Tag Archives: experience

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Mistaken Identity

I once had to hire a Production Control clerk, a position that required a certain attention to detail.  The experience was…. interesting, amusing, and educational.

Back before the Interwebz were invented, hand-written and typed applications came flooding in, stapled to resumés, hand-delivered, mailed, and couriered. I didn’t feel that it was a good idea to examine each day’s batch, and then have to go back to review today’s against tomorrow – and tomorrow – and tomorrow.

I set a one-week limit, and blocked out a chunk of Friday afternoon to examine them all.  I had accumulated a pile of 50 applications.  It didn’t take long.  Within an hour, 45 of them were in the garbage.

The winner of the losers was a young man who claimed four years of experience at another, similar, metal-fabrication shop.

ONLY….

Not in Production Control, but as a machine operator in the plant.  He told me that he had put in four years, working for SAIL Engineering.  I would have given him credit for on-the-job training,

ONLY….

The company was founded by a local German family named SEHL, so the company was SEHL Engineering.

ONLY….

Three years before his claimed start date, it was absorbed by a larger corporation, and for the entire four years that he spent there, it was named Ledco.

I couldn’t doubt his employment stint, but I was amazed at his astounding lack of attention to the detail of who had been issuing his paychecks.  Thank you for your submission.  Don’t call us.  We’ll call you.

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Not In My Write Mind

That title is a lie!  I am a writer!  I am always a writer.  I am not sometimes a writer.  I am a writer 24/7/365-1/4.

I am not an author.  My well of inspiration is not deep enough, nor my attention span long enough, but I am a writer.  I have been one almost all my life.  I kept a diary when I was 12.  I have a thick file with Op-Ed letters, and opinion-piece essays that have been submitted to at least three newspapers, a couple of magazines, and various politicians and public figures.

Over the years, I sent hundreds of hand-written and typed, newsy, gossipy letters to family, friends, and neighbors, recounting personal experiences.  Then, finally, along came the internet, and the wife and daughter set me free in the verdant pastures of the blogosphere.  I was in Heaven.

Just because you don’t see me hunched over my keyboard, doesn’t mean that I am not writing.  I am a writer when I am consuming a breakfast of oatmeal and toast, and I’m mentally mulling various verb forms, and searching for alternate adjectives, so that my prose does not become repetitive.

I am a writer when I reluctantly slip back out of bed, after an hour of failed attempts to doze off, just so that I can key in at least the bare bones of a blog-theme idea I just had.  Some people are convinced that they have great ideas while they sleep, so they put a notepad and pen beside their bed to write them down.  Usually, the best they get is  “Mmmffap, bittensnarg klarn.” I wouldn’t even get that.  It seriously irks me to wake up, knowing that I had a great thought before I went to bed, but not be able to recall what it was.  I don’t really have a memory.  It’s more like a forgettery.  🙄

I am writing when I am peacefully reading my newspaper – including the comics, which are social commentary, and also while I solve the crossword puzzle, which provides all kinds of historical, geographical, political, scientific, and entertainment trivia.

I am writing when I am shopping in stores, or driving the streets (Just not with one hand on the steering wheel, and the other massaging a Smartphone or tablet.  I’m dumb, but I ain’t that dumb.) – anywhere I can people-watch and gather grist for my blog-mill.

The crossword puzzle definition of a blog is, an online diary.  In 65 years, I’ve come full circle.  Blessed are they who run around in circles, for they shall be called Big Wheels.  Circle back later for some Friday fun.

😀

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Good Without God

A (relatively) new Atheist at seekinghistruthblog.wordpress.com had some things to say about

BEING A CHRISTIAN VS BEING AN ATHEIST
(MY EXPERIENCE)

Someone asked this in one of my groups:
What does an Atheist claim to see when holding a mirror to their mindset?

This made me think about how I used to feel and think and how I feel and think now.

What I used to see when I was Christian was a broken, sick, failing, struggling, worthless, unworthy, imperfect, felt-like-I-didn’t-belong anywhere, fearful, trapped, did not think I was judgmental but I was, person who was awaiting death to find freedom. The only beauty I saw was in something I was taught was there, but I could never see. I had moments I felt loved, but only when I felt I had asked for forgiveness for being me enough, or tried to be someone I wasn’t enough, which almost destroyed me many times.

What I see as an Atheist is a courageous, beautiful, caring, compassionate, loving, kind, strong, worthy, patient, understanding, nonjudgmental (my judgment resides in a space for when people cause harm to other people and animals for unjust immoral reasons), healing, desire to experience being human, mentally and emotionally free me. I struggle, but my struggles don’t carry so much weight. I fail, but I keep trying and see that each failure is one step closer to success. I’m imperfect but now realize that perfection doesn’t exist, as we are all so beautifully unique. I see beauty in this world I never saw before. I see me!

When all you have is God, you lose so much of your own humanity chasing a nonexistent deity and suppressing yourself. You lose more in a lifetime than you could ever imagine. Those spaces in my life when I was a Christian were stolen from me, as I was indoctrinated as a small child. It was time I could have experienced being human and not living in constant fear, inner turmoil, guilt-ridden, pain, and suffering, all coated in “God loves me and wants me to be this way or that, or I’ll burn in hell forever.” While I was singing, My chains have been loosed; I was carrying the heaviest of them on my shoulders. A burden I should’ve never had to bear.

This cat is no longer a Republican kitten, because their eyes are opened.  I think that they’ve come a long way, in a short time.  What do you think?  😀

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’23 A To Z Challenge – F

An author who had moved to southwest Texas was complaining about

FIRE ANTS

and wanted to know how to get rid of them.  The son kindly offered the advice that, napalm is usually sufficient, but to be really sure, sometimes thermonuclear is required.

While the arc of my life has not been a bright, brilliant, meteoric one, still, I am happy and satisfied with it.  I have run a good race.  I would very much like to keep running a little longer, although nowadays it’s more like just a fast shuffle.

As I approach 80, I am not morose about the inevitability that the end is approaching.  It’s just that I don’t get the feeling that “it’s over.”  There are still many things that I wish to do and see and experience.  I don’t want the ride to be finished.

It’s a feeling that many of us get, and it’s not just about our mortality.  I recently ran into a frilly little word which describes the emotion.

FINIFUGAL

Finifugal /fan· ee ·fyoo ·gal/ adj. Definition: The word finifugal is an adjective that describes a person who prolongs or tries to put off emotional endings.  It’s probably one reason why so many people ghost the end of their romantic relationships.

We’ve all experienced this feeling.  Finifugal is the resistance to the end of something.  As long as we’re living, we’re moving – and as long as I’m moving, I’m living.  I fully intend to take a couple of victory laps – but not any time soon.  I have a blogpost planned for The Last Time, as a bookend for The First Time one that I did some years ago.  I am pleasantly surprised by the small number of things that I’ve had to stop.

You keep coming around to read, and I’ll keep finding (allegedly) interesting things to blather about.

EXCELSIOR!

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Dr. Who’s Questions

The Doctor (He doesn’t say, ‘of what.’) claims that he just wants to ask some respectful questions of Atheists – no trick or gotcha ones.  He wants to amass the information, and sift and sort it, to produce a published report.  When asked when he might submit it, and to whom, he was delightfully vague.

He and his wife were Atheists, until each of them had a revelation from the Christian God, and they became Jews For Jesus.  His questions natter on and on – and on, full of presuppositions and leading statements.  Another blogger graciously simplified the list, although I included part of his number six, for context and clarity.  I thought I’d have a go at them.

  • Is Your Atheism Based on Study or Experience? …

Yes!, to both.  As young as seven or eight, I regarded stories that started with “In The Beginning” to be no more believable than those that began, “Once Upon A Time.”  I didn’t realize until I became an adult myself, that other children, and adults, took them seriously.  I became curious enough to begin a long-term investigation.  I spent a great deal of time looking at arguments for or against God’s existence, and eventually had to conclude that there just wasn’t any evidence for God that stood up to examination.

  • Do You Have Purpose and Destiny? …

Yes.  I have had many ‘Purposes,” and will probably have more before I die, but each of them was created and affixed by me, or those close to me, not by some supernatural entity.  I believe that I have a destiny.  It’s just that I am not enough of a fortune-teller to see far enough into the future to get a clear glimpse of what it might be.

  • Does God Exist? …

This might seem a strange question to be asking of Atheists.  In the original long-winded version, he wanted Atheists to provide total, complete, 100% proof, that there was absolutely no chance that God exists.  This is the philosophical equivalent to home invasion.  There are almost no things that can be utterly proved not to exist.  He appeared to want a tiny gap, where he could wedge his definition of God into.  I consider the possibility of God existing, only slightly more likely than the existence of a married bachelor.

  • Can Science Explain the Origin of Life? …

Science has explained the origin of life!  There is one major, largely-accepted (by biologists and related scientists) theory, and a couple of minor variations.  They all entail the chemical soup present in early Earth seas, with geothermal energy and solar radiation fueling and mutating the chemical reactions, until self-replicating RNA strands evolved upward to cells and DNA.  All that free energy powered the increasing DNA complexity.

  • Have You Questioned Your Atheism? …

Constantly and continuously!  I have never been convinced that I can’t be wrong.  Over the years I have done considerable reading and study.  Now, with YouTube, I can watch debates and lectures.  Atheism is merely the lack of belief in God/gods – the failure by theists to provide sufficiently convincing evidence.  (See above) With all the research and investigation that I have done, I continue not to be convinced that God is guilty of existing.

  • Are You Materialistic? …
    Are you completely materialistic in your mindset, meaning, human beings are entirely physical, human consciousness is an illusion, and there is no spiritual realm of any kind?

First, a pedantic language lesson, I think that phrasing should be ‘are you a materialist?’. ‘Materialistic’ refers to someone who prioritizes obtaining money and possessions!  I believe that humans, and all else within our Universe, are material.  I don’t think it makes much sense to say that consciousness is an illusion.  I think a more accurate phrasing of the materialist position on consciousness would be that it’s the product of material things/physical laws.  I continue to see no evidence of a spiritual realm of any kind, except in the hopes and dreams of the gullible.  I do not believe in tarot, Ouija boards, crystals, ghosts, mind-reading, fortune-telling, or a miracle-producing God.

  • Would You Be Willing to Follow the God of the Bible?

It depends which part of the Bible you’re talking about when you say ‘God of the Bible’.

From reading the earlier part of the Old Testament, I remember a god laden with petty jealousy, orchestrating hideous mass deaths, with archaic views on rape and slavery and some strange gaps in his scientific knowledge. The existence of this god would be bad news.

In the later part of the Old Testament, I glimpsed a different and better kind of god; the god of Ezekiel 18 and similar passages, expecting us to take personal responsibility but also willing to see our virtues and our efforts and to judge us fairly. The existence of this god would be good news, and, yes, I would follow and honor him.

In the New Testament, we get the most hideous god of all; the one who condemns all non-Christians to an eternity of torment, who blames the Jews for sticking to the laws that He himself strictly instructed them to keep to forever, who expects us to overlook the ways he acted back in the early books, and who tries to convince us that all these things are really signs of great love and concern on his part. The existence of this god would be terrible news. And, to answer the question, I could never honor such a god, and while I suppose I’d follow him because ‘Or burn in hell’ isn’t really much of an option, it would never be willingly.

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Flash Fiction #276

 

PHOTO PROMPT © Anne Higa

IN VINO VERTIGO

Try some tequila they said.  Experience something new.  Waking up on a couch, not knowing who owned it, or where I am, was new.  I had to put a hand on the floor, to stop the room whirling around.  That water-tower outside the window better settle down, too, because I don’t know where the bathroom is.

At the Miracle of Fatima, several people said they experienced visions, and the sun moved around in the sky.  I can believe it.  Didn’t that happen in Mexico, where tequila is king?  I have a vision of Coors Lite for me, from now on.

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If you’d like to join the Friday Fictioneers fun, go to Rochelle’s Addicted to Purple site and use her Wednesday photo as a prompt to write a complete 100 word story.

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Fibbing Friday Ate

Pensitivity101 has found that restraining orders do not work on me.  I was released on bail after my last assault on truth, into the custody of WordPress, and immediately stole another list of prompts to satisfy my perverted desires with.  The Language Police have been alerted, and they’ve dispatched a tactical team.  Until they get here, here’s a little something to amuse and entertain you.

  1. What is usually shaken and not stirred?
    Me, when I’m trying to have my afternoon nap.
    The dogs are in the back yard, barking at the neighbor.
    Fine! Tell them to stop.
  2. Who was Dr. No?
    My doctor, after she learned my true weight. 😯
    No sugar!
    No carbs!
    No snacks!
    No beer!
    No shit??! And No reason to go on living.
  3. What is a Thunderball?
    It is the eventual, inevitable, gastronomic result of a big meal of beef and bean burritos. A YOLO Yahoo, with loose track pants, a Bic lighter, and no shame, can turn one into a Lightning Strike.
  4. Who sang ‘For Your Eyes Only?’
    It was a duet, by Ray Charles and (Little) Stevie Wonder. 😎
  5. What does ‘M’ stand for?
    It’s the Roman numeral for 1000
    If I’ve told you once, Double-O Seven, I’ve told you a thousand times, the Secret Service Medical Division is going bankrupt, curing these “Tropical Diseases” that you keep picking up. Only take your Walther PPK, not your Little Walter, out of your pants.
  6. What snack did ‘Q’ almost lose when showing off one of his latest gadgets?
    A bowl of kimchee with a haggis smoothie.
  7. What was sent from Russia with Love?
    Trump’s third (Or was it fourth??) Stepford wife, Malignant Melanoma Maleficent Malign Ya Melania.
  8. What scares the living daylights out of you?
    Politicians!! The best candidate for any position is the one who needs to be dragged, kicking and screaming, into office. I’m not exactly full of sunlight – or unicorn rainbows – to have it forced out of me.  In response to most politicians, it’s often a darker substance, exiting a lower orifice.

We used to be able to tell when Politicians lied to us – their lips moved.  Things have changed.  Now, they talk more, and say less.  Recently, Ted Cruz marathoned a 23-hour filibuster.  I didn’t see the text.  I’m told that it was a Seinfeld speech – all about nothing.  It might have been a monolog about how fortunate, happy, and proud he was to have been born in Canada, to a Mexican mariachi-player father.

  1. What does a Moonraker do?
    It smoothed out the biggest (so far) sand trap in the Solar system, 50 years ago, after Alan Shepard hit some golf balls during the Apollo 14 NASA Lunar mission.
  2. What is You Only Live Twice about?
    It’s the book my wife wrote about my aggressive driving habits. “Getting There” is not half the fun, to me. Time spent on the road, is time wasted.  I’ll be out on the highway, in the fast lane, passing big-rigs like they’re pulling in for a piss-break.  Suddenly, in the center turn-around lane, I’ll spot a County-Mountie – Kojak with a Kodak – a State-trooper with a radar gun.

Quickly I slow to almost the legal limit – and hope.  Will he??….  Is he??….  Did he?
NO!!!  He didn’t pull out.

That’s when I live twice.  I experience the reality first, and then I have that segment flash before my eyes a second time.

The truth is, I’m getting pretty good with these lists – if I do say so myself.  In a couple of days I’ll post something that doesn’t need to be strained through a lie-detector.  😀

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Mistaken Identity

It’s a pandemic of poseur, Pocahontas Pretendians.  America has had a recent deluge of government functionaries at all levels, falsely claiming to have Native Heritage.  It happened again!  Two more Canadian female Federal politicians, one of them the Assistant Minister of Indigenous Affairs, have been found to be pretending to have Native blood.

This goes back as far as around 1900, when an English writer came to Canada, became a trapper, called himself Grey Owl, and lived with two different Indian women to get experience and information to write a book about ‘Being An Indian.’

In the 1970s, an Italian-American styled himself as an Indian named Iron-Eyes Cody.  The government even paid him to be in an ecological TV advertisement about keeping the highways clean by not throwing trash out of cars.

While there was money to be made, these two were unusual.  Until about fifty years ago, it was considered quite déclassé for a white person to be deemed even partly indigenous, any more than being thought to be even partly Negro.

Slowly that changed.  Twenty years ago, Eileen Edwards, a white chick from Windsor, called herself Shania Twain, in celebration of her non-existent Native Heritage.  Ten years ago, Justin Bieber claimed that he was enough Indian to get free gasoline, when even full-blooded natives had to pay.

It’s become a cottage industry.  Scarcely a week goes by without another claimant being exposed.  It’s hardly an official diagnosis, but I have been told that it is a form of Indigenous Munchausen’s.  People who are nothing and nobody as a white person, claim Native background and receive sympathy as a member of an oppressed minority.  They get undeserved respect, more than their fifteen minutes of fame, and often, impressive and well-paying positions.

It’s often unclear whether these people are intentionally lying, or whether they actually believe their delusions.  A little from Column A (Or here in Canada, Column Eh.), a little from Column B.

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Perfect One-Liners

A perfectionist walked into a bar….
….Apparently it wasn’t set high enough.

My professor accused me of plagiarism….
….His words, not mine.

During the COVID pandemic….
….Is not the time to surround yourself with positive people.

I’m in an open marriage….
….I just found out.

How do you stop a bull from charging?….
….You just unplug it.

The leading cause of dry skin….
….Is towels.

My wife and I had this long, pointless argument about which vowel is most important….
….I won.

People say that time is money….
….I don’t buy that for a second.

My wife asked if I had seen the dog bowl….
….I said, No, I didn’t know he could.

I got assaulted by a mime for having a spasm….
….He thought I was heckling.

I wish everything was as easy as….
….Getting fat.

I asked my therapist if driving my car 100 MPH was an emotional problem….
….She asked me to pay two weeks in advance.

My wife says she’s going to leave me because of my addiction to poker….
….But I think she’s bluffing.

What do you call someone who can’t stick to a diet?….
….A desserter.

Old age is when you’re faced with two temptations….
….And you choose the one that will get you home by nine o’clock.

The trouble with learning from experience….
….Is that you never graduate.

Wait! One day at a time….
….Like, FOREVER??!

I tried starting up a hot-air balloon company….
….But it never took off.

I’m great at multi-tasking….
….I can waste time, be unproductive, and procrastinate, all at once.

My wife said, “Look at this.  I haven’t worn this in years, and it still fits.”….
….I said, “It’s a scarf.”

If only Sarcasm….
….Burned calories

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’21 A To Z Challenge – C

(The un-named) They say that curiosity killed the cat, but I say that some curiosity, mixed with a healthy dose of skepticism, and cynicism, can prevent you from becoming a manipulator’s cat’s-paw.

I once worked as a Purchasing Agent for a Bernie Madoff-wannabe owner of a small business – a little metal stamping shop with 25 plant employees.  He apparently had dreams of more and larger automotive contracts, a bigger plant, and 250 employees – or 2500…. Or 25,000!  😯

He had loyalty and honesty only for himself and his company, and no commercial morality.  Management staff were told not to ever allow any barricades to his business – “over, under, through or around.  Don’t come to me with problems!  Come to me with solutions.  Rules are for fools.”

I hired a young man in his early 20s, as a Production Control Clerk.  He was getting married, and he asked the company President for a mere two days off, for an abbreviated honeymoon.  The boss gave him an extended lecture about how he should not even get married.  He should reserve his time and energy for the company.

The Boss was on his second wife.  I don’t know why they bothered to marry – social propriety??!  He put in 12-hour weekdays, often 8-hour Saturdays, and sometimes came in on Sunday.  I don’t know if they ever dined together.  She was a Middle Manager, putting in lots of hours herself, and had girlfriends and hobbies.  He had…. the company – and a disturbing habit of drinking in his office at the end of workday.  He often chivvied me and other staff to remain and keep him and his booze company.  😦

Back in 1982, debit cards didn’t exist, and credit cards weren’t common.  One day he asked me if I had a credit card.  I answered, yes.  “Well, you should get yourself another one.”  Why??!  “So that, when I tell you to buy something for the company, you can keep the charges separate.”

He was already paying 30-day invoices at 120 days.  He expected me to use a personal card to purchase company supplies??!  What assurance was there that I would ever be reimbursed?  I quietly declined to get sucked in.

One day, he wisely decided to computerize the entire office system. (Yes, there was a time when computers weren’t everywhere.)  He hired a tech-nerd who could do the job.  Coincidentally, the guy just happened to have experience in the Purchasing field.

He interrogated other office staff, but, for three weeks he spent a lot of time with me, finding how I had set up my process.  Finally, the boss came to me and said, “Business is slow right now.  You’ve got your paperwork well-organized.  If I give him some assistance, Roscoe and I can handle it.  I’m scheduling your hours to zero for now.  You don’t need to come in.

I never even got fired.  He just stopped paying me.  Losing any job and its income can be quite traumatic, but I was actually (eventually) happy not to be employed at this one, when the police, or the bankruptcy bailiffs, showed up.  Rules are for fools eventually killed him, when he violated flight regulations and splashed a rented 4-seater all over a friend’s pasture.