Tag: Theo’s 24

Fightin’ Words

Words are everywhere. New ones. Neologisms. I can’t help but notice them. Especially ones that make me pause and attempt to process… with no possible resolution.  Like trying to remember important birthdays or my dentist appointment.

The problem is that there’s more of them.  Combinations of words put together to Frankenstein-up speech when other simpler language doesn’t convey enough emotion to satisfy our more in-tune culture.  Like when I smack my elbow on a door frame and a simple yipe and four-letter word isn’t enough to relieve my pain pressure valve.  And because I’m a master at self-inflicted pain – and I watch pro football – I’ve become a certified cuss-smith.

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Perfect Fruit

WAIT! before sending angry emails and rainbow emojis, read on. This isn’t a rant about RuPaul’s Drag Race or some other in-your-face transgender or alternative life-choice. It’s simply a non-political commentary on Americans’ often irrational expectation for perfection, irrespective of personal effort to achieve even basic mediocrity.

As consumers we’ve learned to expect – no demand – perfection. We sort through piles of consumer goods on a quest for perfection, foregoing scuffed packages for ones that look bright and fresh, as if taken from an ad agency photo shoot. What’s inside is the same as that in the rejected box that’s been shoved aside, relegated to the Island of Misfit Toys or the desperate grasp of a waterlogged homeowner that will settle for that last sump pump in a beat up box on a dusty shelf. Continue reading “Perfect Fruit”

My Kryptonite

I’m not a phone guy. I like to talk but can’t stand these little time-wasting, microwave-driven, brain cancer-causing intrusions in my life. Much like the radio in my plane, cell phone usage should be limited to necessary communication. If you wanna talk to me, please use your voice. I look forward to it. I miss it. Apologies to my friends and family but why can’t you understand that I don’t “group chat?”

My phone “dinged” twenty six times in four minutes yesterday morning while I was working on a complex customer proposal. Thinking someone had an emergency, I glanced at my phone, only to see a family string of four word volleys and a picture of Sponge Bob with his eyes crossed and tongue hanging out. I hate Sponge Bob… the new millennium’s answer to Bugs Bunny.

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