Well, Excuse Me

Well, Excuse Me For...

 

Well, excuse me for

setting my cruise control 9 mph above freeway speed limits

leaving a phone message instead of texting

not buying organics

welcoming the development of Frankenfoods

not rounding up the bill at Whole Foods  to the next dollar and donating, as they suggest I should, the extra change to a local food bank

liking Whole Foods in spite of their smugness and sanctimoniousness

asking for a credit on my bill instead of donating my stopped Arizona Republics to their "Newspaper in the Classroom" program

thinking that people have a right to defend themselves with guns

having no desire to own a gun myself

waiting to learn the facts before condemning or exonerating  the police in incidents involving police violence

thinking it a good thing that the federal government donates body armor and other military equipment to local police departments

believing that the police should wear and use cameras at all times when on duty

fearing that continued quantitative easing will lead to inflation

accepting the role of dark money in politics

only beating myself up a little about my contributions to global warming

not caring who takes the Ice Bucket Challenge

wondering who is going to end up paying for any significant increase in the minimum wage

thinking that the U.S. should play no role in the conflict in Ukraine

believing that it is the Iraqis themselves--Shia, Sunni, Kurds--who must come together and defeat ISIL, with the help of money and munitions from a coalition of western and middle eastern nations

opposing Twitter's censoring of the beheading of journalists James Foley and Steven Sotloff

not caring if a record number of foreign-born hold jobs in the USA

engaging in stereotyping and believing that foreign-born medical specialists are ultra-competent

engaging in stereotyping and believing that females are more dependable and conscientious workers than are males

not caring that President Obama will back off on seeking to change immigration policies in order to help Democrats in the next election

not being outraged--or even offended--that Obama played golf shortly after James Foley was beheaded

not caring that Obama played golf during the outbreaks of violence in Ferguson, MO

rather liking Obama's "can't do" attitude

not caring if polygamy is decriminalized in Utah

thinking that the new upscale Denny's in Manhattan should be called Dennis's

believing that nature is indeed heartless--and therefore incapable of being cruel

thinking that humans should get more of their protein content from eating insects

not being upset by Common Core standards and mandatory testing

not believing that Common Core standards and testing will do much to improve education in the U.S.

looking forward to the days when cars can talk to each other and drive themselves

liking the concept of "immersive journalism" that uses virtual reality gaming technology to place viewers/listeners into the scene of news reports

not caring who hosts Meet the Press

loving the story of Mo'ne Davis but suspecting that her 15 innings of fame are over

thinking that replays of close or controversial calls in MLB are good for the game

welcoming the technology that will eventually make umpires obsolete

favoring any changes made to speed up play in MLB

not being concerned that ESPN reported on Michael Sam's locker room showers

thinking that the email from Atlanta Hawks owner Bruce Levenson is not racist but legitimately analytical, seeking to account for poor attendance at Hawks' games and concluding that racism on the part of whites is a primary reason for it

thinking that Janay Rice is right to lambaste the media for ruining her life

believing that the media helps more lives than it ruins

actually enjoying  NBA summer developmental league games on TV

sort of enjoying the shrieks of female tennis players as they strike the ball

not caring whether Johnny Football starts for the Browns

scolding myself whenever I do something old mannish, like grunting involuntarily when I sit down or stand up

classifying Lucy as a comedy 

*****

Recipe For Success

 I'm going to spill the beans here and confess that in my salad days I egged myself on to get a plum job as a top chef, sure that the cream would rise to the top.  I knew it wouldn't be duck soup or a piece of cake or as easy as pie, but I'm not chopped liver and I didn't want to just take pot luck, so  I went the whole hog--sometimes currying favor, I must admit--to get my just desserts.   I wanted to do more than simply put bread on the table, I wanted to bring home the bacon and join the upper crust, be top banana, make the world my oyster, build up a nest egg, hot dog it a little bit.  There's no such thing as a free lunch, and I have no beef with that, but as sure as eggs is eggs, confidence in yourself, if taken with a grain of salt, doesn't mean you believe in pie in the sky and have bitten off more than you can chew and will end up with egg on your face, making a pig's breakfast of everything.  There's something fishy about that.  In a nutshell, that's a red herring.  You can talk turkey without waffling or mincing words.  Still, no matter how I sliced it, I wasn't getting anywhere.  Sure, a watched pot never boils, but I was in a stew.  I tried to keep my sunny side up, but I knew my career there was toast, and that's not just sour grapes.  I remained a line cook year after year.  Too many cooks spoil the broth, and I was not going to be one of them.  I know that one man's meat is another man's poison, but what's sauce for the goose is sauce for the gander and you can't make an omelet without breaking a few eggs.  That's just the way the cookie crumbles. Half a loaf may be better than none for some, but not for me.  I didn't want to be the pot calling the kettle black.  I wasn't going to cry in my beer--that's not my cup of tea--but I wasn't about  to clam up, either.  I had other fish to fry, and I knew what side my bread was buttered on, so I ate my Wheaties, went to the Small Business Administration and sweet-talked them into being my sugar daddy and forking over a loan.  I was all over them like white on rice.  With a little spoon-feeding--nothing cheesy, nothing ham-handed-- I convinced them that they weren't buying a pig in a poke, that I wasn't just the flavor of the month.  I was hoping that they wouldn't punch me in the old bread basket or simply give me mighty thin gruel or small potatoes, and holy guacamole, did they ever drink the Kool-Aid!  They were complete marshmallows!  With the $100K they loaned me, I opened my own restaurant, which I called A Different Kettle of Fish, and after simmering briefly, business mushroomed and boiled over.  Suddenly I had a lot on my plate.  The diners were packed like sardines in my restaurant.  The proof of the pudding is in the eating, and they really put on the old feed bag and porked out.  They licked their plates clean.  They went nuts.  I was the apple of their eye.  I was bacon on a stick.  I was catnip. My crepes sold like hot cakes.  It might to be corny, but here is my philosophy, my chicken soup for the soul: if life hands you lemons, don't eat crow or humble pie, make some damn lemonade. 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Latest comments

29.03 | 17:31

Hi Bruce,
I smiled a lot as I looked! Sometimes I didn't quite understand, other times I did! Keep doing this! You are a fun thinker!

05.07 | 23:04

hi! your blog is really fantastic! you are really lucky to have it. I have one but i did not have a single like apart from me

11.10 | 23:42

No longer pray for an outcome. Just do the footwork, if I can see any. I just pray for the grace to willing accept what the outcome will be.

30.06 | 02:37

yo that is so cool