"Pride goeth before a fall," it is said. But it's an incomplete statement. It should read, "False pride goeth before a fall."
There's an important distinction there. People are entitled to feel pride but it must be pride which is well deserved, otherwise, it will create problems for the poor slob. Especially once the falsity is discovered by others.
I submit to you that pride, well-placed and well-deserved, is a good thing. It motivates. It creates desire for further achievement and excellence. If you step back to look at something you've done and you see that it's very wonderful, it's okay to feel a sense of pride at your accomplishment. To feel that all is well in the world because you're in it now. To know that when you put your foot forward, good things come about.
Problems come when people attempt to express pride in something which is not theirs to claim.
Another problem with pride comes when, though an accomplishment is the result of the hard work and talent of the individual and he or she has every right to be proud of it, there is sometimes a tendencey to NOT stay motivated and cease to work on new or better things. Ever been in a conversation with a person who says, "I remember once when I . . . ." Yeah? But what have you done since then? Recently? Dwelling on past success is okay but working toward future success is something deserving of renewed pride while old pride is decaying with the passage of time.
Another human error which can happen while feeling pride is to forget to acknowledge the hand of others in one's success. Yeah, you may have done a boatload of hard work and you may have demonstrated great talent, but could you have gotten there without the condescension of other people? Other's providing you your instruction, patience, facilities, resources, etc.?
One final rambling thought is that boasting and bragging is a very offensive practice. Yeah, it's okay to FEEL pride but telling everyone about it when it isn't appropriate is not necessarily going to score you points with them, especially if you're all about claiming credit for an accomplishment instead of acknowledging the aid you received from others. Bosses do it rather frequently. A pat on the back brings no mention of the secretaries and assistants who did the leg work. Granted, the manager did a fabulous job creating and bringing together resources but even the greatest ideas are worthless without some muscle behind it.
That muscle power needs to be acknowledged.
Segway that discussion into one about humility. After basking in the glow of your own pride, time to move on and get some more things done, some more kudos to add to your curriculum vitae. I have to point out that many if not most things which are done exceptionally well and deserve to be pointed out with pride are done by people who love to do what they do. Such people WILL move on and continue doing exceptional things. They are to be revered and respected, to be sure. They feel pride in their excellence, but it doesn't stop them from continuing to be excellent and to become more so as time goes on.
A truly humble person will continue to develop their abilities and their strengths and as they do so, their reasons to be proud will continue.
--Wag--
Friday, May 21, 2004
The Golden Rule
The Golden Rule (TM) has long been a favorite of Christianity and philosphers trying to characterize and codify human morals.
As far as I can tell, Buddhists don't often know about the Golden Rule or don't care about it if they hear of it. I could be wrong, but I believe Buddhists simply say, "Treat people well and you'll be treated well." I like the simplicity and the implied cause and effect approach of that but I digress. Not to mention, I'm not the least bit qualified to discuss Buddhism in depth.
What is the Golden Rule? It says, and I gleefully paraphrase, "Do unto others as you would have them do unto you." Essentially, the Golden Rule is a simplified code of ethics but as you'll see below, it has serious pitfalls.
Christians, using the Golden Rule, attempt to explain WHY you should treat people well. The reason is very selfish, not the least bit altruistic: Selfishness. Self-centeredness. Treat people well simply because you hope they are also going to treat you well? Okay, I realize there is a subtle difference between the Golden Rule and the "Buddhist" philosophy I quoted above. But the difference IS there, barely noticeable, and determined to look innocent while in reality, lying in wait to deceive, as it were.
The implication is, if you treat someone well, you should expect them to treat you well. Or worse, if you treat someone badly, you could expect reprisals from them. Hogwash. How could anyone possibly imply that because you treat them a certain way, the other guy would or should respond in kind? I think it's a naive point of view and it baldly implies that everyone is going to act like you do. That won't happen unless we all become robots who act exactly the same 'cause we all have the same programming.
Absurd.
Just 'cause you treat a person badly is no reason to believe he will abandon some code of ethics to which he holds in order to avenge himself on you. Nor should one be so naive as to assume that if you treat a person well he will abandon a life of crime and suddenly start treating you like a saving saint. (Okay, it happens, but rarely.) In fact, to assume either of those premises to be true would be grossy prejudicial and inconsiderate.
And here's the worst part of the Golden Rule: It assumes, much like the above, that how YOU want to be treated is how other people want to be treated. Pigs' swill. It's a very lazy way to shuffle off responsibility for other people from you to . . . the other person? I can't imagine that how *I* wish to be treated is the same way everyone else wishes to be treated. Okay, maybe a few, but not all and probably not very many, either.
Bear in mind, I've taken a Devil's Advocate position here in hacking at the Golden Rule. In essence, however, it's only flawed when put into practice in an unthinking way. But if used by thoughtful, intelligent people, it has a great deal of value. Most people who espouse the Golden Rule really haven't put a lot of thought into it. They misinterpret its meaning because they had it spoon-fed to them from the pulpit and they gobbled it up without considering the application of it carefully, if at all. The end result is, it gets perverted as described above.
What in the hell am I talking about? Here's the bottom line: I wish to be treated well but specifically, I wish to people to take a look at me, figure me out, and decide how *I* wish to be treated. I do NOT want people to treat me like they wish to be treated. I'm different from everyone else. I don't like the same things other people do. I love things which other people despise. Of course, I have some common interests with other people and that frequently gives us a good starting point, along with shared culture and backgrounds. But for a person to assume that I'm, "Like this," or "Like that," or worst of all, give no thought whatsoever to the question and slot me in with the rest of humanity is, well, inhuman.
The Golden Rule should be put into practice but not in the shallow way in which it is carelessly lofted from the pulpits of churches. People must consider that what they wish for and what their contacts wish for should be thought of carefully, with care for the character and inner desires of each individual. Otherwise, the benevolence of the Golden Rule becomes shoddy at best, tortuous at worst.
Indeed, The Golden Rule could be said to be a bane to stupid people and a boon to smart people using it sincerely.
Frankly, I think the Golden Rule lost its lustre many many years or centuries ago when people erroneously decided that treating everyone the same was an appropriate interpretation of the Golden Rule.
--Wag--
As far as I can tell, Buddhists don't often know about the Golden Rule or don't care about it if they hear of it. I could be wrong, but I believe Buddhists simply say, "Treat people well and you'll be treated well." I like the simplicity and the implied cause and effect approach of that but I digress. Not to mention, I'm not the least bit qualified to discuss Buddhism in depth.
What is the Golden Rule? It says, and I gleefully paraphrase, "Do unto others as you would have them do unto you." Essentially, the Golden Rule is a simplified code of ethics but as you'll see below, it has serious pitfalls.
Christians, using the Golden Rule, attempt to explain WHY you should treat people well. The reason is very selfish, not the least bit altruistic: Selfishness. Self-centeredness. Treat people well simply because you hope they are also going to treat you well? Okay, I realize there is a subtle difference between the Golden Rule and the "Buddhist" philosophy I quoted above. But the difference IS there, barely noticeable, and determined to look innocent while in reality, lying in wait to deceive, as it were.
The implication is, if you treat someone well, you should expect them to treat you well. Or worse, if you treat someone badly, you could expect reprisals from them. Hogwash. How could anyone possibly imply that because you treat them a certain way, the other guy would or should respond in kind? I think it's a naive point of view and it baldly implies that everyone is going to act like you do. That won't happen unless we all become robots who act exactly the same 'cause we all have the same programming.
Absurd.
Just 'cause you treat a person badly is no reason to believe he will abandon some code of ethics to which he holds in order to avenge himself on you. Nor should one be so naive as to assume that if you treat a person well he will abandon a life of crime and suddenly start treating you like a saving saint. (Okay, it happens, but rarely.) In fact, to assume either of those premises to be true would be grossy prejudicial and inconsiderate.
And here's the worst part of the Golden Rule: It assumes, much like the above, that how YOU want to be treated is how other people want to be treated. Pigs' swill. It's a very lazy way to shuffle off responsibility for other people from you to . . . the other person? I can't imagine that how *I* wish to be treated is the same way everyone else wishes to be treated. Okay, maybe a few, but not all and probably not very many, either.
Bear in mind, I've taken a Devil's Advocate position here in hacking at the Golden Rule. In essence, however, it's only flawed when put into practice in an unthinking way. But if used by thoughtful, intelligent people, it has a great deal of value. Most people who espouse the Golden Rule really haven't put a lot of thought into it. They misinterpret its meaning because they had it spoon-fed to them from the pulpit and they gobbled it up without considering the application of it carefully, if at all. The end result is, it gets perverted as described above.
What in the hell am I talking about? Here's the bottom line: I wish to be treated well but specifically, I wish to people to take a look at me, figure me out, and decide how *I* wish to be treated. I do NOT want people to treat me like they wish to be treated. I'm different from everyone else. I don't like the same things other people do. I love things which other people despise. Of course, I have some common interests with other people and that frequently gives us a good starting point, along with shared culture and backgrounds. But for a person to assume that I'm, "Like this," or "Like that," or worst of all, give no thought whatsoever to the question and slot me in with the rest of humanity is, well, inhuman.
The Golden Rule should be put into practice but not in the shallow way in which it is carelessly lofted from the pulpits of churches. People must consider that what they wish for and what their contacts wish for should be thought of carefully, with care for the character and inner desires of each individual. Otherwise, the benevolence of the Golden Rule becomes shoddy at best, tortuous at worst.
Indeed, The Golden Rule could be said to be a bane to stupid people and a boon to smart people using it sincerely.
Frankly, I think the Golden Rule lost its lustre many many years or centuries ago when people erroneously decided that treating everyone the same was an appropriate interpretation of the Golden Rule.
--Wag--
Thursday, May 20, 2004
Why do people need a god?
I pretty much ignore religion for the most part these days except from a philosophical position. Some religions have their philosophical tenets which have value. The Golden Rule for example, though I think that belief is not carried to the level it should be. (Another topic for another day, I suppose.)
Nature does its thing, inexorably and unstoppably. The best thing man can do is delay its onslaught with shelter and disease control. An irresponsible parent who places a greater importance on an individual pasttime rather than on the well-being of his child is personally responsible for whatever harm comes to that child as a result. Yet, we read of such things regularly.
Second, we have to be careful to keep a grip on ourselves and our reality. The way I look at it, everything we do has consequences and whatever behaviors we engage in will have their benefits or detriments in the short and long run. There are a whole range of natural events, however, over which we have no control. The aforementioned irresponsible parent sets events in motion and causes a child to be 'left behind.' Such a parent has abandoned whatever degree of control he could have exercised over events in the immediate future.
The inexperience and fear of a child takes over from there. Nature, if you will. It would have been a mercy for such a child to die cataclysmically and immediately but coincidence and chance often preclude that from happening. They generally suffer a great deal before they succumb.
I agonize over the ordeal of such ill-fated children. It's very easy for me to place myself in their position and come very close to pure empathy with them. And choked with emotion over the suffering they must have endured. (There have been studies which suggest that nature floods the body with pain-killer chems and starts to shut down in order to prevent such pain as much as possible. That eases my mind about the suffering of small children and animals.)
Where I started to go with this second thought is that most of us have an inherent need and longing for a protective cloak over our stupidity and from the uncontrollable factors of our lives. We need to be careful we don't allow such compelling needs to push us into an irrational wishful belief in an all-powerful protector; just because we feel there SHOULD be one or we can't accept that there may not be one. Belief in god should be well thought out and based on intelligence, not reactionary emotion. Not trying to convince, lecture, or patronize. Just kind of outlining my own thought process as I dismissed a belief in God. Frankly, I think it's just fine not to know either way and to live life accordingly whether or not you believe. As long as you can make some degree of sense out of your belief.
As children growing up, our parents, ideally, are always there to kiss it better when we skin a knee or bonk a noggin. Is that the source of our desire to have a loving god watch over us as adults so that when things go badly, we can rely on his influence to make things better? A natural outgrowth of a learned thought pattern which says, "Take care of meeeeee?" I had that to a degree but not as much as some people. I was badly abused by my parents whereas the younger half of my nine siblings got treated more nicely. Perhaps that's the reason I didn't have much trouble dispensing with a belief in god and why my siblings may never do so.
Of all the theories of god, the watchmaker theory seems the most believable. Fits the circumstantial evidence the best. However, it would be the most difficult theory to prove. If god is ever discovered or chooses to reveal himself, we'll likely find that he's either a grandfatherly type who was just taking a nap and forgot to set his alarm, or we'll find he's more like a little kid with a magnifying glass aimed at the anthill of the earth and when he gets back around to us, we're gonna get fried!
Either way, we'll have more cause to hate him than love him. We'll look at him and say, "Why did you let millions of people starve to death, die of AIDS, die of crusades and inquisitions and holocausts and disease and earthqukes and other sorts of suffering?" "Benevolent" or not, if there's a god, there's plenty more reason to hate him than love him! My opinion, of course.
In the movie, "Pitch Black" there's a line by Riddick who says, "Yeah, I believe [in god] and I hate the motherfucker." I love that. It expresses my sentiment perfectly, except, of course, for the belief part. At least, it used to express my passion up to the point where I realized I could let go of my hatred of god since there was no god to hate.
Just my perception of the topic. Maybe more to come.
--Wag--
Nature does its thing, inexorably and unstoppably. The best thing man can do is delay its onslaught with shelter and disease control. An irresponsible parent who places a greater importance on an individual pasttime rather than on the well-being of his child is personally responsible for whatever harm comes to that child as a result. Yet, we read of such things regularly.
Second, we have to be careful to keep a grip on ourselves and our reality. The way I look at it, everything we do has consequences and whatever behaviors we engage in will have their benefits or detriments in the short and long run. There are a whole range of natural events, however, over which we have no control. The aforementioned irresponsible parent sets events in motion and causes a child to be 'left behind.' Such a parent has abandoned whatever degree of control he could have exercised over events in the immediate future.
The inexperience and fear of a child takes over from there. Nature, if you will. It would have been a mercy for such a child to die cataclysmically and immediately but coincidence and chance often preclude that from happening. They generally suffer a great deal before they succumb.
I agonize over the ordeal of such ill-fated children. It's very easy for me to place myself in their position and come very close to pure empathy with them. And choked with emotion over the suffering they must have endured. (There have been studies which suggest that nature floods the body with pain-killer chems and starts to shut down in order to prevent such pain as much as possible. That eases my mind about the suffering of small children and animals.)
Where I started to go with this second thought is that most of us have an inherent need and longing for a protective cloak over our stupidity and from the uncontrollable factors of our lives. We need to be careful we don't allow such compelling needs to push us into an irrational wishful belief in an all-powerful protector; just because we feel there SHOULD be one or we can't accept that there may not be one. Belief in god should be well thought out and based on intelligence, not reactionary emotion. Not trying to convince, lecture, or patronize. Just kind of outlining my own thought process as I dismissed a belief in God. Frankly, I think it's just fine not to know either way and to live life accordingly whether or not you believe. As long as you can make some degree of sense out of your belief.
As children growing up, our parents, ideally, are always there to kiss it better when we skin a knee or bonk a noggin. Is that the source of our desire to have a loving god watch over us as adults so that when things go badly, we can rely on his influence to make things better? A natural outgrowth of a learned thought pattern which says, "Take care of meeeeee?" I had that to a degree but not as much as some people. I was badly abused by my parents whereas the younger half of my nine siblings got treated more nicely. Perhaps that's the reason I didn't have much trouble dispensing with a belief in god and why my siblings may never do so.
Of all the theories of god, the watchmaker theory seems the most believable. Fits the circumstantial evidence the best. However, it would be the most difficult theory to prove. If god is ever discovered or chooses to reveal himself, we'll likely find that he's either a grandfatherly type who was just taking a nap and forgot to set his alarm, or we'll find he's more like a little kid with a magnifying glass aimed at the anthill of the earth and when he gets back around to us, we're gonna get fried!
Either way, we'll have more cause to hate him than love him. We'll look at him and say, "Why did you let millions of people starve to death, die of AIDS, die of crusades and inquisitions and holocausts and disease and earthqukes and other sorts of suffering?" "Benevolent" or not, if there's a god, there's plenty more reason to hate him than love him! My opinion, of course.
In the movie, "Pitch Black" there's a line by Riddick who says, "Yeah, I believe [in god] and I hate the motherfucker." I love that. It expresses my sentiment perfectly, except, of course, for the belief part. At least, it used to express my passion up to the point where I realized I could let go of my hatred of god since there was no god to hate.
Just my perception of the topic. Maybe more to come.
--Wag--
Thursday, May 13, 2004
Living up to your labels
I once read a quote which said, "If you treat others as they are and as they should be, they will become what they are and what they should be."
How many times have we performed above and beyond our true ability simply because someone looked up to us and expected it? Or worse, how many times do we do less than what we are capable of doing because . . .
Gasp!
. . . nobody's paying attention.
Hmmmmmmmmm.
--Wag--
How many times have we performed above and beyond our true ability simply because someone looked up to us and expected it? Or worse, how many times do we do less than what we are capable of doing because . . .
Gasp!
. . . nobody's paying attention.
Hmmmmmmmmm.
--Wag--
Dental Times
Went to the dentist this morning. Lemme tell ya something: There ain't NOTHING in the world better than a dentist who knows how to do his job without causing you enough pain to make the Texas Chainsaw Massacre look like a day out picking daisies.
As a child, dentistry was done with a hammer and chisel with an occasional hacksaw thrown into the mix. It was always done with two people. The dentist, wearing his mask (so little kids wouldn't be frightening into fits of screaming as they gazed into his maniacally grinning, sadistic face), and the dental assistant. The dental assistant was quite often rather decent looking and as I got to be a teenager, at least that much was appreciated.
Her looks were always deceiving though. Her job was to stretch your lip down past your bellybutton so the dentist could have an unimpeded view of your choppers. Not only that but he had to have room for a whole inventory of equipment in order to do his torture, er, work on your mouth.
First was the vacuum. I'm convinced this was for the sole purpose of drowning out the noises of the drill as he gleefully plowed through your teeth, spraying particles all over your chest. That little bib they clipped on you was nowhere NEAR large enough to keep that garbage off your shirt. Someone coulda made a mint selling rubber dental shirts but noooooo. All you got was this little insignificant paper postage stamp clipped to your collar.
So now you have a vacuum cleaner whining in your ear, a drill whining in your other ear, a dentist with hands the size of Montana reaching into the back of your throat and a general all-around cavalcade of crap all over your tonsils. Oh, and the assistant always had one hand dragging your cheek over HER shoulder with one hand at the same time she held your lip down at your waist with her other hand.
One assistant actually stapled my lip to my belly so she could root around in my mouth with yet another vacuum cleaner as the dentist hammered away at my teeth. Add to that the little rubber wheel stop. Same thing they use in the garage behind your car but the only difference is, this one goes in your mouth. They even buy them at the same auto parts store. I know, 'cause I've seen 'em. They wedge that puppy in between your teeth because they know damn well that first chance you get, you're biting fingers off.
Then there's the needle as long as your arm. That was always a good one. Why do they need a needle so long? I'll tell you why: So the dentist is out of your reach when he sticks you with it. If the needle were any shorter, you'd grab his man-berries and wrench 'em off him.
Ah, the memories.
Laughing gas hadn't been invented yet. The dentist would talk to you. The objective, of course, was to divert your attention from the pain in your mouth to the task of trying to talk with all this crap hanging from your jaws. It always came out the same:
Ggggahhhhahhghhghghghehehehehgggheghgggeeee.
That was because your tongue was either clamped to the roof of your mouth or stapled to your chin. That stapler got quite the use in that dental office.
The scariest thing about talking to the dentist with a mouth full of Snap-On tools was that the dentist always understood you. Must have been a class in Dental school on how to understand people who were A) in extreme pain, B) had your arm down their throat and C) hated your guts for doing your job. But understand you they did and they kept a rousing conversation going with you the entire time you were there.
Again, just to distract you from the pain. I'm sure dentists at the conventions would compare notes on who could cause the most pain before a patient cold-cocked 'em. If it was a big muscle-bound guy, the dentist got more points for it.
"Yeah, yesterday I had this kid in my office and I inadvertently drilled a hole in his left nostril. Oops. Clumsy me. I had just asked him if he had a girlfriend, my favorite distraction question for teenage boys, and just as he started to answer me, I nailed him. He never let out a peep! That's whatcha gotta do, use the right question, the right timing, and pretend like you do that kind of thing every day."
"Oh, that's nothing, bro. I had this guy in my chair a couple weeks back, 6'4" and outweighed me by 75 lbs. Good sense of humor. I had my most luscious assistant leaning over his face, dragging cleavage wafting perfume and the whole bit. I was just telling stories and at that moment, I was talking about my trip to Lake Tahoe and the huge Bass I had caught. All of a sudden, I 'slipped' and drove a chisel right through his jaw under the last molar. He winced a little, but didn't even groan. Boobs, man. That's all I have to say. Boobs. Works every time. And the best thing about it was the repair work on his jaw and back molars paid for my new fishing boat. I have it on order right now!"
I can hear the "ooohs" and "aaaahs" over that one.
But that was the good ol' days. It isn't like that any more.
This morning, my dentist whipped out a small digital camera probe and plugged it into a T.V. monitor. He pokes it into my mouth and shows me, tooth by tooth every little thing going on in my mouth. Lotsa neat little white castles lined up in rows.
"Looks like you need to floss a little more in front there." "Started smoking, didn't you? Bad boy." "I see a little rough spot back here we can sand off."
My teeth must be like a diary. I was waiting for him to tell me the last time I had sex but he had enough discretion to leave that one alone.
I complained about a spot in my back molar where food gets stuck all the time. He fixed that, cleaned my teeth, polished up and I was done.
I nearly fell asleep in his chair. And no pain killers or gas through any of it. How many of you can say that about YOUR dentist? Neener neener neener. I know most of you are so terrified at the dentist you're leaving claw marks in the arms of his chair. Sleeping is not even a remote possibility for you, even WITH the gas.
In short, my dentist is no fun, really. But in a dentist, that's the best thing about him. I'll take my boring ol' dentist over my childhood dentists any day.
--Wag--
As a child, dentistry was done with a hammer and chisel with an occasional hacksaw thrown into the mix. It was always done with two people. The dentist, wearing his mask (so little kids wouldn't be frightening into fits of screaming as they gazed into his maniacally grinning, sadistic face), and the dental assistant. The dental assistant was quite often rather decent looking and as I got to be a teenager, at least that much was appreciated.
Her looks were always deceiving though. Her job was to stretch your lip down past your bellybutton so the dentist could have an unimpeded view of your choppers. Not only that but he had to have room for a whole inventory of equipment in order to do his torture, er, work on your mouth.
First was the vacuum. I'm convinced this was for the sole purpose of drowning out the noises of the drill as he gleefully plowed through your teeth, spraying particles all over your chest. That little bib they clipped on you was nowhere NEAR large enough to keep that garbage off your shirt. Someone coulda made a mint selling rubber dental shirts but noooooo. All you got was this little insignificant paper postage stamp clipped to your collar.
So now you have a vacuum cleaner whining in your ear, a drill whining in your other ear, a dentist with hands the size of Montana reaching into the back of your throat and a general all-around cavalcade of crap all over your tonsils. Oh, and the assistant always had one hand dragging your cheek over HER shoulder with one hand at the same time she held your lip down at your waist with her other hand.
One assistant actually stapled my lip to my belly so she could root around in my mouth with yet another vacuum cleaner as the dentist hammered away at my teeth. Add to that the little rubber wheel stop. Same thing they use in the garage behind your car but the only difference is, this one goes in your mouth. They even buy them at the same auto parts store. I know, 'cause I've seen 'em. They wedge that puppy in between your teeth because they know damn well that first chance you get, you're biting fingers off.
Then there's the needle as long as your arm. That was always a good one. Why do they need a needle so long? I'll tell you why: So the dentist is out of your reach when he sticks you with it. If the needle were any shorter, you'd grab his man-berries and wrench 'em off him.
Ah, the memories.
Laughing gas hadn't been invented yet. The dentist would talk to you. The objective, of course, was to divert your attention from the pain in your mouth to the task of trying to talk with all this crap hanging from your jaws. It always came out the same:
Ggggahhhhahhghhghghghehehehehgggheghgggeeee.
That was because your tongue was either clamped to the roof of your mouth or stapled to your chin. That stapler got quite the use in that dental office.
The scariest thing about talking to the dentist with a mouth full of Snap-On tools was that the dentist always understood you. Must have been a class in Dental school on how to understand people who were A) in extreme pain, B) had your arm down their throat and C) hated your guts for doing your job. But understand you they did and they kept a rousing conversation going with you the entire time you were there.
Again, just to distract you from the pain. I'm sure dentists at the conventions would compare notes on who could cause the most pain before a patient cold-cocked 'em. If it was a big muscle-bound guy, the dentist got more points for it.
"Yeah, yesterday I had this kid in my office and I inadvertently drilled a hole in his left nostril. Oops. Clumsy me. I had just asked him if he had a girlfriend, my favorite distraction question for teenage boys, and just as he started to answer me, I nailed him. He never let out a peep! That's whatcha gotta do, use the right question, the right timing, and pretend like you do that kind of thing every day."
"Oh, that's nothing, bro. I had this guy in my chair a couple weeks back, 6'4" and outweighed me by 75 lbs. Good sense of humor. I had my most luscious assistant leaning over his face, dragging cleavage wafting perfume and the whole bit. I was just telling stories and at that moment, I was talking about my trip to Lake Tahoe and the huge Bass I had caught. All of a sudden, I 'slipped' and drove a chisel right through his jaw under the last molar. He winced a little, but didn't even groan. Boobs, man. That's all I have to say. Boobs. Works every time. And the best thing about it was the repair work on his jaw and back molars paid for my new fishing boat. I have it on order right now!"
I can hear the "ooohs" and "aaaahs" over that one.
But that was the good ol' days. It isn't like that any more.
This morning, my dentist whipped out a small digital camera probe and plugged it into a T.V. monitor. He pokes it into my mouth and shows me, tooth by tooth every little thing going on in my mouth. Lotsa neat little white castles lined up in rows.
"Looks like you need to floss a little more in front there." "Started smoking, didn't you? Bad boy." "I see a little rough spot back here we can sand off."
My teeth must be like a diary. I was waiting for him to tell me the last time I had sex but he had enough discretion to leave that one alone.
I complained about a spot in my back molar where food gets stuck all the time. He fixed that, cleaned my teeth, polished up and I was done.
I nearly fell asleep in his chair. And no pain killers or gas through any of it. How many of you can say that about YOUR dentist? Neener neener neener. I know most of you are so terrified at the dentist you're leaving claw marks in the arms of his chair. Sleeping is not even a remote possibility for you, even WITH the gas.
In short, my dentist is no fun, really. But in a dentist, that's the best thing about him. I'll take my boring ol' dentist over my childhood dentists any day.
--Wag--
Tuesday, May 11, 2004
Ha!
I've wanted a Blog since I first heard about 'em. I couldn't tell you why, however. Just one of those irrational things that don't bear explanation, even if you had one.
I just think the word sounds cool.
Blog.
Kinda beautiful and putrid at the same time. It starts out rolling nicely off your tongue and then collapses at the end, face down in the gutter.
But that's just incidental. The frosting, if you'll forgive the bad cliche.
I see people using their blogs for spewage. I suppose I may do some of that here too.
Others are using their blogs to post technical solutions to problems. If I discover anything worthwhile that I couldn't find on a T.S. web site, I'll put it up. Not that I'm a technogeek or anything. I just hate it when a company has crappy technical support. Maxell, are you listening? But before I digress too far . . . .
I'm mystified by one thing, however: Some people are putting up blogs (me) and they aren't really sure who or what will be reading it and why. Just some random info up on the internet. You never know if it has any worth. Is that okay? Or is that even moral or ethical? If nobody reads what you've written, have you just wasted your time and effort?
Eh, who cares? I don't. It changes my life not at all!
I think I may just be jonesing to write something. Anything. Some of it will be spewage, I have little doubt. Other stuff I write may be worthy of some attention. (Is THAT what it's all about? A bunch of us attention-whores hoping for a little recognition? It feels pretty close to the mark.)
Stay tuned. If you're there. I'll put up more spewage some time.
--Wag--
I just think the word sounds cool.
Blog.
Kinda beautiful and putrid at the same time. It starts out rolling nicely off your tongue and then collapses at the end, face down in the gutter.
But that's just incidental. The frosting, if you'll forgive the bad cliche.
I see people using their blogs for spewage. I suppose I may do some of that here too.
Others are using their blogs to post technical solutions to problems. If I discover anything worthwhile that I couldn't find on a T.S. web site, I'll put it up. Not that I'm a technogeek or anything. I just hate it when a company has crappy technical support. Maxell, are you listening? But before I digress too far . . . .
I'm mystified by one thing, however: Some people are putting up blogs (me) and they aren't really sure who or what will be reading it and why. Just some random info up on the internet. You never know if it has any worth. Is that okay? Or is that even moral or ethical? If nobody reads what you've written, have you just wasted your time and effort?
Eh, who cares? I don't. It changes my life not at all!
I think I may just be jonesing to write something. Anything. Some of it will be spewage, I have little doubt. Other stuff I write may be worthy of some attention. (Is THAT what it's all about? A bunch of us attention-whores hoping for a little recognition? It feels pretty close to the mark.)
Stay tuned. If you're there. I'll put up more spewage some time.
--Wag--
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