After spending nearly three months attempting to lasso a copy of my birth certificate, the department of records finally sent me – after political intervention — two copies. However, both possessed the absolutely wrong month and day.
And all my mother could exhale was: Meshugga.
I told her: “
Meanwhile after paying a lawyer hundreds of dollars to expunge my ex-wife’s spurious felony charges that the DA soon dropped for lack of any credibility, the court clerk sent my documents to an incorrect address. Not the one both my lawyer and I had each correctly written down and clearly listed.
Obviously the clerk’s aim was no closer to the mark than my birth certificate.
Neither blunder – and so many, many more we all are forced to endure — is an honest mistake. And it wasn’t simply a result of ineptitude. It is purely an adulterated act of people doing a half-assed job in a kingdom of the blind, dumb, stoopid and unhappy.
Happiness, I understand, is an inside job.
I think… No, make that: I know… Most people quit looking for ‘work’ as soon as they found their jobs.
And most people are unhappy, not only with their jobs, but with their lives, which they don’t see being as glamorous as the celebrities who are getting divorced for the third time.
Most folks may not know what they want, but they definitely know they don’t want the life they got. Yet we lack the diligence and grit to change our situation. Hell, we barely bother to vote. All we really do, in one way or another, is buy lottery tickets — lots of them.
And since misery loves company, you and I and all the other suffering beasts of burden are here and there to be made miserable.
Hmm…obviously, masochism is a valuable job skill.
I know I am merely stating what all of us have long thought. That is, this is nothing new. But with the debacle of the roll-out of ‘Obamacare,’ it brings to mind that nothing succeeds without a leader – a leader who makes it clear as Joshua did to Jericho that failure is not an option. That if you have a job without any aggravations, you obviously don’t work for me. And, if you concentrate on your job you will forget your other troubles – like that unemployed lump farting from the sofa.
The trouble seems to be that no one is really in charge anymore. No one — especially Obama – maintains control. That is, except when some big oil and gas company wants to get ‘fracking’ pumped down our backyards. Then, money gets everyone industriously goose-stepping down Broadway. Amazing how we can all be bought and sold for a few pieces of silver.
Indeed, money makes us wetter than our dreams.
How few of us would be working at our jobs if it wasn’t for the compensation? Would we work for free for a week or two to save the business that supposedly enslaves us?
But of course! I mean, doesn’t it seem we should be passionate about our work, first?
In the end, our laziness triggers our grand delusions and perfidy. We start lying – not only to cover our pocked marked asses — but worse than that, we lie to the clown in our bathroom mirror. And we continue the lie until we don’t recognize our self-deception. Then we are so damn far out at sea we don’t even comprehend which way to swim to get back to shore.
It’s not that we only lack standards it’s that without standards we don’t even grasp what is substandard. And those times when we might, it takes a lot of might to speak up.
Gary, for example. He’s that good-looking cop who has never seen a reflection of himself he didn’t adore. The other day we were blowing cigar smoke at one another. He was dressed dapperly in a grey civilian suit highlighted by a silk tie because he spent the day testifying before a grand jury.
It involved the crime scene investigation – which is Gary’s job – of a great looking young babe found dead in the bathtub of a Philadelphia lawyer whose name is well- known because his father was the lawyer who put the fame in the name.
The detective in charge wanted to simply sign off the case – that is, dismiss it –as a bathtub drowning because the woman had more alcohol in her veins than blood – enough to kill even an Irishman. There were putatively no signs of a struggle. And the lawyer had been down at his shore house at the time. Cell phone texting had been identified.
But Gary, even though he happened to know the lawyer, takes great pride in his work. To Gary, the power to investigate is a great public trust. The Crime Scene Investigator had his suspicions, otherwise known as doubts. And, it is by doubting that we come to investigate. And by investigating we come closer to the truth.
In other words, to Gary something was amiss.
For instance, Gary wondered who goes anywhere these days – even to take a bath — without their cell phone. Yet the phone was found in the adjoining bedroom laying under a dressing chair. And as to her texting: Most of our clumsy thumbs and stubby fingers make regular mistakes even when we are sober. Yet this woman’s texts, as drunk as her blood demonstrated, were without error.
Then there was the matter of her clothes. They weren’t drunkenly strewn about, but neatly arranged and folded. Furthermore there was an old condom discovered and fingerprints were never checked against the lawyer or the possibility of anyone else. And finally there was the towel found under her feet. If she had reached for it, it shouldn’t have ended up where it was. Gary was suspicious that someone could have used it to clean up and then tossed it to where it lay.
At the Grand Jury hearing Gary was queried as to why he didn’t recuse himself from the investigation because of his acquaintance with the lawyer. At that Gary’s pride got personal. It was a matter of integrity. He had at first suggested he should be recused. But then he reminded the investigating lawyer and the members of the Grand Jury that it was he who had raised the questions. Not anybody else.
‘It is not my integrity that should be called into question,” explained Gary. “I take pride in my work.”
In other words he was the Doubting Thomas. He was the one who was thinking where others weren’t. Thinking wasn’t in their union contract. They just wanted to ‘close’ another case, before it got cold.
Isn’t that the way of our world? Take the easy way. Assume the conventional view which only serves to protect us from the painful job of thinking.