Tagged: women
Overrun The Runway
He hadn’t flown in a couple of years now, but it was time to renew his flight instructor certificate. The process involved reviewing a series of lessons and special interest items before taking quizzes to demonstrate mastery of the material.
As he didn’t really plan on flying again, he was doing this strictly to “be prepared.” He had worked hard to get the certification, and didn’t want to lose it if he didn’t have to. Who knew? Maybe he’d change his mind in the future. Regardless, the point is that he reviewed the data with curiosity, rather than practical application. The thing about aviation, the thing which he loved–and missed–the most, was the dedication of all involved to “doing it right.”
The noteworthy finding this time was the conclusion that overrunning the end of the runway on a botched takeoff is safer than trying to force an aircraft to fly. He loved it. What a metaphor! You see, he knew that a major reason pilots would choose to force an aircraft to fly was to save face. That’s it. Overrunning the runway on takeoff will inevitably lead to embarrassment–though likely not much else. And if there has ever been a group of individuals who would rather die than suffer embarrassment, it is pilots.
As he knew, as the reader knows, forcing the metaphorical aircraft to fly in grounded-life won’t cause death. But it does cause drama. And who among us doesn’t know someone who would rather create drama, than suffer embarrassment? He tallied how many times in recent memory he tried to “force the aircraft to fly.” How many times had he crashed and burned in life because he didn’t want to suffer the embarrassment that would have followed if he would’ve just put on the brakes and let his momentum peter out?
He’s asking us, “How many relationships could be deepened–or healed–if we made the decision to “overrun the runway” every once in a while?”
Blonde Guy Joke
The three men sat, legs dangling over the unfinished building’s ledge. It was lunchtime. Diaz opened his lunch to discover a burrito waiting for consumption. He lamented to his friends O’Shay and Jones, “Man, I hate burritos. Everyday I open up my lunch, and everyday there is a burrito. In fact, I hate burritos so much that if I find a burrito in this thing tomorrow, I’m jumping off.” Surprisingly, this little rant did not rattle O’Shay and Jones.
O’Shay opened his lunch next. Dejected, he cried, “Are you kiddin’ me? Corned beef and cabbage?! Again? I’m with you Diaz. If I find this in my lunch tomorrow, I’m jumping off.”
Smiling happily, Jones unwrapped his lunch. It was a bologna sandwich on white bread. “I can’t believe it. How many years have I been eating bologna on white bread? I’m with you fellas. Tomorrow, if this is in my lunch again, I’m jumping.”
The next day, the lunch buzzer sounded and the three men went to the edge of the building to eat. Always first to go, Diaz opened his lunch. A burrito. “Well guys. My word is my bond. I said I’d jump, so I’m jumping.” O’Shay and Jones didn’t talk much after that, instead they occupied themselves with their meals. Upon opening his lunch, O’Shay looked resignedly into Jones eyes and said, “Well Jones, I hope you have more luck than us. I’m staring at corned beef and cabbage, yet again. It’s time.” And off the ledge he went. On his own now, Jones went about opening his lunch as normal. “I guess I should have seen this coming,” he said. “Bologna on white bread. Diaz…O’Shay…wherever you are, it looks like you don’t have to wait long to see me again.” And off the ledge he went.
Their wives decided to combine the three funerals into one since the guys were nearly inseparable while alive. It was a nice service. Brief, but nice.
Now, the wives heard through the grapevine what other construction workers had overheard their husbands say. Diaz’s wife spoke up first. “If only he would have told me he didn’t want anymore burritos, I would’ve made him something else.” Next was O’Shay’s wife. “I know what you mean. He had never complained about his lunch before. If I would have known he was sick of corned beef and cabbage, I would’ve made him something else.” The two women looked inquisitively into Jones’ wife’s eyes. Did she have the same remorse? The same guilt? Barely able to find the space between sobs to squeeze out the words, she finally said, “He packed his own lunch!”
The Reason Angels Have Hands In Addition To Wings
It happened back in the early 2000s. He couldn’t remember the year exactly, but for some reason he remembered seeing a PT Cruiser drive by when she said it. They were eating at a restaurant, him and his woman. She had just spilled some food on her favorite pair of pants. He was not surprised. Hell–by this time detergent companies had specifically developed pen-size on-the-go cleaner in an effort to save relationships. And on this occasion his girlfriend said, “What’s the point of trying to not spill if I have a Tide-stick in my purse? They work wonders!” Unintended consequences as they are, the invention of Tide-sticks resulted in women, his girlfriend included, becoming more daring while eating.
What happened next was unbelievable. Women everywhere just gave up on trying to not spill while eating. At first this was all silly. He would even find himself laughing at all the funny ways women would splink. Splinking–that’s what they called it. Women would intentionally miss their mouth in the most nonsensical situation possible and capture the result on camera. Like planking and duckface before it, the photrend caught on quickly. In the first month, the major social media players actually shutdown for an entire day because of the unexpected traffic. People weren’t laughing for very long though. What no one seemed to notice was that women weren’t eating as much food anymore. Weren’t-eating-as-much-food, quickly became weren’t-eating-enough-food. Sadly, unable to resist the Western-trend, the third world suffered the initial blow. Never had the planet seen such merciless loss of life. Inevitably, all eyes turned upward.
Make no mistake, God was aware of the situation. He just hadn’t exactly prepared for this. Finally, Michael spoke up.
“I have an idea.”
“I’m listening.”
“All these eons, I’ve trusted in your infinite wisdom. Specifically, I tried to never complain that you gave the humans hands, while we only got wings. But with the situation they’ve got themselves into down there, I can’t stand idly by anymore. It’s time God. Give us–your messengers of mercy–hands. With hands we’ll be able to answer their prayers.”
“I don’t think I follow.”
“Here’s how it’ll work. We’ll be waiting and watching for the female humans to take a bite. Then, as the food falls we’ll fly in and reach out, with our new additional appendages, to save the falling food. In that same instant, we’ll return it to the plate and they’ll never know we intervened. After a couple miraculous interventions, they’re sure to catch on. It’s the only way.”
In the next moment Michael and the other heralds were happily dashing around the planet using their new hands to ensure women reached satiation.
It worked.
He thought enough time had passed, so he finally delivered his joke, “You know hon…I always said it would take an act of God for a woman to eat a meal without spilling.”
“Not funny.”
He was wrong.
Living Three Days Out
This was it. His last day on the job. He’d waited, mostly patiently, for years to be able to quit as he pleased, and now he’d done it twice in one year. How does it feel? Remember Owen Wilson’s description of the ratio between excitement and scared in Armageddon? Nothing like that.
His life had been so planned up until this year that he still couldn’t believe how relieved this all felt. He just wanted to drink it up.
The great joy of the journey. What was going to happen next? He had some inklings, but no real vision. Honestly, while he had narrowed down his professional joys, he knew just one thing above all. He knew he was tired of trying to convince people of his value with his voice. Experience as his mentor, he was learning that the great thing about self-respect and dignity is that they are heavy enough to squash self-doubt.
How would it all turn out? That is what he longed to know. Emerson wrote about what it must have been like three days before Columbus and his crew discovered America. That day embodied the peak of excitement. That day exemplified the joy of living. Intuition caused him to identify with the sentiment as he read those words years ago. Now, experience was teaching him the full truth of it.
How To Start An Argument
(If you’re short on time, skip to the bottom for numbered instructions).
“Are you kidding me? That’s not at all what I said,” he said, resigning himself.
“That is what you said. That is exactly what you said,” she replied, her voice betraying her emotion.
“No. I said that your family does things different from how I’m used to. I never said they are weird. I never said they are wrong,” he argued, trying one last time to be clear.
“Well, I think if we Googled ‘synonyms for different’, ‘weird’ would make the list,” she said, calming ever so slightly.
“It might. But the difference is that ‘weird’ carries a value, whereas ‘different’ is value-neutral,” he said trying not to get excited too early.
“Why does my family have to be the ‘different’ one? Why can’t your family be the ‘different’ one?” she stammered, signifying she was beginning to understand.
“Because I was the one who said it. My family can’t be ‘different’ to me. My family is what I am used to. Therefore, if your family is not like what I am used to…they are different. You could say the same thing if you thought so,” he said, hoping to be done with the whole thing.
“Fine. My family is different to you, your family is different to me,” she said, unable to recall why this ever even came up.
“Good.”
“Good.”
“Your brother, on the other hand, is weird,” he said, laughing heartily as he ran.
Instructions for How To Start An Argument
Step 1 – Fail to communicate yourself fully and accurately on the first try.
Step 2 – Believe the other person is incapable of making the same error.
The Easiest Call To Answer
Breakfast at 7:00 am with his woman, a quick shower at 7:45, and they’d be out the door by 8:30 on their way to the home store. After picking up a few essentials it would be time to head to the hardware store. He desperately needed a new tool for weeding, and also a bit of potting soil. Oh, and winter fertilizer. If things went perfect, they’d be driving away from the hardware store at 11:00 on their way to meet friends for lunch at 11:30.
It wasn’t quite a sit-down restaurant, but the couples hadn’t seen each other in what seemed like forever, so he budgeted an hour and a half for the lunch. Farewell handshakes and hugs would conclude at 1:00 pm, so he figured they could be pulling out of the parking lot at 1:05, which would leave plenty of time to drive to the ‘burbs for their nephews game. The kid was only 6, so it wasn’t exactly organized. From his perspective it was more like a bunch of adults forming a fleshy boundary which attempted to keep sacred childhood. Either way, he was excited to see his sister and brother-in-law.
From there, the plan was to split-up for an hour or so to clean up. Then everyone would meet back up at 6:00 for some Colorado-style pizza. He figured they’d be out of the restaurant by 8:00–8:30 at the latest. Afterwards everyone would return to their respective homes, and have a nice quiet night on couches.
Yep, he was pretty proud of himself for having such a thought out plan, but now it was time for bed.
Pulling the covers up–awkwardly as usual–to warm the back of his neck, he shut his eyes, smiling.
He awoke. Widening his eyes as if that helped him regain consciousness faster, he reached for his phone. Seeing the time before noting who was calling, he read “5:30” with some confusion. “Who would be calling so early on a Saturday?” he wondered to himself. The screen informed him who it was, and he couldn’t help but smile.
“Honey,” he said. “Honey, wake up, wake up,” he said shaking her.
“What time is it?” she mumbled.
“Huh? Why? That doesn’t matter. We’ve got to cancel our plans for the day. The mountains called. They’re open!”
She’s A Djeeen-yus!
“Trees,” she said in response to the prompt he gave.
After hearing “I see…” and seeing his finger point to the cars on the page, she responded, “Cars.”
He turned the page. The next page had two scenes. In the first, the main character painted a wall blue. In the second, the main character’s friend colored the wall red with a crayon. He continued the challenge-response game.
“I see…” he queried, pointing to the blue.
“Paint,” she finished.
Smiling ear-to-ear, he chuckled. “Ha. Good. I would have also accepted ‘Blue’.”
The Last Time He
The last time he unquestionably believed something because of the proponent’s position in society he was a child. This is not because he thought position, rank and/or authority were easily gained, but because he wanted to keep ever sharp his ability to think for himself.
And because there is that point, increasingly difficult to identify over time, when trust becomes foolishness–itself only a few steps away from danger.
How To Ruin Food
(If you’re short on time, skip to the bottom for numbered instructions.)
“I really shouldn’t eat this, what with it containing 12 grams of saturated fat. Oh well, I’ll put in extra time at the gym tonight,” he said scarfing down the burger.
“I know. I really went overboard last weekend on the late night snacking. I think I ate two entire bags of chips and salsa,” she replied in kind.
They continued this way for the duration of the time it took for them to wolf down other foods they shouldn’t eat because of words and numbers on the packaging. I know because I was eating with them. You see, they were my friends. I hadn’t seen them in such a long time, and I had finally made time to grab a bite to catch up with them. By the time the food–if we can even call it that anymore–was finished, I was able to ask, “So how’s life? What have you been up to?”
“It’s good. Really good. Oh, but look at the time. I really need to get going if I’m going to make it to the restaurant on time after work tonight. I really need to stop eating out so much,” she said.
Instruction for How To Ruin Food
Step 1 – Believe that there is any relationship between nutritional facts and self-discipline.
Step 2 – State the relationship.
Step 3 – Repeat Step 2 until time runs out.
Joke
At first the accusation stung, but he was too resilient to let it bother him for long. What with everyone else committing the same error, he didn’t feel that bad for projecting.
Captain’s Log 