…said the lady blocked in by a careless woman in the Starbucks parking lot. It’s just a minute I thought to myself…then again does anyone have a right to steal your minutes thoughtlessly, selfishly. I would never think of parking in a manner that blocked other cars, even for a minute. So why do some people think it’s ok?
Life is like a huge harbor, we are the boats. Most of us travel through the harbor carefully, avoiding the wake that disturbs the other boats. Others create wakes that upset all the boats around them. Do they know…do they care?
I want to live in a harbor where there are no wakes; I want all my minutes back.
That’s Phil Coke, a pitcher for the New York Yankees. What he is referring to the old school unwritten rule that you do not show up the opposing team. In other words there are consequences. Those damn consequences. He could have been talking about life itself as almost nothing you do escapes the sting of that well placed fastball.
I think you could make the case that when you realize this you have turned the corner onto the path towards adulthood. Everything you do, everything you say and absolutely everything you write can come back either to haunt or support you.
One of the most flagrant recent examples of Cokes’ Law is the sorry story about Penn State’s legendary football coach, Joe Paterno. This man should have died a hero and an example to aspiring football coaches everywhere, instead he got one right in the ribs. Whether he was oblivious, enabling, weak or protective he did not weigh the consequences. I still love ya Joe
Met a chap this morning interested in getting his son a jeep. Hoping not to steer him wrong I pointed him to the TJ series made between 1997 and 2006. This series has two very good reasons to consider it as a worthy gift. Coil suspension replaced the bouncy leaf springs and more importantly….the legendary 4.0l in line six cylinder engine. 270,000 miles and counting. Every single mile put on lovingly by me baby. So I would say to my friend….get him that jeep. It could be the difference between your son putting you in a high end old folks home or the kind of place you hear about on the evening news!
I had two moms, one I never met and one who raised me. Not bad for a dumbass born in Philadelphia. My birth mom, who I discovered quite accidentally, sounds like a wonderful woman who raised a whole passel of kids under somewhat difficult conditions. I wish I had met her.
The mom who raised me steered a smaller brood through somewhat different obstacles, but obstacles are obstacles. She did a masterful job, she was a wonderful mom.
I wish they had met. I wish I had them both…I sure as hell needed it.
Happy Mothers day to all of my friends who have done what has always seemed not only nearly impossible but the biggest gamble in life….raising children.
To all my friends, my dear departed mother(s), my sister Karen, my ex, Liz…to all who have embarked on the path to ensuring we have decent and promising future.
From The Merriam-Webster Thesaurus…..showing a lack of manners or consideration for others.
Daily life is full of little indignities that can either sink in or be ignored. My advice is to ignore them. What is preventable is the rude behavior heaped on we good people by those who don’t know better or don’t care. I, like many, hold doors open for people. I expect a thank you and supply it myself if I don’t get it. Not getting one will never prevent me from doing it again.
I am not alone in telling people that you can learn all you need to know about someone by how they treat those that serve us in stores, restaurants and bars. And by the way, isn’t it a mark of some degree of stupidity when one is rude to the person serving you food?
The excuse that one is just that way, to intellectually involved in saving the planet or too important sounds like….I am a huge asshole, to me. Anyway, that is my rant for today after spending time at Starbucks and mostly hearing thank you.
From page 1 of Strunk and Whites “The Elements of Style”. And so today I am going to scratch my own.
I gave the dive bar around the corner from Bocks a second, a third and a fourth try. Mostly to watch hockey and give Gordon a chance to write, but also to see if I was wrong about my harsh treatment of it in an earlier post.
Not only was I wrong but I was indefensibly self-centered. Not the first dive bar you’ve been in and it won’t be the last……my old buddy Barry reminded me.
This bar opened in the 50’s, kinda like me, and owes me nothing. I have to earn my right to be treated like a regular, treat the tenders respectfully as well as the other bar stool warmers. Tip the help and listen to the regulars, pay my dues and then judge the place and its inhabitants.
So here I go…I like it now because I get it. The bartendress with the multi-colored hair is a decent person who has been swatted around by life. She immigrated from St. Peterburgh, Russia at age 11; her parents are alcoholics. She is careful around strangers. I respect her now. I just wish I didn’t jump to conclusions so much. It’s better to arrive at them.