuberance of the first bike and riding all by themselves, the first trip to the zoo, the first day at school. I remember when my oldest, now almost 25, came home from school. His mother and I were divorced (an unfortunate part of his reality). I picked him up from the babysitters. He was chattering on about school, his friends, his bike....his life. Sitting in the front seat of the car, his back against the door, he was speedily recounting the day. I was taken with the simplicity of his life yet the pure joy he felt in sharing it. He didn't want me to simply know what had happened. He wanted me to FEEL it. And I could. I believe he relished his position as the older brother but even today would never admit it. I miss him...I really do. He is a very special child and when he finds himself, will do great things.
His 2 younger brothers, one a care-taker whose job it had been to make sure everyone had a pillow and blanket at nap time before he could get one himself, the other a perfectionist who climbed into bed by sitting on his pillow and scooching down because the lines on his blanket had to be straight, were not much different. They recounted their day in much the same way, discovering much the same things. There was A difference. While I was regaled with the news of the day, I was not the intended audience. It was okay for me to hear and it was expected that I listen, but their older brother was the real object of their exuberance. They could not wait to tell him about their first time riding a bike, just like him. They had been there for his first soccer game and now they wanted him to know about theirs. One thing did remain the same. It didn't matter who was the audience, you couldn't just know the facts, you had to resonate in their joy. I can not imagine life without them. The world will be a better place because they are it.
And then a daughter. A frightful proposition for a dad. Uncharted water. Shes a funny girl. A bright and sunny disposition always cheerful always on about something. A talker...and an expressive one at that. She had her firsts too and once again I was the intended audience. I vividly remember her first day at school. She had been there when I took the boys to their first day and tried to help soothe the separation anxiety and wipe the tears from their faces and, unbeknown st to me, she had learned the routine. She was excited to just get dressed for school. As she walked in to class she was introduced to the teacher who showed her what to do with her things. From that moment, the teacher had competition. It was a race to the door to see who would greet the children first, show them where to put their stuff and then tour them around the room. The teacher says they came to an understanding. It was teachers job to greet the children, my daughter could show them where to put their stuff and walk them around the room. As I left it was I who was feeling the separation anxiety and even a wink from the teacher who quietly mouthed the words, "she'll be okay" couldn't wipe away my tears. When she got home she had a full sail of new life events to tell me about. We were long past painting my fingernails and toenails or every size, color or shape of hair clips used as she was "doing my hair". Her daily tails were different. The were about events, yes.. but more about the people around those events and for me that was very hard to keep up with. I know this for sure....There is more color in the world with her in it and one day the world will take notice.
As I reflect on their past I naturally must reflect on my own. It saddens me a bit. Its not that I don't remember the exuberance, I do. I miss it. I'm not sure when it happened... but somewhere along the way the reigns of pure joy and excitement slipped from my hands and I had picked the club of responsibility. I no longer relished the fun of rolling around a mud puddle, I was to busy trying not to have to clean it up. I was no longer a seven year old boy, clothes thrown aside, climbing a tree as a member of the Bare Naked Club. I was too busy figuring the deductible owed on my health insurance policy just in case someone got hurt or searching for that very tree I climbed to picket it as a site of unspeakable unmentionables.
Boys climbing a tree naked indeed!!!
When did it happen? When did we stop trying to swing as high as we could and then jump when we got there? I long to think about what could be and not dwell on why they weren't. I have sadly lost the joy of living and replaced it with the pain and, worse than that, I risk doing the same to my kids. I don't want to do that. Its time I started pay attention to the little things and ignoring the big ones. After all isn't that where God resides??
Starting today, I will take the advice of that esteemed psuedopsychologist, Sidney Freeman who said:
"Sometimes you gotta pull down your pants and slide on the ice"
These are, after all, the musings of a mind that wanders.
But its the in between I'm drawn to. The first step, the first word.... (both a parents delight), the exuberance of the first bike and riding all by themselves, the first trip to the zoo, the first day at school. I remember when my oldest, now almost 25, came home from school. His mother and I were divorced (an unfortunate part of his reality). I picked him up from the babysitters. He was chattering on about school, his friends, his bike....his life. Sitting in the front seat of the car, his back against the door, he was speedily recounting the day. I was taken with the simplicity of his life yet the pure joy he felt in sharing it. He didn't want me to simply know what had happened. He wanted me to FEEL it. And I could. I believe he relished his position as the older brother but even today would never admit it. I miss him...I really do. He is a very special child and when he finds himself, will do great things.
His 2 younger brothers, one a care-taker whose job it had been to make sure everyone had a pillow and blanket at nap time before he could get one himself, the other a perfectionist who climbed into bed by sitting on his pillow and scooching down because the lines on his blanket had to be straight, were not much different. They recounted their day in much the same way, discovering much the same things. There was A difference. While I was regaled with the news of the day, I was not the intended audience. It was okay for me to hear and it was expected that I listen, but their older brother was the real object of their exuberance. They could not wait to tell him about their first time riding a bike, just like him. They had been there for his first soccer game and now they wanted him to know about theirs. One thing did remain the same. It didn't matter who was the audience, you couldn't just know the facts, you had to resonate in their joy. I can not imagine life without them. The world will be a better place because they are it.
And then a daughter. A frightful proposition for a dad. Uncharted water. Shes a funny girl. A bright and sunny disposition always cheerful always on about something. A talker...and an expressive one at that. She had her firsts too and once again I was the intended audience. I vividly remember her first day at school. She had been there when I took the boys to their first day and tried to help soothe the separation anxiety and wipe the tears from their faces and, unbeknown st to me, she had learned the routine. She was excited to just get dressed for school. As she walked in to class she was introduced to the teacher who showed her what to do with her things. From that moment, the teacher had competition. It was a race to the door to see who would greet the children first, show them where to put their stuff and then tour them around the room. The teacher says they came to an understanding. It was teachers job to greet the children, my daughter could show them where to put their stuff and walk them around the room. As I left it was I who was feeling the separation anxiety and even a wink from the teacher who quietly mouthed the words, "she'll be okay" couldn't wipe away my tears. When she got home she had a full sail of new life events to tell me about. We were long past painting my fingernails and toenails or every size, color or shape of hair clips used as she was "doing my hair". Her daily tails were different. The were about events, yes.. but more about the people around those events and for me that was very hard to keep up with. I know this for sure....There is more color in the world with her in it and one day the world will take notice.
As I reflect on their past I naturally must reflect on my own. It saddens me a bit. Its not that I don't remember the exuberance, I do. I miss it. I'm not sure when it happened... but somewhere along the way the reigns of pure joy and excitement slipped from my hands and I had picked the club of responsibility. I no longer relished the fun of rolling around a mud puddle, I was to busy trying not to have to clean it up. I was no longer a seven year old boy, clothes thrown aside, climbing a tree as a member of the Bare Naked Club. I was too busy figuring the deductible owed on my health insurance policy just in case someone got hurt or searching for that very tree I climbed to picket it as a site of unspeakable unmentionables.
Boys climbing a tree naked indeed!!!
When did it happen? When did we stop trying to swing as high as we could and then jump when we got there? I long to think about what could be and not dwell on why they weren't. I have sadly lost the joy of living and replaced it with the pain and, worse than that, I risk doing the same to my kids. I don't want to do that. Its time I started pay attention to the little things and ignoring the big ones. After all isn't that where God resides??
Starting today, I will take the advice of that esteemed psuedopsychologist, Sidney Freeman who said:
"Sometimes you gotta pull down your pants and slide on the ice"
These are, after all, the musings of a mind that wanders.
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