Q-tips,
Safety and More
Charlie Earl
On the
festive label of my box of “Q-tips” is the line…”variety of uses.” It seems,
however, that my primary use for the fuzzy little dumbbells is neither
recommended nor suggested. For many years I have utilized the cottony cleaners
to swab my ears after showering. Lo! I have discovered that such action is
ill-advised and that I may in fact be compacting the wax into my ears. What’s a
dude to do? Using “Pledge” with its “No waxy buildup” promise seems
ineffective….primarily because I don’t want my ears to be more shiny than my
nose. I gave up stealing my Mother’s “bobby-pins” years ago to complete the
slithery task, and the little squeeze bulb provided by my doctor does no more
than arouse the tender hairs on my ears. Vexed, I tell you, I am truly vexed
and going deaf.
One of the
rules of travel that I learned long ago was “never order the meatloaf” because
it always fails to match Mom’s. Yet…being the obstinate dimwit that I am, I
routinely violate the rule. I consistently suffer the consequences. Meatloaves
are like people. Each one is unique. Some are great. Some are good. Some are
bland while others are spicy, and some are downright atrocious. I probably
shouldn’t have written this because some bureaucrat at the FDA will decide that
content labels should be included with every serving of meatloaf. That, of
course, begs the question: Do I really want to know EVERYTHING that’s in that
delectable pile of mystery meat? I think not. Ignorance is bliss.
Jim Croce
sang it, and maybe I will learn to follow it someday:
And they say you don't tug on Superman's cape
You don't spit into the wind
You don't pull the mask off an 'ole Lone
Ranger
And you don't mess around with Jim
Our family business is undergoing an expansion that requires
several steps of bureaucratic approval. Apparently there are some dedicated
selfless public servants who either read these columns or are aware of my
sometimes uncharitable dismay with government workers. Suffice it to say that
tugging the cape of Big Brother can cause one to suffer bruises on the buttocks
as a result of several swift kicks. I am standing on principle….because I
cannot sit. Or…. perhaps it’s my paranoia and typical bureaucratic inertia.
I’ve learned a lot over my lifetime and have forgotten most of
it. So…I’m the skin and bones example of “Reinforcement Theory” at work.
Because of time constraints, I selectively choose my exposure to ideas and
information. My 60+ year-old filter discriminately chooses the perceptions that
I acquire, and my aging mental apparatus discards most of it.
Speaking or writing of theories such as “Reinforcement Theory:”
There are some theoretical constructs that seem to be intuitively true.
Maslow’s “Hierarchy of Human Needs” is one that I’ve found helpful while
attempting to discern motives and understand actions. One can quibble that the
hierarchy’s priorities can change depending on circumstances, but we can see
their effects in most human action. It has been a goal of mine (not yet begun)
to integrate both of the above theories into a systematic
distinctively-Christian theology. It seems to me that if one mined Proverbs and
the New Testament, one would find RT and Maslow’s principles. Despite our best
efforts…we cannot trump God. (sigh…but we continue to attempt it)
Considering things not done and dreams unfulfilled: my bucket
list is a sieve.
The time has come for me to seriously consider shaving my
whiskers and cutting my hair. As I was walking the other day, I narrowly
averted being shot by my neighbor. He realized at the last moment that I am too
short to be “Sasquatch.” He does have some interesting pictures that may appear
(photo-shopped version) in the “Daily World News” at your local supermarket
checkout. (Just kidding)
Mental political picture of the day: Visualize Sarge Snorkel
hanging on a branch just over the edge of the cliff as Beetle Bailey gazes from
above. Given our recent “solution” for the fiscal cliff, we are the Sarge.
Charlie’s advice: When you observe a politician doing something,
and you think, “I wish I could do that,” remember the old punch line – if you
pet him, maybe he’ll let you.
A beloved reader remarked that my columns have been too
depressing as of late. So…former Dragon Lady, this is for you.
Charlie Earl
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