Linda came back from work yesterday with a fascinating story. The group she manages had a breakfast roundtable discussion, and the key speaker was a CIO who discussed how his department and company were coping with the need to cut jobs during the economic downturn.
Part of their process had been to map out what the staff were doing and how productive they were being. As you might expect, they discovered there was overlap among quite a few employees. What you might not have expected was also a surprise to them.
They discovered that one woman spent virtually all of her time doing nothing but attending meetings.
This is kind of a litmus test. When you hear this your reaction is either A) what a waste of time! or B) where can I get this job? I am pretty sure most people choose A because most people hate meetings with a passion.
There's an interesting New York Times article by Reid Hastie that makes the point that meetings actually tend to reduce an organization's productivity. He writes, "As a general rule, meetings make individuals perform below their capacity and skill levels."
Hastie's chief point seems to be that busy people are short of time. Most meetings take up far too much time and produce almost no substantial results. Losing that time in the meeting is almost as bad as losing money yet people are careless about it. "Time is the most perishable good in the world and it is not replenishable," he writes. "You can't earn an extra hour to use on a busy day."
Having run more meetings than I care to admit, I know there's more to it than that, though. Meetings are also great ways to establish the pecking order, to show who's important. Oh, and once in a while to share information.
Let's face it, calling a meeting says, "I am important enough to call a meeting and ask you to show up and waste your time." And going to, say, the boss's meeting says, "I am important enough that the boss wants me to share my ideas, which will be the only part of the meeting that isn't a waste of time."
So I have come up with a proposal that will simultaneously increase business productivity, ease the economic pressures on pensioners and yet retain the status-building benefits of the current system.
I am organizing fellow retirees to become stand-in meeting attendees for busy businesspeople. We'll call it The Grey Proxies, and like the daemons in the Golden Compass we will show up at, say, the quarterly results meeting and simply walk in and explain whom we are representing.
The Grey Proxies will not say anything at the meetings, which will shave precious minutes for those who choose to attend it themselves. They will, however, laugh at the meeting organizer's jokes and may, at the end, compliment people on their PowerPoint presentation.
During the meeting the Grey Proxies will take copious notes, although in fact they will be writing letters or solving Sudoku puzzles since they will have no interest in the topic of the meeting. In this they will be similar to several of the actual attendees.
After the meeting, they will brief the person they represent. It will be concise and very nearly always take the same form. "The meeting was a waste of time."
Friday, February 27, 2009
Thursday, February 26, 2009
The Poetry Man
And where are the tinkers of yesterday
fixing what no longer works
when we live in an age that replaces
all those things that broke.
And some times even choose
merely to live without.
------------------------
The toaster menace, I mean repair, reminded me of those lines of poetry I wrote about 40 years ago. They aren't the exact lines because I don't have any of my old writing anymore, but they are pretty close to it. I think I was feeling pretty sorry for myself that I had been dumped one more time. Very elegiac. That is, if elegiac means wimpy.
Later I learned that anger was more interesting than self-pity. When Gloria decided that I was no longer the man of her dreams, I wrote the best poem I ever wrote. It started out:
Witch, make her old like you.
Make her hair fall out in handsful.
Make her skin grow rough and coarse.
Et cetera, et cetera. There was lots more, but you get the idea. There were two problems with that poem. The first was that I completely stole the idea from Diane Wakoski, a truly great poet who had written "I'm Dancing on the Grave of a Son of a Bitch". The second problem, as you see by re-reading the first few lines again, is that the curse rebounded and it all ended up happening to me.
I don't write poetry any more. Haven't for years. It all got way too hard somewhere about the time I spent most of my day writing and editing articles about computers. That's not a good excuse, of course. Lots of great poets have held a day job and still gone four-to-the-beat pretty well.
Many poets became university teachers, of course, so that's more like job-lite and doesn't really count. But others were productive outside their stanzas. John Donne was a diplomat and a lawyer. Gerard Manley Hopkins was a priest. Ezra Pound was a highly successful fascist and lunatic. And my hero, Wallace Stevens, was a vice president of the Hartford Insurance company.
There's a wonderful story about Stevens that I hope is true and not urban myth. A writer for a literary magazine had an appointment to interview Stevens at his office. By that time, Stevens was generally acknowledged in the literary world to be one of the great poets of America.
Stevens' secretary chatted with the writer as he waited and finally asked him why he was interviewing Stevens. When the writer told her, she was taken aback. "Our Wally is a poet!" she said.
When I taught poetry at the university, I always included lots of his poems. He wrote some lovely stuff. In fact, when Linda and I were moving into the madly part of falling madly in love, I gave her a book of his poems so she would A) get to enjoy his stuff and B) learn a little more about me by seeing what I really loved.
That part worked. The part that didn't go off quite so well was the other book I gave her, Edith Wharton's novel "Ethan Frome". That's the one where the star-crossed lovers have one moment of very innocent happiness and decide it would be better to die together than live apart. They jump on a sled and go down a steep hill straight into a tree. Only that goes wrong; they both survive and live into old age bitter and - literally - twisted.
After she read it, I can still remember LK asking me in a very odd voice just what in the hell I was trying to tell her by giving her that book. Oh, I answered, I hadn't even thought about what actually happens in the book. I just love the way it's written.
So I guess I accomplished one goal. She learned a little bit more about me.
Nonetheless, she married me anyway. I should note, however, that she and I have never gone sledding together.
-------------------
And as a postscript, LK and I remain strictly white bread for one more day. The toaster repair has been delayed again. I forgot that the car was going in for servicing early this morning, so I haven't had a chance to get around to the hardware store. But it's coming. Stay tuned.
fixing what no longer works
when we live in an age that replaces
all those things that broke.
And some times even choose
merely to live without.
------------------------
The toaster menace, I mean repair, reminded me of those lines of poetry I wrote about 40 years ago. They aren't the exact lines because I don't have any of my old writing anymore, but they are pretty close to it. I think I was feeling pretty sorry for myself that I had been dumped one more time. Very elegiac. That is, if elegiac means wimpy.
Later I learned that anger was more interesting than self-pity. When Gloria decided that I was no longer the man of her dreams, I wrote the best poem I ever wrote. It started out:
Witch, make her old like you.
Make her hair fall out in handsful.
Make her skin grow rough and coarse.
Et cetera, et cetera. There was lots more, but you get the idea. There were two problems with that poem. The first was that I completely stole the idea from Diane Wakoski, a truly great poet who had written "I'm Dancing on the Grave of a Son of a Bitch". The second problem, as you see by re-reading the first few lines again, is that the curse rebounded and it all ended up happening to me.
I don't write poetry any more. Haven't for years. It all got way too hard somewhere about the time I spent most of my day writing and editing articles about computers. That's not a good excuse, of course. Lots of great poets have held a day job and still gone four-to-the-beat pretty well.
Many poets became university teachers, of course, so that's more like job-lite and doesn't really count. But others were productive outside their stanzas. John Donne was a diplomat and a lawyer. Gerard Manley Hopkins was a priest. Ezra Pound was a highly successful fascist and lunatic. And my hero, Wallace Stevens, was a vice president of the Hartford Insurance company.
There's a wonderful story about Stevens that I hope is true and not urban myth. A writer for a literary magazine had an appointment to interview Stevens at his office. By that time, Stevens was generally acknowledged in the literary world to be one of the great poets of America.
Stevens' secretary chatted with the writer as he waited and finally asked him why he was interviewing Stevens. When the writer told her, she was taken aback. "Our Wally is a poet!" she said.
When I taught poetry at the university, I always included lots of his poems. He wrote some lovely stuff. In fact, when Linda and I were moving into the madly part of falling madly in love, I gave her a book of his poems so she would A) get to enjoy his stuff and B) learn a little more about me by seeing what I really loved.
That part worked. The part that didn't go off quite so well was the other book I gave her, Edith Wharton's novel "Ethan Frome". That's the one where the star-crossed lovers have one moment of very innocent happiness and decide it would be better to die together than live apart. They jump on a sled and go down a steep hill straight into a tree. Only that goes wrong; they both survive and live into old age bitter and - literally - twisted.
After she read it, I can still remember LK asking me in a very odd voice just what in the hell I was trying to tell her by giving her that book. Oh, I answered, I hadn't even thought about what actually happens in the book. I just love the way it's written.
So I guess I accomplished one goal. She learned a little bit more about me.
Nonetheless, she married me anyway. I should note, however, that she and I have never gone sledding together.
-------------------
And as a postscript, LK and I remain strictly white bread for one more day. The toaster repair has been delayed again. I forgot that the car was going in for servicing early this morning, so I haven't had a chance to get around to the hardware store. But it's coming. Stay tuned.
Wednesday, February 25, 2009
Quick Note So My Mother Doesn't Worry
Since I don't want my mother worrying until late afternoon (US eastern time) which is morning when I wake up here, I am dropping a quick note to let you know I am alive. And the toaster is still waiting.
I got to step #1 and removed the toaster bottom, but I didn't have the right size tool to continue to step #2, so I did what any sensible person would do. I made soup instead.
I will go to the hardware store tomorrow and should have nice brown color on both sides of the slice of bread by tomorrow night.
And while you're at it, there is a really interesting comment from Jorge at the Reality Bytes post. It was nice of him to take so much time to write, and it goes to show how much effort goes into succeeding on these reality shows. And it also explains why he was our favorite.
Can't post more right now. We're watching very old Top Model episodes, followed by Masterchef.
I got to step #1 and removed the toaster bottom, but I didn't have the right size tool to continue to step #2, so I did what any sensible person would do. I made soup instead.
I will go to the hardware store tomorrow and should have nice brown color on both sides of the slice of bread by tomorrow night.
And while you're at it, there is a really interesting comment from Jorge at the Reality Bytes post. It was nice of him to take so much time to write, and it goes to show how much effort goes into succeeding on these reality shows. And it also explains why he was our favorite.
Can't post more right now. We're watching very old Top Model episodes, followed by Masterchef.
Elementary School
"This chick is toast."Bill Murray as Peter Venkman
in Ghost Busters
--------------------------------
Today is going to be an adventure for me.
I hope.
What to others might seem ordinary enough will be for me a test, a challenge, an opportunity to prove that my handyman skill set is not as bad as everyone thinks. Or it may kill me.
The task at hand sounds simple enough. I am going to replace a burned out element in our toaster. I said it sounds simple enough, but when I went online to find out how to do it, I realized this is a project that rivals the complexity, say, of putting together an Ikea entertainment unit. And the problems I encountered on that project remains one of Linda's favorite dinner party stories.
I am starting on this project because LK went into the kitchen supply store Saturday to buy a new toaster to replace the Dualit. The store was out of the 3-slice model we wanted, but in the ensuing conversation the clerk learned that the only problem we had is that one of the elements had burned out.
"Only an American would buy a new $350 toaster rather than replace the element," she sniffed. And I should add that when Linda told this story to Davy, his immediate response was, "You have a $350 toaster!"
That, of course, is a whole different story. I am not sure why we decided our bread would be browner with an expensive toaster, but somewhere back in history that is exactly what we did. I have a vague recollection that it had more to do with the looks of the toaster than the end result. But no matter, I digress. This post is about my decision to tackle the job myself.
You can see what I will be doing by going to this incredibly handy site written by Peter Eland in the UK. He has put together pictures for every stage and really explained it well. (That's one at ths top of this post.) He has also started his how-to lesson with this:
Please note: This is just an account of how I did it. I am NOT a trained Dualit technician. I am NOT an electrician. If you do anything whatsoever to your toaster you do so ENTIRELY AT YOUR OWN RISK. This page is in no way endorsed by Dualit or anyone else. I have no connection whatsoever with Dualit, not even as a customer! If you have the slightest doubt as to your competence then do not do what is described here and instead go to a Dualit service agent or electrician.
Well, I am getting verrrry tired of being the odd man out. All I know is my father would fix his own toaster. And Robert in California would fix it - and probably add three or four new features. And Andrew in Sydney would just unplug it and plug it back in, saying "This fixes most things."
Well, it's time for this Rusty to join the club. I'm doing it myself.
I will let you know tomorrow how it went.
If there is no post tomorrow, don't worry. I am sure I will be OK, but there may not be any power in the house.
Tuesday, February 24, 2009
Reality Bytes
Well, this blog's readership continues to swell. No, I am not talking about the explosive growth that has seen us record about 1,000 page views in the past month. (OK. It's 651, but that rounds up to 1,000 doesn't it?)
What I am talking about is in fact either the first time I've been punked here or the first time I've had someone outside my circle of family and friends who has posted a comment. In case you missed it, Jorge from "Groomer Has It" left a message on the last post. (Or someone pretending to be him did, but frankly I just don't think any of you are that way inclined. Well, maybe Robert and Ian, but I cannot imagine either of them knowing any of the details about Groomer Has It.)
Just to make it easier for you, I am copying his comment here:
Hi there!
Is me Jorge, I just come across your post. I love the fact that trough the show I have met a lot of great people from Australia, and wile I complain about the cold weather here, they get to tell me how temperatures over 100F feels like :).
I hope you enjoy the show, and if for whatever reason I make u smile, even with my silliness, is great, that is what the entertainment industry is all about. and By the way... Malissa, the blond girl... it wasn't an act.. she did believe in her 7th sense....
Not only was it fun to get that note, but it led to some fascinating discoveries. First I checked out Jorge's web site, planetjorge.com. I learned all about Jorge, who is a New York-based groomer to the stars, or more precisely, to their animals.
But then I clicked on some of his links and a whole new world opened for me. For it turns out that Jorge is a graduate of the New York Reality TV School. That's right. There is a school dedicated to training people to become reality show contestants.
Jorge, in fact, is one of their star graduates. "Jorge Bendersky trained at The New York Reality TV School, was immediately cast on Animal Planet's 'Groomer Has It'," their home page begins. But it's not just my newest blog reader they've trained.
Check it out: "Jonathan Fable took a one time seminar on a Tuesday night, flew to Hollywood on a Thursday, auditioned for "Hole in the Wall", was cast and won first prize and $10,000 on Friday! Billy Garcia was cast directly out of a class line up for the newest Busta Rhymes music video!" Well, you get the idea - and the exclamation points are all theirs.
Elsewhere they run this glowing student testimonial:
I learned more in one session with (school founder) Robert Galinsky, than I did in weeks of class. His style is unique, effective, and worth the investment!" - Charles Mack (Academy Award nominee, "August Rush")
(Although, I must admit that this one confuses me, since Charles Mack was nominated for writing a song for the movie August Rush, and I cannot quite figure out how the New York Reality TV School courses would have helped him do that.)
It is somewhat amazing to me that this whole sub-industry for reality TV has developed. As with any reputable educational facility, the NYRTVS (that is one amazingly long acronym) has a mission statement. In their case, it is "to train and develop non-actors, and actors, through the spectrum of experiences a reality TV contestant/actor will face . . . We are about finding and hi-lighting what makes you unique, building your confidence and examining how you package yourself so you can best get cast on the show of your choosing. We trains (sic) students to be exciting confident members of Reality TV casts . . ."
Wow, can it be that big a business to justify starting a school to train non-actors and actors? (And doesn't that pretty well cover everyone in the world? Except for maybe Daryl Hannah, because she's not really a non-actor and she's certainly not an actor.)
Well, IMDB, the movie and TV database, lists 4,066 titles for reality TV. And just look at the shows the school's current guest lecturers have been on: American Idol, I Want to Work for Diddy, Survivor, Hell's Kitchen, Amazing Race, Groomer Has It, Glam God with Vivica A. Fox, The Bachelor, America's Next Top Model, Queen Bees, Blind Date, G's to Gents, Human Weapon, I Love New York, The Apprentice, Deal or No Deal, A Shot at Love with Tila Tequila, Top Chef, Beauty and the Geek, and Yo Mamma.
Thank God we live in Australia, where only about half these shows air. I doubt if LK and I would ever leave the house if we also had the opportunities to watch I Want to Work for Diddy, A Shot at Love with Tila Tequila and Glam God with Vivica A. Fox, as well as the others that have made it here. I mean, let's be honest. We're now watching a four-year-old rerun of America's Next Top Model that we missed the first time around. And of course, this post all got started because we are hooked on Groomer Has It.
Which is a neat way to bring it all back to Jorge. According to the NYRTVS web site, he is now a spokesperson for Animal Planet and a lecturer on their staff, in addition to running his grooming business. He has been interviewed on heaps of TV shows about his reality TV experience, and I suspect that he's having lots more fun telling his tales in front of the cameras than behind the pooches, lifting their tails.
What I am talking about is in fact either the first time I've been punked here or the first time I've had someone outside my circle of family and friends who has posted a comment. In case you missed it, Jorge from "Groomer Has It" left a message on the last post. (Or someone pretending to be him did, but frankly I just don't think any of you are that way inclined. Well, maybe Robert and Ian, but I cannot imagine either of them knowing any of the details about Groomer Has It.)
Just to make it easier for you, I am copying his comment here:
Hi there!
Is me Jorge, I just come across your post. I love the fact that trough the show I have met a lot of great people from Australia, and wile I complain about the cold weather here, they get to tell me how temperatures over 100F feels like :).
I hope you enjoy the show, and if for whatever reason I make u smile, even with my silliness, is great, that is what the entertainment industry is all about. and By the way... Malissa, the blond girl... it wasn't an act.. she did believe in her 7th sense....
Not only was it fun to get that note, but it led to some fascinating discoveries. First I checked out Jorge's web site, planetjorge.com. I learned all about Jorge, who is a New York-based groomer to the stars, or more precisely, to their animals.
But then I clicked on some of his links and a whole new world opened for me. For it turns out that Jorge is a graduate of the New York Reality TV School. That's right. There is a school dedicated to training people to become reality show contestants.
Jorge, in fact, is one of their star graduates. "Jorge Bendersky trained at The New York Reality TV School, was immediately cast on Animal Planet's 'Groomer Has It'," their home page begins. But it's not just my newest blog reader they've trained.
Check it out: "Jonathan Fable took a one time seminar on a Tuesday night, flew to Hollywood on a Thursday, auditioned for "Hole in the Wall", was cast and won first prize and $10,000 on Friday! Billy Garcia was cast directly out of a class line up for the newest Busta Rhymes music video!" Well, you get the idea - and the exclamation points are all theirs.
Elsewhere they run this glowing student testimonial:
I learned more in one session with (school founder) Robert Galinsky, than I did in weeks of class. His style is unique, effective, and worth the investment!" - Charles Mack (Academy Award nominee, "August Rush")
(Although, I must admit that this one confuses me, since Charles Mack was nominated for writing a song for the movie August Rush, and I cannot quite figure out how the New York Reality TV School courses would have helped him do that.)
It is somewhat amazing to me that this whole sub-industry for reality TV has developed. As with any reputable educational facility, the NYRTVS (that is one amazingly long acronym) has a mission statement. In their case, it is "to train and develop non-actors, and actors, through the spectrum of experiences a reality TV contestant/actor will face . . . We are about finding and hi-lighting what makes you unique, building your confidence and examining how you package yourself so you can best get cast on the show of your choosing. We trains (sic) students to be exciting confident members of Reality TV casts . . ."
Wow, can it be that big a business to justify starting a school to train non-actors and actors? (And doesn't that pretty well cover everyone in the world? Except for maybe Daryl Hannah, because she's not really a non-actor and she's certainly not an actor.)
Well, IMDB, the movie and TV database, lists 4,066 titles for reality TV. And just look at the shows the school's current guest lecturers have been on: American Idol, I Want to Work for Diddy, Survivor, Hell's Kitchen, Amazing Race, Groomer Has It, Glam God with Vivica A. Fox, The Bachelor, America's Next Top Model, Queen Bees, Blind Date, G's to Gents, Human Weapon, I Love New York, The Apprentice, Deal or No Deal, A Shot at Love with Tila Tequila, Top Chef, Beauty and the Geek, and Yo Mamma.
Thank God we live in Australia, where only about half these shows air. I doubt if LK and I would ever leave the house if we also had the opportunities to watch I Want to Work for Diddy, A Shot at Love with Tila Tequila and Glam God with Vivica A. Fox, as well as the others that have made it here. I mean, let's be honest. We're now watching a four-year-old rerun of America's Next Top Model that we missed the first time around. And of course, this post all got started because we are hooked on Groomer Has It.
Which is a neat way to bring it all back to Jorge. According to the NYRTVS web site, he is now a spokesperson for Animal Planet and a lecturer on their staff, in addition to running his grooming business. He has been interviewed on heaps of TV shows about his reality TV experience, and I suspect that he's having lots more fun telling his tales in front of the cameras than behind the pooches, lifting their tails.
Sunday, February 22, 2009
The Groomsman
That's Jai Rodriguez. He's one of those people who have become minor celebrities on TV without actually acting, singing, dancing, telling jokes or otherwise entertaining us. (Mind you, he has a decent resume of stage work as an actor and singer, but that's not how he became a minor star.)He first showed up in our living room as one of the Fab Five on Queer Eye for the Straight Guy. Each of the gay guys had a particular skill they brought to bear on improving some hopeless straight guy.
Ted was great in the kitchen and taught the loser to cook. Carson was an expert on men's fashion and helped the hopeless soul look good for his lady. Thom was an extremely talented interior designer who made over the bachelor pad so the guy's date wouldn't feel she needed to wear latex gloves all night. And Kyan was very knowledgeable about hair, beards and grooming in general. He got the blokes a haircut and then taught them how to take a shower and shave.
By the time those four got done, you might think they had pretty much covered all the bases and there really wasn't much need for a fifth guy. You'd be wrong, of course, because you also needed to teach the straight guy a little culture. Well, that was the premise. The fact that Jai was gay, young and prettier than the other four combined might have had something to do with the producers' decision, also.
Anyhow, Jai's entire skill on the show seemed to be limited to listening to people sympathetically and then suggesting that they do whatever is in their heart - and put it in a nice package with a bow to make it more attractive.
I suspect this wasn't an act, by the way, because Linda and I got to see it in person once. He was on the same flight from San Francisco to New York as we were. Waiting to board, some woman was talking to him. And talking to him. And talking. When we got to New York, he was still listening to her as we waited around the luggage carousel. By then, I would have been tempted to just run away from her and buy new clothes rather than have to listen to one more word. But not Jai. He had totally mastered the ability not to look bored.Which probably does go a ways toward proving that he is in fact a good actor.
Anyhow, this post was prompted by the latest TV incarnation of Jai Rodriguez. He is hosting an Animal Planet reality show (that has already aired in the US) called "Groomer Has It". I know I should be embarrassed to admit that LK and I actually watch it, but it is just the opposite. We watched the first episode out of curiosity to see how Jai would do in a role that didn't involve nodding and looking interested. But now not only are we not embarrassed, we can barely wait for the next episode each week.
The show is a version of American Idol (or Top Model or Top Chef etc etc), but it is for dog groomers. That may sound as awful as a reality show can get, but that is not the case here. The contestants are so over the top and the challenges in which they compete are so stupid that the show really seems more of a clever parody of reality shows than an actual straightforward contest. In fact, each week I ask Linda if she isn't sure that this is some grand Christopher Guest-type mockumentary.
Take for example, the contestant who had been criticized by her fellow groomers for being a dumb blonde. She objected to being stereotyped based on her hair color, and went a long ways to destroying that stereotype when she corrected herself for saying we have seven sense. She had meant to say six senses. And she counted breathing as one of them.
Or how about the challenge where the groomers had to make designer dog biscuits. And Jorge, the flamboyant contestant from South America, said with great confidence, "How hard can it be to make a biscuit a dog will eat? They eat their own poo once in a while."
Throughout it all, Jai smiles, tells the contestants what their challenges are and at the end announces the judges' decisions. And he probably thanks his lucky stars that he got such a break with Queer Eye that he gets to be the host and doesn't have to actually have a conversation with the people who spend their lives clipping doggie toe nails and brushing away the matted fur around their butts.
Saturday, February 21, 2009
Sweating Bullets
Today we were at the North Sydney markets loading up on all sorts of good food when I looked down to see my t-shirt was covered with big blotches of perspiration.
If genius is one percent inspiration and 99 percent perspiration, call me Einstein. I don't even need to be moving to break into a sweat when it's the least bit humid. In fact, my body kind of works on a 30-second delay. While I will sweat up a little bit while walking or exercising, it's after I'm done and just sitting still that I start to look like Albert Brooks in that great flop sweat scene in Broadcast News. The term sweatshirt is meaningless because every shirt I own is likely to earn that title sooner or later.
So today when I looked down I realized I had few options. Since we were at the markets, I briefly thought I might try to convince someone that the sweat patterns looked a lot like the Virgin Mary and sell them my shirt for a couple of hundred dollars. The problem with that idea is that A) the patterns didn't really look like anything and B) I doubt that there is anyone in North Sydney who is religious enough to hand over their Visa to buy a sweaty miracle. Oh yes, and C) selling them my shirt meant I would be without one - and that would not be a good thing for the people trying to sell food there.
And to turn the Einstein quote on its head, today it was perspiration that caused inspiration as a line from the old Andy Griffith Show from the 60's popped into my mind. It was a line delivered by Goober Pyle that must have struck me silly as a teenager because I still remember it - or at least I did today. Trying to say something nice to a chubby girl, Goober had come up with, "For a fat girl, you don't sweat much."
And that got me thinking of all those other great comics of my youth.
Phyllis Diller - "She's so fat that when she sits around the house, she sits around the house."
Rodney Dangerfield - "I had a girlfriend that was so fat her belly button made an echo."
Henny Youngman - "My doctor said I was fat. I told him I wanted a second opinion."
And later, the very large Louie Anderson - "My first words were, 'Seconds, please'."
Well, you get the idea. Of course nowadays it's not politically correct for comedians to make fun of people who are overweight. There was a real brouhaha recently when Ricky Gervais (who acknowledges he is overweight himself) criticized people who have surgery to reduce their waistlines. When he was attacked for being insensitive to overweight people, his reply is screamingly funny. It's outrageous and very funny, but way too raunchy for many, so find it on google at your own risk. (And Mom and Dad and Peg, don't even try.)
But Gervais is undoubtedly the exception. In day-to-day life no one ever points out that I am a XXL sort of guy (no one, that is, except for that damned trainer cartoon on Wii Fit). Yet we all learn to substitute other words to make the same point. At the markets today several people looked at me and I am quite sure I overheard them saying to their friends, "Look at him. Isn't he one of the sweatiest men you've ever seen?"
If genius is one percent inspiration and 99 percent perspiration, call me Einstein. I don't even need to be moving to break into a sweat when it's the least bit humid. In fact, my body kind of works on a 30-second delay. While I will sweat up a little bit while walking or exercising, it's after I'm done and just sitting still that I start to look like Albert Brooks in that great flop sweat scene in Broadcast News. The term sweatshirt is meaningless because every shirt I own is likely to earn that title sooner or later.
So today when I looked down I realized I had few options. Since we were at the markets, I briefly thought I might try to convince someone that the sweat patterns looked a lot like the Virgin Mary and sell them my shirt for a couple of hundred dollars. The problem with that idea is that A) the patterns didn't really look like anything and B) I doubt that there is anyone in North Sydney who is religious enough to hand over their Visa to buy a sweaty miracle. Oh yes, and C) selling them my shirt meant I would be without one - and that would not be a good thing for the people trying to sell food there.
And to turn the Einstein quote on its head, today it was perspiration that caused inspiration as a line from the old Andy Griffith Show from the 60's popped into my mind. It was a line delivered by Goober Pyle that must have struck me silly as a teenager because I still remember it - or at least I did today. Trying to say something nice to a chubby girl, Goober had come up with, "For a fat girl, you don't sweat much."
And that got me thinking of all those other great comics of my youth.
Phyllis Diller - "She's so fat that when she sits around the house, she sits around the house."
Rodney Dangerfield - "I had a girlfriend that was so fat her belly button made an echo."
Henny Youngman - "My doctor said I was fat. I told him I wanted a second opinion."
And later, the very large Louie Anderson - "My first words were, 'Seconds, please'."
Well, you get the idea. Of course nowadays it's not politically correct for comedians to make fun of people who are overweight. There was a real brouhaha recently when Ricky Gervais (who acknowledges he is overweight himself) criticized people who have surgery to reduce their waistlines. When he was attacked for being insensitive to overweight people, his reply is screamingly funny. It's outrageous and very funny, but way too raunchy for many, so find it on google at your own risk. (And Mom and Dad and Peg, don't even try.)
But Gervais is undoubtedly the exception. In day-to-day life no one ever points out that I am a XXL sort of guy (no one, that is, except for that damned trainer cartoon on Wii Fit). Yet we all learn to substitute other words to make the same point. At the markets today several people looked at me and I am quite sure I overheard them saying to their friends, "Look at him. Isn't he one of the sweatiest men you've ever seen?"
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