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THURSDAY
JUNE 28, 2006 |
| Hey
There!! For those of you who came here over the last
couple of weeks looking for new stories and found none…
my apologies. I’ve been slacking a little bit
lately. I wish I could tell you I’ve been off
doing something exotic. Sadly, I have not. But when
I do… you’ll be the first to know. In the
meantime, we’ll stick with the beauty in everyday
things. Welcome Back. I missed you. Seriously.
RESUMING
THE EXCITEMENT
I’m thinking about taking another position here
at the radio station and the head of that department
asked me to put a resume together. So, as I sat down
at my computer, I was recalling the last stime I went
through this. It was a few years ago. I was living
in Chicago. I woke up one morning, started to get
ready for my dead-end job and knew it was time for
a change. Time to take charge! Show a little ambition!
…So I called in sick, made a pot of coffee,
and sat down with the classified ads. Four hours later
they wrapped up the Family Ties Marathon I’d
stumbled upon, and I knew it was time to get down
to business. I opened the paper and there it was!
‘Outside sales, guaranteed income’ …Hmmm…
‘No experience necessary’ …Ooooh,
that’s so me... ‘Looking for highly motivated
self-starter’ …Huh… hello?! They
might as well put my picture in there… ‘Apply
in person. No phone calls please.’ So I picked
up the phone to find out more about this exciting
opportunity. Two days later I was selling meat out
of the back of a truck. True story. Gotta' create
your own destiny.
So, anyway... Here I am again, putting together the
ol’ resume. Always a harrowing experience for
me. It’s like a trip down memory lane, just
completely void of any sentimentality whatsoever.
Okay… EDUCATION. Now, if it’s your first
job right out of college, your employer may want to
see transcripts. But, I’ve been out of school
for some time. At this point chances are slim that
anybody’s going to want to see my report card,
so I thought I might spice this up a bit. …Bachelor’s
Degree in Communications… ummmm… working’
on my Masters, what the hell.
Okay… EXPERIENCE. Now, that’s not entirely
accurate is it? …Since none of my experiences
worth mentioning are going to help me get the job…
how ‘bout WORK HISTORY? Yeah, I’m a little
more comfortable with that.
Alrighty. Lesseee… 1989-1991… well, I
made pizzas. That’s not gonna wow ‘em.
“…Consistently created well-rounded sales
approach, based on serving customers needs…
and making change(s) as necessary, …in heated
environment.” Ooh, that’s good.
Okay, from June 1st to June 8th of ‘91, that’s
when I sold meat out of the back of a truck. Though
clearly in need of embellishment, this one proved
a little more difficult. I won’t even get into
how I described that fiasco. Suffice to say the term,
“Mobile Protein Distribution” was invented.
And used. And so it went until I got to my current
position, which I couldn’t sugarcoat too much,
as the person reading it works in the office down
the hall.
Next it was on to the section where you can list your
personal attributes. I’ve always found it’s
best to stick with the qualities in this section that
endeared me to my kindergarten teacher. “I work
well with others… good at picking up after myself…
and I know how to separate work from playtime.”
So there it is, my life on one sheet of paper. Hope
it does the trick. Oh, and by the way…? If anybody
asks you if I have a pilot’s license…
If you could say “Yeah” that’d be
great, ‘cause I kinda put you down as a reference.
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THURSDAY
JUNE 8, 2006 |
CRYING
AT THE DRIVE-THRU WINDOW
I think I’m going to have to give up
some of my favorite products. Maybe they’re just
changing with the times and I’m not, I don’t
know. Their new ad campaigns are confusing me.
Sadly, Mc Donald’s no longer makes cheeseburgers
with me in mind. Or at least they’re not trying
to tempt me the way they once did. I dunno what’s
going on. Unless, of course, they think I am ‘chillin
out, rollin with my shorty’ when I’m not
‘catchin mad air on the mountain’. In which
case I’m beginning to think that clown never knew
me at all. He used to love to see me smile.
Kentucky Fried Chicken is another joint that seems to
want to change their image a lot. I don’t think
they even know who they’re going after. “Eating
healthy? Take home a bucket of the colonel’s extra
crispy!” They even shortened up the name awhile
ago and decided they wanted to go with just the initials.
And I was cool with that. You don’t want to mention
grease while we’re eating chicken, hey…
I’m not going to bring it up. So I got used to
calling it KFC, then they said, “Y’know
what? We’re just gonna' go back to the long name,
you can call us KFC or go back to good ol’ “kitchen
fresh chicken.” Kitchen Fresh Chicken? What is
that? The colonel has now overestimated the extent my
short-term memory loss and my health consciousness.
Kitchen fresh… I went in there the other day and
felt like I had to say, “I’d like mine fried…
y’know… like they do in Kentucky.”
I n some cases, I got hooked on a product and they just
changed it without saying a word. I enjoy a refreshing
breath mint once in awhile, like anybody else. The one
I always preferred was the only one with a glistening
drop of retsin. Now, I don’t know that I could
taste the retsin, or if I even know what it is, but
it sure was nice to know that it was there, wasn’t
it? Where did the retsin go? Did they run out? How could
they, when it was only given out one glistening drop
at a time?
but the worst thing, the worst thing is when I’ve
grown to love a product and they just take it away altogether.
You remember Monchichis? You haven’t seen any
of them around lately, have you? No, really… have
you? Oh, how I loved the Monchichi. It was like one
minute they’re everywhere and then the hair starts
falling off yours, and they’re nowhere to be found.
You know what that does to a kid? I still remember it
was right before my thirteenth birthday. I don’t
have to tell you there was one pre-teen singing a sad,
sad song that night. “… Oh so soft and cu…
da… leeeee.”
Dammit, I swore I wouldn’t get all worked up.
I’m really more mad than anything. From now on,
I’m not going to use any products that don’t
aim their advertising at me, or ones that try to pull
any switcheroos on me… or that have made me cry.
Mark my words… you won’t see me at the drive-thru
at “Kitchen Fresh Chicken” or at “Mickey
Dizzle Mc Shnizzles” any time soon. And even if
you do, you can bet I won’t be munching on a Certs.
And even if I am, you’ll know which car is mine;
the one with the sticker of Calvin peeing on a Monchichi.
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