Superior Style
I have a confession. A deep secret. And, it has been this way for years. It’s the only way I knew how. At one point, I tried to change but I couldn’t. So, I gave in. It was tough battle and after two decades of emotional turmoil I realized the only path to follow was the one from within. Now, with a new found appreciation for my inner self, I am prepared to reveal my secret to the world.
I tie my shoes using the Bunny Ears.
Granted, I didn’t know that they were referred to as ‘Bunny Ears’ until much later in life. But, I remember the ordeal it was to learn how to tie my shoelaces. At first, my dad tried to teach me. At the time I felt stupid 'cause I didn't get it. In retrospect, I realize that it probably had more to do with my father’s lack of teaching skills. The man couldn’t teach a fish how to swim. But, I digress.
So my mom started to teach me. After the initial ‘over-under’ step, she showed me how to make two loops. And then she told me to do the same ‘over-under’ technique with the loops... And BAM! There it was. My shoelaces were tied. As I stared down at my shoes a smile slowly crept onto my face as my mom proceeded to congratulate me on my newfound shoe-tying skills.
From that fateful day forward, I never could understand why one would ever use the
other method of shoe-tying. Frankly, I still don’t get how to do it. A friend tried to teach me the other day. It was weird. I made like one loop and then attempted to wrap the other lace around it. And I was supposed to do something with it. And then I pulled it too far so I only had one loop. And then I think I was supposed to dance around a fire while praying to the rain god. And then sacrifice a virgin to the volcano.
Additionally, there are less well known benefits to the Bunny Ears technique. One such example is that of the double knot. When the double knot, Bunny Ears style, is used, it can be undone by simply pulling one of the laces. The same way that you would untie single knotted laces. You just need to pull harder. Now, I am aware that the idea behind the double knot is that this method of untying would not be possible thus ensuring the longevity of the knot. However, if you try it, you will quickly realize the fantastic benefits the Bunny Ears double knot. The knot is tight. Resilient enough to resist common untying yet simple enough to be untied with ease. Fantastic.
So, I commend those of you that refused to be taken in by the popularity of that inferior shoe-tying style. I take solace in the fact that every now and again, I see someone using the Bunny Ears to tie their shoes. Then I walk up to them and give them a high-five. Then they ask why. And when I tell them, you see that same little smile creep up on their face. It’s like we are part a special group. Just a little something to link our kind together. A group of individuals with superior style.
What? The email. What, What? The email
‘Kay, so yesterday, when I was trying to get out of the office, I had to write an email. I had to write it then and get it out as quickly as possible. I’d explain why, but it doesn’t matter and you probably don’t care. Long story short, it was 30 minutes after I usually leave and the email had to go out, ASAP.
For the record, the email needed to be sent out to a number of people, most of whom I don’t know, and I need to get these people to check something and send me an email back. Translation: The email has to be worded very carefully. Why? ‘Cause people are stupid. Each ambiguity halves the amount of people that will follow the instructions properly. But, I digress.
So, I finish typing up my little email. Awesome. Now I need to add an attachment. Notes has a drag and drop interface. Even easier, right? So I grab my little attachment and drag it onto the email to where I want it to go. But, since Notes sucks ass, it places the attachment in the middle of email, right in the middle of sentence. And then I did what any self-respecting power user would do. I hit Ctrl-Z. Why? ‘Cause that’s the keystroke for Undo. And Notes, being the glorified turd that it is, decided to delete my entire email, save the first sentence.
My first reaction was to yell “NO!” and then “FUCK!” in rapid succession. As my co-worker came over to see if I was OK, it hit me. In a normal program, one can just hit Ctrl-Y to redo. But, as you may be able to infer from the existence of the paragraphs below this one, it didn’t work.
Furious doesn’t really cover it. However, instead of bitching, I just decided I would type it up again so I could just go home. Type type type. This time, I add the attachment properly. So we’re good.
However, I notice something in the email. “Hmmm… everything should be good… but since I am sending this to so many people, I should double-check it.” So, I pull up another email just to see it.
This is why I hate tabs, by the way. I look at the old email for just a second. I then proceeded to close it. For some reason, Notes always assumes that I want to change the text of emails that were sent to me. … Not really sure why, but whatever. So a little window pops up. “Do you want to save your changes?” “No, cause I didn’t make any changes.” I click “Discard Changes.” … … … … And for some reason the old email is still on my screen.
Good thing the office was pretty much empty at that point ‘cause I cursed something wicked.
I had to type that bitch again. Got it right that time. Third one is the charm, I guess. I hate computers. I like my computer. But I hate everyone else’s computer.
When, exactly, do they grow up?
Do you remember school when you were little? In elementary school, the teacher had to raise her voice to get the kids to quiet down. If it was cupcake day in cafeteria, she might have had to yell, but only a little.
Then a couple of years later, it got worse. The kids’ respect for authority had waned a bit. So being belligerent toward the teacher was easy for those couple kids. And the rest of class followed suit cause bowing to peer pressure makes you cool.
And in high school, it actually became a little bit easier on the teachers. It was cool to be quiet and distant toward a teacher, only to get all rowdy in hallways between classes with your crew. And lunch… well that was just craziness. However, I digress.
And then you get to college. It’s a little different there. The vast majority of people present are there cause they want to be. It’s somewhat rare to someone that is spending 15 to 40 grand a year on something that they aren’t willing to put a little bit of effort into. Regardless, there is always those two or three girls (sorry ladies, but it usually is girls) who sit in the back and talk in class. And not like that whispering you can barely hear them talk. Straight up, normal conversational tone and volume talking. In a lecture hall acoustically designed to project voices.
And I always wanted to punch them in the face. Not that I was really paying attention in those classes where I was stuck in a room with chatty freshmen girls, but seriously people… Have some damn respect. I could rant on this for a hell of lot more. But I’ll save you the trouble.
My point is, I figured that it would end as people grew up. I figured that the last remnants of it were those chatty freshmen girls. But no, how wrong I was.
I was at meeting. It was a very large meeting. IT all hands meeting. Like 60-75 people. Long story short: Two ladies (I’d early thirties), incessantly telling each other how they didn’t need to be at this meeting intermixed with stuff about their boyfriends. At one point they were telling each other where their boyfriends shaved. It was incredible. No respect for the speaker, whatsoever. Frankly, I’m surprised that, a. they put up with that shit, and b. they still have jobs.
I have feeling that when I’m a manager, people are gonna hate me. Oh well.
The Bacon Beef N' Cheddar
I discovered something. Something incredible. Something that should have been thought of years ago. Something that should have been awesome.
The Bacon Beef N’ Cheddar sandwich at Arbys.
Who would have thought that something as perfect as the Beef N’ Cheddar could be topped? Not I. But someone had an idea. A fantastic idea. The idea to top all ideas. Add bacon to the top of that wonderful sandwich of heaven.
When I discovered this sandwich, my heart leaped forward. A Beef N’ Cheddar with bacon? Why, the idea was ludicrous. To add to the already perfect? Dangerous. But bacon? It could only make it better. That’s what bacon does. It makes sandwiches better.
I realize that I am about to commit blasphemy… however, I’m not much of a bacon fan. I believe that ham is the superior pork product. Except on sandwiches. In the sandwich world, bacon reins supreme.
As I ordered what was obviously going to be a fantastic sandwich, my eye started twitching. As the time to first bite approached, my hands trembled.
3 bites in… I realized something. This sandwich sucked! The bacon… it ruined it… I didn’t understand. I kept eating. Maybe I was wrong. After consumption was complete… I realized the unthinkable had come true.
Bacon Beef N’ Cheddar sucks.
I don’t understand it. I wish I did. But dammit, that sandwich was not good. Pure disappointment.
Putting it on the line
Life is like gambling. It’s about risk vs. rewards. The greater the risk, the greater the reward. Or the greater the loss.
When one walks into a casino, sits down, and places money on that table… one
needs to be willing to put that money on the line. And not just some of it. All of it. Unless one is willing to walk away with nothing at the end, one will never reach one’s full potential. One will never be able to play that game to the best of one’s ability. Not only will one be fundamnetally weak, that weakness will be quite blatant to the sharks. And a feeding will occur.
When you take risks in your life, be it business or personal, you must be willing to lose what you put on the line. You must be able to walk away if needed. If you cannot do that, you have destroyed your own foundation.
Life is constant battle. It’s a series of risks. And your payoff is directly related to the amount that you are willing to put on the line. Few but the cutthroat come out on top.
And that’s my somber ass two cents.
