Seasonal Employments Hope Abandoned

Long ago, in the last century anyway,  I had a cross country coach who taught me how to properly prepare and run a race.  He must have succeeded in his lessons, since I set the freshman record for cross country that year.  Later in that year, he told me that I would need to make a choice between running and the hockey that I was playing at the time.

I not only left running, but the school that I was in at the end of that year.  I went on to Mount Carmel High School in Chicago, where I not only got a better education, but continued to play hockey for three years at an amateur level, and at a high school level.

Of course I also managed to break my nose a couple of times, cracked a few ribs. eventually lost a tooth when a stick was smashed across my face, and fractured the patella in my left knee.

Smart people often tell you smart, and perfectly good things, at the wrong time, and for the wrong reason; ending up with achieving the goal that they least desire.

My hope is that this introductory piece is not just such a misguided effort  ...

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With Labor Day now behind us, we have Halloween, Thanksgiving, and of course, Christmas (or Hanukkah) to look forward to.  My plans for the Holidays may have changed however, owing to time and circumstance.  There was once a time, in fact, when by now, I was already hoping for an application as a 'Santa Substitute' (perhaps for "Victoria's Secret").  Of course there wasn't much actual  hope in obtaining such a position, in spite of the fact that my girth had been increasing on a regular basis for a number of years, and my hair and beard were achieving a 'uniform monochromatic color' without the use of any dyes. 

My status with the Social Security Bureau however changed a great deal during the intervening period  (no explanation required or forthcoming).  Though my hair color has remained its largely its monochromatic color,  my girth has been decreasing steadily in recent days (through no fault of my own, believe me).

Further change potentially occurred when I relocated back to Columbus, Ohio.  Of course, having moved from Chicago, to Kansas City (the first time), to Columbus (also the first time), to Cleveland (for the job), to LaGrange, Georgia, to Toledo (all again for the job), back to Kansas City, and now back into Columbus; one might say that I am a well traveled man by moving companies alone.

Greater still is the information that has now determined that there are over ninety choices available in terms of gender.  (I have been out of circulation a bit, OK I guess.)  Now having grown up in the Dark Days when there were only two (this was right after Gutenberg invented movable type), I found that these new and apparently limitless possibilities to be rather confusing.  (I can't even imagine the consternation that it might have caused with patrons at Victoria's Secret.)  Before any application could be received (or as usual .... not), I was forced to reject it, or even consider it.

One cannot but note in passing, that if  such rules had been followed during 'Old Testament' times, that Noah might have needed a bigger boat to work with.

(I'm just saying  ...)

Imagine then my concern however, when I realized could that with over ninety choices in the potential recommendation list of gifts, it would be a nearly impossible task. The potential hazard of faulty choices could increase disappointment of those involved (the parents, not the children); if not ultimately produce potential personal litigation.

I am now faced with the choice of either a early seasonal reduction of the size of the beard, the removal thereof; or to face the disappointed looks of  nearby 'crumb crunchers' for months to come over my appearance.  (The potential of disappointed patrons of Victoria's Secret is something that I have yet to consider the ramifications!)  Acceptance of such supposed 'theories' (which have yet to show me proof and are liable to change) leaves me in a position where I don't know whether I want to scream, laugh hysterically, or both ... alternately.

Since I no longer have a column for a weekly in a newspaper, nor a career in connecting the printing press with the loading dock at a daily newspapers, nor even one of selling machines that put inserts into newspapers, nor even one as simple as putting magazines together with staples or selling machines that do  (I used to pump gas and check oil years ago as well, but remember we're talking about the last century); the problem of reaching answers to these somewhat amazing, but terribly amusing situations is weighing even more so on me than the current issues political issues of the Middle East, in North Korea, or in which of out last Presidential candidates is in the most trouble with the Congress, the Mainstream Media, or the FBI, (or all three).

Now I haven't done much of this blogging in a couple of years; and in the time since, have learned that my judgment on many things may, in fact, be far from sound ... through lack of regular use (though I ultimately believe in it).  It gives me cause to question such things and obtain (and test) other opinions.  Now I have always been willing to listen to such things, but never been known for requiring as to them.  Now I may have to try to give it a shot ... in proof that I have changed positively (at least this once). 

I'm not a big fan of encouraging turning random control while writing mode, but what the hell.  So while the floor appears to be open, take your best shot ...