It’s a fact that about 8 billion flowers lose their lives every Valentine’s Day. These flowers are plucked from their mundane existence to be heartfelt or hopeful (wink, wink) gestures of affection on this landmark day every year.
What did they do to deserve this? Nothing – just being in the wrong place at the wrong time. Their only hope is that someone may not have enough money to spring for dinner, chocolates, AND flowers. Flowers are hoping the sweet tooth wins out.
The flower organizations have run PR campaigns like “Candy is dandy, and flowers are only fine.” Flowers are not deserving of their long, slow, agonizing death of 3, 5, 7 or 10 days before their demise, so the flower lobby is REALLY big on gift cards.
I know a lot of you are like me and get involved in way too many things or organizations. Some of you may not be involved in any, so if you aren’t, let me share how everything works.
In the beginning, God created the heavens and the earth. After that, He created Adam and the creatures of the earth (which He let Adam name). As they were named, the only one left without a name they called “consultant,” which in Greek means “facilitator.”
What do consultants do, and what is their natural habitat, you ask? They appear at corporate brainstorming sessions, Chamber of Commerce planning retreats, conference buzz sessions, or the infamous “strategic planning,” as lists are compiled on big sheets on tear-away pads, and then torn off to be taped, glued, or pinned to the wall for observation by the whole group.
As they pass out a sheet with red stick-on dots to each member in the room, the crowd roar gets quieter and quieter. Maybe upon these walls is the idea that will save the world, revolutionize modern history, make the blind see or bald grow hair, or maybe a feel0good notion that will get us to a break… I know I have calls, texts, and Facebook posts that need attention. After all, I’ve done this so many times now, in so many places, for so many reasons that I’ve almost given up hope that “A Red Dot Can Save the World.”
Merry Christmas and Happy New Year!!!
On a recent trip while on a Southwest flight, I had the bad luck of sitting by a group of California bar managers going to Nashville. They shouted back and forth from their various spread-out seats on the plane. Loud and obnoxious would have been bad enough, but these guys and gals had NO FILTER. Women, kids, and gentlemen were subjected to the F-bomb, various curse words, and coarse language. The flight attendants did nothing. A cowboy-looking guy finally stood up and asked them to rise from the gutter, but they of course had to get one last gross comment into the discourse.
Then there was boarding the plane with dyslexics. These women chose to not wait in the line by THEIR number, but cut in front of everybody. Twice, the gate people caught them, but once they got through. Is life that short, ladies?
Of course, on any trip these days, from the bowels (pun intended) of the stalls in the men’s restroom come conversations on cell phones. I wouldn’t do it, but maybe a quick text would be almost OK – but voice conversations… QUIT! How would your business call person like if if they knew you were pontificating from the throne? Yes, I wish I couldn’t get in trouble if I shouted, “Fire in the restroom, evacuate the stalls!” Now, I’m not evil – but don’t tell me you wouldn’t like to do that, also. I did bang on the stall and ask for extra toilet paper… he he he!
Next are these guys who have to give their “play by play” of what’s outside the window of the shuttle bus to the airport. They have in-depth knowledge about enough to fit into a thimble, but they can ALMOST read a billboard (here’s hoping that billboard makers try and keep it simple).
Finally, there’s the waitress who goes out of her way to avoid walking by your table, so she doesn’t have to do iced tea or water refills. I mean, she takes a route that makes “Chutes & Ladders” look like a romp on a yardstick! Her neck might get a crick in it, trying not to make eye contact with your table. If you have a party of five, she wants to automatically add in the tip on the check because she has no shame (or doesn’t get many good tips).
In all fairness and full disclosure, I encountered lots of wonderful people, great employees providing superb customer service, and mostly people with manners and Southern hospitality on my trip. But I can understand where the famous saying “Kiss my grits” came about, and why…
People, we have almost lost our way of life and don’t even know it.
I’m scared for my grandkids’ future. Look around at all this disrespect and no boundaries in decorum. People need to understand that the police are there for a reason, and to obey them in a respectful way. Are there some police who overstep? Yes, but 98% of them don’t, and if you are respectful and heed their commands, NOTHING will happen to you.
These people put their lives on the line to protect you, so don’t go punk on them over nothing. For some things in life, there should be a punishment as a consequence. This concept is fading in our entitlement society.
A huge example is last year’s Heisman trophy winner, Jameis Winston of Florida State University. He chose to forget about his responsibility as a role model, a university representative, and student/scholarship grantee when he stood upon a table in the student union and yelled obscene remarks, causing a huge problem.
His so-called “punishment” was supposed to be a half-game suspension, but it was upped to a full-game suspension. Then this fiasco started. He suited up in full pads, then walked out and other people had to herd this punk back into the locker room. He still kept his jersey on while he went back out and hammed it up in front of a national television office for the whole game. He was even in sideline huddles. WHAT A JOKE!!!
He should be sitting in the stands in street clothes with maybe one or two (at the most) camera shots all during the game. This would focus on the 99% NOT suspended and who are doing what’s expected of them.
We need more punishment and less punks. We need to quit coddling these athletes and hit ‘em where it hurts – not being on the field or in front of a camera.