Nobody Knows The Trouble He's Seen

With the forty-first president of the United States George H.W. Bush languishing in the hospital, you might be surprised to know that one of the people most upset about this development is the forty-second president, Bill Clinton.  If you remember the two of them dueling for the Oval Office in 1992, you might think they wouldn’t have a good word to say about the other.  You would be wrong.

I recall a number of years ago being shocked to hear that Jimmy Carter counted his predecessor, Gerald Ford among his closest friends.  They say politics makes strange bedfellows, and whoever “they” are, they’re right on the money, as you will find in “The President’s Club: Inside the World’s Most Exclusive Fraternity”.   This 641-page volume, written by Nancy Gibbs and Michael Duffy, was the best book I read all year.  It was at once about both politics and history, informative and anecdotal, serious and dishy.

 These relationships between former presidents, as well as those between sitting and former chief executives are chronicled back to the time of Truman’s elevation to the top spot.  They could have gone back much further.  John Adams and Thomas Jefferson, our second and third presidents, were best friends when their terms of office expired, though they had rarely agreed on anything as statesmen.  In fact, it has been recorded that John Adams last words from his death bed were, “Jefferson lives!”  He may or may not have been correct;  Jefferson died that same day, July 4, 1826.

The easiest explanation also happens to be the correct one-no one else could ever understand what you faced as the most powerful man on the planet except for a person who’d occupied that chair.  It is a distinction that crosses party lines and is bigger than any ideology.  Yet despite their similarities, this council of wise men was sometimes a godsend and in other instances an albatross for a sitting president.

Truman, thrust into the presidency by the death of Franklin D. Roosevelt, was thought by many to be woefully unqualified.  He may have shared these thoughts, as he reached out to the only living alumnus, Herbert Hoover, who had been living in virtual exile, blamed for many of the circumstances surrounding The Great Depression.  Hoover had been instrumental in feeding war-torn Europe after World War I, and Truman knew that winning the peace would be at least as hard as winning the second World War.  With infant mortality soaring, Hoover, with some reservations, answered the call of the Commander in Chief.  Truman was later the driving force in restoring Hoover’s name to the dam that had been his namesake, having been churlishly re-titled Cooley Dam under F.D.R.

Authors Gibbs and Duffy take you inside the secret briefings Eisenhower received from Kennedy as world peace teetered on a precipice during the Cuban Missile Crisis;  they show you that Nixon was at turns a brilliant tactician and an outright son of a bitch years before his perfidy at the Watergate Hotel.  Shockingly, it was Nixon who was the first president in nearly a century without an ex-president to consult after the back-to-back deaths of both Truman and Lyndon Johnson.  One wonders if he would have listened to the advice of these men when he needed it most…you could also wonder if they would have taken his phone call.  The book ends about mid-way through Barack Obama’s first term, as our current president reached out to both George W. Bush and Bill Clinton.  Both answered the call. 

I would like to think that they would re-issue this book about once a decade, updated to include collaborations between leaders of today and tomorrow.  It would be nice to think that now that Obama has broken the race barrier, perhaps The Ex-President’s Club might have to make their clubhouse a co-ed establishment. 


 

Please consider these other items written and/or performed by Marc Holland:

Live performances at:

http://www.youtube.com/user/itzajoke

Three plays co-written with Mike Davis-

Crenshaw Family Reunion 

Beauty and the Deceased

Night of the Livid Dad (one-act)

One play co-written with Kathy Holland-

Warren’s Peace

Are  all available at:

http://www.histage.com/searchplaycategories.asp

Coming Soon: A new one-act co-written with Kathy Holland-

Jobbed

Will be available at:

http://www.writersamuseme.com/plays.htm

Novels under the pen name Quentin Tippler-

Hats Off For Homicide

And Coming Soon:

On the QT: The Collected Short Fiction of Quentin Tippler

Are for sale at:

http://www.amazon.com/s/ref=nb_sb_noss?url=search-alias%3Ddigital-text&field-keywords=quentin%20tippler

Novels under the pen name Carl Stafford-

Son of Mann

And Coming in 2014:

Grandsons of Mann

http://www.amazon.com/s/ref=nb_sb_noss?url=search-alias%3Ddigital-text&field-keywords=carl+stafford&rh=n%3A133140011%2Ck%3Acarl+stafford

What I've Learned

 For many years, Esquire magazine has published a regular feature under this title.  It has contained revelations that range from simple to sublime.  These are mine...I'd love to hear yours.

It's a waste of time to say, "There'll never be another Babe Ruth".  Well of course there won't.  There'll never be another George Washington, Rosa Parks, or you, or me.  We've already had one of each, how many do we need?

Having a son will make you a little boy again.  Having a daughter will make you a better man.

If all the women in the world disappear tomorrow, you've received your last Christmas card.

The movie reviews of a newspaper writer you trust is just one step below medical advice from a good doctor.  A bad recommendation from either wastes your time and leaves you feeling worse than you did before.

If you're contemplating an affair, you should know that the hottest sex you'll ever have isn't with the woman on the side.  It's with a woman that can trust you completely.

With a good song, you'll remember all the lyrics years after you last heard it.  A great song will make you remember who you were with when you first heard it.

Always wave back to kids in the rear of a school bus.

When people call the Three Stooges, Jerry Lewis or Adam Sandler comic geniuses, Stan Laurel spins in his grave.

If you're not into sports, scan the sports page anyway and find out who's playing and what athletes are being talked about.  You'll be amazed how many friends you make by being able to say, "How 'bout that Miguel Cabrera, huh?"

Owning a dog does not get you ready to have a child.  Owning a dog prepares you to own two dogs.

Father of rock -n- roll?  Satchmo.

While not the creator of jazz music, he was its most important figure as an ambassador.  By extension, he is the father of all popular music.  It's Armstrong to Bing Crosby, to Dean Martin, to Elvis.  Case closed.

There's no price tag on the phrase, "I'm sorry".  But what you'll get back by saying it is invaluable.


 

Please consider these other items written and/or performed by Marc Holland:

Live performances at:

http://www.youtube.com/user/itzajoke

Three plays co-written with Mike Davis-

Crenshaw Family Reunion 

Beauty and the Deceased

Night of the Livid Dad (one-act)

One play co-written with Kathy Holland-

Warren’s Peace

Are  all available at:

http://www.histage.com/searchplaycategories.asp

Coming Soon: A new one-act co-written with Kathy Holland-

Jobbed

Will be available at:

http://www.writersamuseme.com/plays.htm

Novels under the pen name Quentin Tippler-

Hats Off For Homicide

And Coming Soon:

On the QT: The Collected Short Fiction of Quentin Tippler

Are for sale at:

http://www.amazon.com/s/ref=nb_sb_noss?url=search-alias%3Ddigital-text&field-keywords=quentin%20tippler

Novels under the pen name Carl Stafford-

Son of Mann

And Coming in 2014:

Grandsons of Mann

http://www.amazon.com/s/ref=nb_sb_noss?url=search-alias%3Ddigital-text&field-keywords=carl+stafford&rh=n%3A133140011%2Ck%3Acarl+stafford

Happy Anniversary, Ed

Who could believe it’s been another year?  Sixteen now, isn’t it?  October 20, 1996.  Happy Anniversary, Ed.  Odd that I still think about you after all this time when I haven’t seen you since that day.  I don’t even know if you’re alive.

I used to wonder what was going through your mind when you jumped the counter all those years ago, your face covered in a mask, that four-inch blade shining in your hand.  Was your heart beating as hard as mine?  As each of us had a part to play, was there any doubt that when you took a step forward, I would take a step back?

Of course, even aside from the weapon, you had the advantage.  You knew who I was.  You knew me as that crazy, pacifist supervisor, who demanded that you do the job you were being paid for.  You had hated me for a long time, expecting to be fired before you were.  The difference between us was that I didn’t think we’d ever meet again and you may have known even then that we would.  When you suddenly appeared in the doorway, blocking my exit, all I could see for sure is that you were a big man, over six feet tall and two hundred pounds against my five-nine, one-sixty.  The only uncovered part of you was your dark eyes, the wide bridge of your nose and your cocoa-colored skin.

You didn’t cut me and for that I am thankful.  Of course, I gave you no reason, complying with your every wish, filling a bag with the company’s cash before you shoved me into a closet and made your escape.  Both of our lives changed that day, and for much longer than the money lasted, I’m sure.  You of course, kept doing the same thing over and over until you got caught. 

The robbery you were arrested for got you a couple of years in prison.  When you finally got out, you were free for three months before you were back in for stealing a car.  I guess I don’t have to tell you, Ed, it’s not a good idea to change specialties.  I haven’t heard anything about you since.  You could be behind bars in another state or dead.  Maybe you found religion and turned your life around.

Absent from my life as you are, I want you to know you’ve never left my thoughts.  Your face is as clear in my mind as it has ever been.  Even after months of therapy I had anxiety attacks.  I changed the locks on my doors and installed outdoor flood lights, sometimes walking the floor at  night checking and re-checking the perimeter to see that the windows remained barred against your intrusion into the house where my wife and two babies slept.

 I thought I saw you in shopping malls and grocery stores.  You visited me in tortured dreams during the rare hours of sleep.  Every year, for nine years, when October came around, the dreams would return and it was as if the whole thing was happening all over again.

It’s funny, in a way, that the Detroit Tigers did what time, a psychologist and a river of alcohol could not.  In 2006, when Kenny Rogers pitched his team into the World Series, breaking a record for consecutive scoreless innings long held by Babe Ruth in the process, his accomplishment became my touchstone.  Rogers, just a few months younger than I, had previously been snake-bit in the post-season, suffering humiliating defeats with the Mets and Yankees.  He overcame his October Curse, and I decided if he could do it, I could, too.  The nightmares decreased and the night terrors were extinguished.  I turned off the outside flood lights to save money on electricity.

I’ve moved on, Ed.  I live in Ann Arbor now and I love it here.  I’ve been married over twenty years, and those babies I talked about, one of whom was only three months old when you robbed me?  He’s sixteen now.  His sister is a sophomore in college, a poli-sci major, interested in helping people who have no voice in government; people like the poor and minorities, and she’s as liberal in her politics as I ever was.  And Ed, that’s why I want to thank you.

Years ago, when comedian Dennis Miller underwent his startling political conversion, he said that liberals were just conservatives who hadn’t been mugged yet.  But he was wrong, and I’m (thankfully) living proof.  I still care about you as a person, Ed, and I’m still convinced that you were a product of an unhealthy environment, a man who is worthy beyond youthful, poorly-made decisions.  My forgiveness is yours if you want it.

Yet, I’ll never forget you.  I think of you often at work, where I serve a largely African-American clientele, people who look at me as just a person, not a white man.  They know when I look them in the face I’m not registering their skin color first.

I try to take comfort in the math behind the crime statistics, which say that one out of every four Americans will be the victim of a violent crime in their lifetimes.  I would like to think that for my nuclear family, I took one for the team.

I cried with joy the night Barack Obama was elected president in 2008 and rejoiced when he was re-elected just days ago.  I would like to think that the ascendance of this man with the funny name, raised by a single mother to being the most powerful man in the world would give you hope for your future.

This will be the last time I’ll be speaking of you, Ed.  I decided against even mentioning the anniversary to my family and friends this year, letting it pass without notice.  I’m content that I have reached middle age and not become a racist or a conservative, though perhaps I repeat myself.

Even now, I can feel your thick fingers in my shirt collar dragging me around in the back office of that suburban hotel, but you couldn’t lead me to a place I didn’t want to go.  I won’t hate, and you can’t make me.

 

'Roids (All the) Rage

I recently had the opportunity to jab at an acquaintance from the Bay Area about his home team, the San Francisco Giants, losing Melky Cabrera for fifty games because of a “banned substance” suspension ( I was only teasing him because, being a Detroit Tiger fan, you better get off the first shot before they notice what a mess the defending A.L.Central Division champs have become).  At first, he mumbled something about not keeping up with the team lately.  Then, he added that his mother hadn’t been to the ballpark in years because of “what they did to Barry Bonds.”

Reluctantly, I had to agree.  The only regret I hold in the Bonds saga is that he was a certain Hall of Famer before he began dabbling in what was called “the clear”, a form of human growth hormone (HGH).  The purported reason Bonds began using was because of the money home run hitters were making.  Simply being one of the world’s greatest baseball players wasn’t enough to get the bank-breaking contracts that were being doled out to the likes of  Mark McGwire and Sammy Sosa.  You have to ask yourself what you would do in the same situation…others, doing the same job you are, are cheating and getting away with it.  Indeed, they were even being rewarded for their naughty deeds.  How long before you get jealous, watching a fellow get paid for working a full shift when you know he left at lunch and his buddy punched his time card at the end of the day?

Occurring against the backdrop of the Cabrera suspension was the comeback of  ol’ Rocket Roger, the great Clemens, last seen sweating in front of an overheated Congressional committee basically saying, “I didn’t do anything, and if I did, you can’t prove it, so suck on my Red Sox.” (Note to Texas readers: It is perfectly acceptable to replace the last part of that sentence with “Kiss My Astro”). Again, the greatest tragedy of the situation is that Clemens was worthy of enshrinement in Cooperstown before he mixed his pitching arsenal with chemical science, but the recent “comeback” with a Class A minor league team seems calculated to produce a brief return to the majors, pushing off his eligibility for Hall induction by another five years.  Which, according to numerous sources, will place some distance between Clemens and the charges against him, making him more likely to be elected as a first ballot Hall of Famer.  No word yet on whether Clemens would enter Cooperstown as a Red Sock, a Yankee, an Astro, or as an at-large member of Team Pfizer.

It’s easy to condemn these men for their over-reaching ambition.  Yet, no one wants to look at the people who were willing to overlook the abuses of the game’s unwritten rules and unenforced principles.  If you go back to the home run race of McGwire and Sosa of 1998, widely given credit for saving the game of baseball after the disastrous strike of 1994, there wasn’t a voice among the baseball elite asking for random urine tests.  Why?  Because everybody was making money.  Dingers equal dollars, my friends.  Bonds was the anabolic poster boy at the point that high schoolers were being caught with body building pharmaceuticals and less photogenic big leaguers were fattening their statistics with the help of the needle.  That Bonds was also an anti-social, churlish personality made it easy for him to be placed on the spit as the sacrificial lamb for the sin of steroid use.

The powers that be in Major League Baseball, led by the spineless Bud Selig, decided to finally get serious about steroids after years of neglect, pronouncing it as a pox on baseball.  In doing so, they elected to forget more than a decade of amphetamine abuse, prevalent throughout the sixties and seventies.  They chose not to see the coaches in the bleachers stealing signs with binoculars, or the pitchers doctoring baseballs with scuffs and lubricants.  They conveniently forgot about batting champions with corked bats, and everyone else who ever sought an edge in this great game of inches.

They close the doors of the Hall of Fame to Raphael Palmiero and McGwire, who used no substance specifically barred by the game, while venerating men who never had to play a day game after a night game, who never had to suit up after a cross-country airplane ride.  The walls of Cooperstown are covered by images of men who never faced an opponent with black skin.  Even with only eight teams in each league, can we argue that they faced the greatest athletes of their times?

It pains me to defend men like Cabrera, Clemens and Bonds.  I was as enthralled as any longtime fan of the game when McGwire and Sosa took their home run race into September.  But I have to look at the actions of these men as human nature.  Are we not all guilty of seeking an edge, in any way we can get it?  Is there a man anywhere who can say truthfully that he will never paste on a toupee, put lifts in his shoes, or try Viagra, if it gives him an advantage with the opposite sex? 

If you believe you are above all that, then you are getting on base more than the rest of us, and there, my friend, is the difference, and the reason why some of us will use any cheat available.


 

Please consider these other items written and/or performed by Marc Holland:

Live performances at:

http://www.youtube.com/user/itzajoke

Three plays co-written with Mike Davis-

Crenshaw Family Reunion 

Beauty and the Deceased

Night of the Livid Dad (one-act)

One play co-written with Kathy Holland-

Warren’s Peace

Are  all available at:

http://www.histage.com/searchplaycategories.asp

Coming Soon: A new one-act co-written with Kathy Holland-

Jobbed

Will be available at:

http://www.writersamuseme.com/plays.htm

Novels under the pen name Quentin Tippler-

Hats Off For Homicide

And Coming Soon:

On the QT: The Collected Short Fiction of Quentin Tippler

Are for sale at:

http://www.amazon.com/s/ref=nb_sb_noss?url=search-alias%3Ddigital-text&field-keywords=quentin%20tippler

Novels under the pen name Carl Stafford-

Son of Mann

And Coming in 2014:

Grandsons of Mann

http://www.amazon.com/s/ref=nb_sb_noss?url=search-alias%3Ddigital-text&field-keywords=carl+stafford&rh=n%3A133140011%2Ck%3Acarl+stafford

 

Classic Mistake

This will not be a classic blog post.  At least I don’t think so.  According to my Webster’s,  that would mean this missive would serve as a model of excellence.  Well, frankly, that’s the kind of pressure I don’t need.  History will judge me.  I just wish others were as patient.

I hear about things being described as “classics” every day and it breaks my heart to see a well-meaning word brought to its knees.  “Classic” could further be defined as relating to ancient Greek or Roman literature or art, or more succinctly, of lasting historical or artistic significance or worth.  So you’ll perhaps understand why my stomach roils when I hear someone call “Happy Gilmore” a classic.

Please believe me, I’m no elitist.  I do not line up to see the latest sub-titled French film at the theater; I get it from Netflix, only letting it get to the top of my queue when I’m up to date on the Showtime sex comedies.  But there is a line that is crossed when the word “classic”  is used.  The ‘C’ word leaves big footprints.

It’s movies and music as well, really.  Rap music, more than thirty years after the dawning, has just begun to sort out what was classic and what was the work of opportunistic pretenders.  While the work of the Sugar Hill Gang and N.W.A. will be recognized,  many others will disappear into the vapor, having been no more classic than  the latest hyperbolically named Arby’s sandwich.

Don’t even get me started about anything deemed an instant classic. The second those two words are linked like boxcars, the marketing train is picking up steam.  Becoming classic takes time and consideration.  There is a reason most men will find a pair of wingtips in his closet, or perhaps Chuck Taylor All-Star sneakers.  Their design has endured over generations.  If said man should find earth shoes or moon boots beside this pair of classics, he hasn’t cleaned out his closet since 1978.

We’re all guilty of it at one time or another.  We do it to give our lives meaning, to claim what is ours and set aside what previous generations have admired and venerated.  My daughter coined the phrase “prematurely nostalgic” and I think it fits.  We’re rushing to judgment so we can stake out our territory and declare ours better than theirs, today superior to yesterday.  Part of the cause is an ignorance to history.  If you’ve never been exposed to Laurel and Hardy, you might actually believe Vince Vaughn and Owen Wilson are a classic comedy team. 

Unfortunately, dear reader, believing does not make it so.  This old world is like a roulette wheel, and guessing what will transcend the moment is a giant gamble.  Best to wait until the wheel stops, or at least slows down, before calling something classic.  Otherwise, you may have to explain why you were so positive that Simon was certain to fail without Garfunkel.


 

Please consider these other items written and/or performed by Marc Holland:

Live performances at:

http://www.youtube.com/user/itzajoke

Three plays co-written with Mike Davis-

Crenshaw Family Reunion 

Beauty and the Deceased

Night of the Livid Dad (one-act)

One play co-written with Kathy Holland-

Warren’s Peace

Are  all available at:

http://www.histage.com/searchplaycategories.asp

Coming Soon: A new one-act co-written with Kathy Holland-

Jobbed

Will be available at:

http://www.writersamuseme.com/plays.htm

Novels under the pen name Quentin Tippler-

Hats Off For Homicide

And Coming Soon:

On the QT: The Collected Short Fiction of Quentin Tippler

Are for sale at:

http://www.amazon.com/s/ref=nb_sb_noss?url=search-alias%3Ddigital-text&field-keywords=quentin%20tippler

Novels under the pen name Carl Stafford-

Son of Mann

And Coming in 2014:

Grandsons of Mann

http://www.amazon.com/s/ref=nb_sb_noss?url=search-alias%3Ddigital-text&field-keywords=carl+stafford&rh=n%3A133140011%2Ck%3Acarl+stafford

The Amazing Similarities Between Dwight D. Eisenhower and George W. Bush

As a child of the sixties and seventies, I repeatedly saw a poster that was circulated detailing amazing coincidences between two of our assassinated presidents, Abraham Lincoln and John Kennedy.  Do you remember it?  Lincoln was elected in 1860, Kennedy in 1960, Kennedy's secretary was named Lincoln, Lincoln's secretary was named Kennedy, etc.

As a middle-aged man in the new millennium, I've done a little research and thought you might be interested in what I have learned.  there are more than a few coincidences linking two of our twentieth century wartime presidents...

Eisenhower defeated Adlai Stevenson, a man many considered a pointy-headed intellectual.

Bush defeated Al Gore, a man many considered a pointy-headed intellectual.

Eisenhower was a huge baseball fan who showed his love for the game by often throwing out the first pitch on Opening Day.

Bush is a huge baseball fan who showed his love for the game by making a pitch to get others to front money to buy him a controlling interest in a baseball team.

Before Eisenhower was president, he was a four-star general.

Before Bush was president, he gave four stars to "Bill and Ted's Excellent Adventure".

Eisenhower called his wife "Mamie".

Bush's father once worked for a man who called his wife "Mommy".

As an older man, Eisenhower wore glasses.

As a younger man, Bush emptied glasses.

Eisenhower liked a good honest game of gin rummy, but often improved his lie on the golf course.

While Bush occasionally golfed, he usually lets his "Rummy" do the lying for him.

Eisenhower opened up the Arctic National Wildlife Refuge in the interest of protecting the habitat and endangered species.

Bush opened up the Arctic National Wildlife Refuge in the interest of profit for oil companies and rich Republican campaign contributors.

Eisenhower had a medical crisis while in office when he suffered a heart attack.

Bush had a medical crisis while in office when he choked on a pretzel.

There are ten letters in "Eisenhower".

There are ten letters in "Pompous Ass".

Eisenhower: Tricky Dick for a vice president.

Bush: Ditto.

 

Please consider these other items written and/or performed by Marc Holland:

Live performances at:

http://www.youtube.com/user/itzajoke

Three plays co-written with Mike Davis-

Crenshaw Family Reunion 

Beauty and the Deceased

Night of the Livid Dad (one-act)

One play co-written with Kathy Holland-

Warren’s Peace

Are  all available at:

http://www.histage.com/searchplaycategories.asp

Coming Soon: A new one-act co-written with Kathy Holland-

Jobbed

Will be available at:

http://www.writersamuseme.com/plays.htm

Novels under the pen name Quentin Tippler-

Hats Off For Homicide

And Coming Soon:

On the QT: The Collected Short Fiction of Quentin Tippler

Are for sale at:

http://www.amazon.com/s/ref=nb_sb_noss?url=search-alias%3Ddigital-text&field-keywords=quentin%20tippler

Novels under the pen name Carl Stafford-

Son of Mann

And Coming in 2014:

Grandsons of Mann

http://www.amazon.com/s/ref=nb_sb_noss?url=search-alias%3Ddigital-text&field-keywords=carl+stafford&rh=n%3A133140011%2Ck%3Acarl+stafford

Anything But Objective

There was a time that I was regional manager for a string of bookstores.  The responsibility of hiring new employees was mine and I took it very seriously, poring over resumes looking for inconsistencies, checking references, etc.  But there was always one item at the top that you could skip over, that being "Objective".  It was always the same basic statement.  It would be some variation on this...

"My objective is to join a company that would allow me to use my skills in a manner that would be mutually beneficial, in a position that offers financial rewards and possibility of advancement."

And if you believe that one, I've got some Blockbuster Video stocks I'd like you to buy.  Often, after an extensive interview process, the best candidate would show up for their first day of work dressed for anything but success, toting an attitude last seen during a Richard Burton whiskey bender, wondering at what point I would acquiesce and offer them the position of vice president of Exxon. 

What would an "Objective" look like if we were to be completely honest?  I thought it might go something like the following:

I want a job where I can make the most amount of money for the least amount of work.  I want a salary that can maintain an opulent lifestyle, while giving me responsibilities so small it would embarrass Paris Hilton.

As for the benefits, I want it all.  401k, vision, dental, short term disability, long term disability, and a health care plan that recognizes lasik surgery, hair transplants and penis enlargement as a right and not a privilege.  Give me a prescription drug benefit that would make Johnny Cash come back to life.

I want the corner office, with the private bathroom, and a window.  Not facing the dumpster, but the parking lot, where I can see my Porsche.  You guessed it…company car.  I’m going to need a laptop that I can take home for personal use, and yes, the file you’ll see marked Naughty Nurses is a business proposal.

Give me an expense account, a generous one, with cash advance capability.  I’ll turn in receipts to an accountant that understands that sometimes, the way to land the big customer means high priced hookers and high quality blow.   

I’ll require a female co-worker…blond and blue eyed, with breasts the size of my head and a butt that’s shaped like an apple.  I don’t mind working for a woman…as long as she’s the sort of supervisor that rewards an average amount of effort with concert tickets, sizable bonuses and enthusiastic oral sex.

I’ve taken sensitivity training, so I have learned that women don’t like being called bitches and sluts.  I now confine myself to terms like “broad” and “skirt”.

I’m not a big picture guy, and I can’t be bothered with details, so I will need a personal assistant that “gets me”…and gets my dry cleaning.

And you, human resources person, need to realize that my habit of exposing myself to clients and co-workers is just my way of saying I’m excited to meet you…really excited.

I’ll start every morning at eight…I’ll start getting out of bed that is.  I should be into the office around nine, unless I missed the local scores on SportsCenter, in which case, let’s say 9:15.  I’ll be in deer camp up north every November and down south every February for spring training, and is there any point in coming in between Christmas and New Years?

I know you’re thinking about asking me to start Monday, but could we make it Tuesday?  I’m having the guys over on Sunday for the game, and Monday morning I’m going to have the hangover they saved for Judas.

So, do you think I'd get the job?


 

Please consider these other items written and/or performed by Marc Holland:

Live performances at:

http://www.youtube.com/user/itzajoke

Three plays co-written with Mike Davis-

Crenshaw Family Reunion 

Beauty and the Deceased

Night of the Livid Dad (one-act)

One play co-written with Kathy Holland-

Warren’s Peace

Are  all available at:

http://www.histage.com/searchplaycategories.asp

Coming Soon: A new one-act co-written with Kathy Holland-

Jobbed

Will be available at:

http://www.writersamuseme.com/plays.htm

Novels under the pen name Quentin Tippler-

Hats Off For Homicide

And Coming Soon:

On the QT: The Collected Short Fiction of Quentin Tippler

Are for sale at:

http://www.amazon.com/s/ref=nb_sb_noss?url=search-alias%3Ddigital-text&field-keywords=quentin%20tippler

Novels under the pen name Carl Stafford-

Son of Mann

And Coming in 2014:

Grandsons of Mann

http://www.amazon.com/s/ref=nb_sb_noss?url=search-alias%3Ddigital-text&field-keywords=carl+stafford&rh=n%3A133140011%2Ck%3Acarl+stafford

Thin the Herd

There is a problem with health care in this country.  Is it too expensive? Yes, it is, but that’s not what I’m complaining about.  Are there too few people that have it?  Yes, that’s true too, but that’s not what I’m talking about either.  The problem is, the health care system in this country is saving the lives of too many stupid people.

This didn’t used to be a problem!  Once upon a time, when a stupid person did something stupid and got hurt, as they are want to do, they died.  Thin the herd a little bit!  Now, it’s technology like crazy, and stupid people’s lives get saved, so they can go on doing stupid things.  And you know, Stupid Guy is going to meet Stupid Girl, and one of them will say, “I’ve got a great idea!  Let’s get married!”  Great!  As dangerous as one stupid person is, now we’ve got another moron telling ‘em, “You know you’ll blow your fingers off if you hold that firecracker when you light it.  Hold in your teeth”.  It’s not stupid plus stupid, it’s stupid times stupid.  Now, we have stupid to the second power.

We know they’re going to have kids, don’t we?  Now we’ve got stupid times stupid times stupid, stupid cubed.  We all know that smart people can have stupid kids.  My parents made me add that last line.  But, stupid people almost always have stupid kids.  We could end up outnumbered!

It’s our own fault, too.  When our ten year-old acts like a ten year-old, we say, “Why don’t you grow up?”  When Adam Sandler acts like a ten year-old, we give him twenty million dollars a picture and his own production company.

Fortunately, there are a few signs that you’re dealing with a stupid person.  You ask the average guy something he doesn’t know, he’ll scratch his head like he’s trying to stimulate his brain and say, “Gee, I don’t know.”  Stupid guy says the same thing, but scratches his belly. What, are your brains in your appendix? And good luck to you if you’re talking to the guy who scratches his ass while answering.

Stupid guy is the one in front of you at the register at the dollar store asking the clerk, “How much is this?”

Stupid guy is wearing the “I’m with stupid” T-shirt…inside out.

Stupid guy watches sports on TV, like we all do.  But when the instant replay comes on, he figures, “Well, maybe he’ll do better this time”.

It’s popular these days to blame our problems on popular music.  And I’m going to do the same thing.  Have you heard “Jesus Take the Wheel”? Carrie Underwood sings about a girl whose car goes into a spin and she throws her hands up and says, “Jesus Take The Wheel.”  You just know somebody stupid is going to try it!  You can almost hear Jesus saying, “No! No!  You hold onto the wheel, I’ll help you!” 

Besides, what’s he supposed to know about driving?  I have it on good authority that Jesus walked everywhere.


 

Please consider these other items written and/or performed by Marc Holland:

Live performances at:

http://www.youtube.com/user/itzajoke

Three plays co-written with Mike Davis-

Crenshaw Family Reunion 

Beauty and the Deceased

Night of the Livid Dad (one-act)

One play co-written with Kathy Holland-

Warren’s Peace

Are  all available at:

http://www.histage.com/searchplaycategories.asp

Coming Soon: A new one-act co-written with Kathy Holland-

Jobbed

Will be available at:

http://www.writersamuseme.com/plays.htm

Novels under the pen name Quentin Tippler-

Hats Off For Homicide

And Coming Soon:

On the QT: The Collected Short Fiction of Quentin Tippler

Are for sale at:

http://www.amazon.com/s/ref=nb_sb_noss?url=search-alias%3Ddigital-text&field-keywords=quentin%20tippler

Novels under the pen name Carl Stafford-

Son of Mann

And Coming in 2014:

Grandsons of Mann

http://www.amazon.com/s/ref=nb_sb_noss?url=search-alias%3Ddigital-text&field-keywords=carl+stafford&rh=n%3A133140011%2Ck%3Acarl+stafford

Cap and Frown

Last week I attended my daughter’s commencement exercise.  The shining faces of the graduates looked to the future with a mixture of ambition, enthusiasm and hope.  The speeches given by the valedictorian and the local politicians echoed those sentiments.  It was actually kind of shameful.  After four years of facts and figures, years where they were encouraged to seek the truth, why did we end their high school career by filling their heads with lies?  Oh, if only the speakers had been hooked up to a polygraph, I’m certain the speeches would have come out more like this...

I’m State Senator So-and-so.  It’s not a pleasure to be here, sweating my behind off in this robe and ridiculous cap.  And this special certificate you gave me?  Seriously, I get more excited when the vending machine gives me two candy bars for the price of one.

As you go forward into the world, remember your dreams.  You might even want to write them down, because in a couple of years that will be all that is left of them.  It’s wonderful that you worked so hard for your grades, but we forgot to tell you one thing.  It doesn’t make any difference.

Do you remember that meat head in your geometry class?  The one that doodled and slept when he showed up, which was rare?  Well, you’re going to work at the same company as he is.  You’re going to work overtime, sweat every project and neglect your family, all in the name of that promotion that’s going to make all that hard work worth it.  Meanwhile, the meat head will leave early, spend half the day flirting with the girl that answers the phone and looking at pornography on his computer.  Again, this is when he shows up. Yet, when it’s time for the promotion, who gets the coveted job?  Well, the meat head does of course.  Because his father either runs the company or golfs with the man that does.

Forget making a difference.  As close as you’ll come is making the same mistakes in a unique manner.  Turn around and look at your parents.  That’s you in twenty years.  You’ll marry badly at least once.  You’ll drink too much.  You’ll tell your kids, “Because I said so.”

Some of you will seek elective office, wishing to be among the best and brightest, to cure society’s ills.  If you get there, after a long struggle, you’ll discover people with the intellectual curiosity of Paris Hilton and the morals of a hyena.  Oh, and the meat head will be there, too.  He might even be Governor Meat head by now.  But you will have worked so hard to get there, you’ll have forgotten the good deeds you planned to do.

Your kids will resent what your generation squandered.  You’ll hate their music.  Yet, they’ll do their best in school and try to out-work the meat head in their graduating class.  If they don’t succeed, they’ll comfort themselves with platitudes like, “Money can’t buy happiness.” 

But as I look out over your faces today, I see the meat head, sound asleep in the third row.
I don’t know, he looks pretty happy to me.


 

Please consider these other items written and/or performed by Marc Holland:

Live performances at:

http://www.youtube.com/user/itzajoke

Three plays co-written with Mike Davis-

Crenshaw Family Reunion 

Beauty and the Deceased

Night of the Livid Dad (one-act)

One play co-written with Kathy Holland-

Warren’s Peace

Are  all available at:

http://www.histage.com/searchplaycategories.asp

Coming Soon: A new one-act co-written with Kathy Holland-

Jobbed

Will be available at:

http://www.writersamuseme.com/plays.htm

Novels under the pen name Quentin Tippler-

Hats Off For Homicide

And Coming Soon:

On the QT: The Collected Short Fiction of Quentin Tippler

Are for sale at:

http://www.amazon.com/s/ref=nb_sb_noss?url=search-alias%3Ddigital-text&field-keywords=quentin%20tippler

Novels under the pen name Carl Stafford-

Son of Mann

And Coming in 2014:

Grandsons of Mann

http://www.amazon.com/s/ref=nb_sb_noss?url=search-alias%3Ddigital-text&field-keywords=carl+stafford&rh=n%3A133140011%2Ck%3Acarl+stafford

Obituary Wary

I’ve reached the age where I’ve started to look at the obituaries in the newspaper everyday.  I’m still young enough where it’s a shock if a classmate appears, but I’m old enough that I’m starting to see former teachers and elders from church.  After a while, I started reading about some of the strangers who just had an interesting picture posted next to the notice.

While I learned a great deal about the recently departed, I started taking the text with a grain of salt.  It seems every father was beloved.  Every teacher had a love for nurturing minds.  Each person listed leaves behind a grieving multitude, who will never be able to replace them.  How can this be?  What did they write when Hitler died?  “He was a good dictator”?  “He made great strides in population control”?

When the old codger across the street from me died, all I could remember was how he used to put a traffic cone in his driveway when I held family barbeques, so no one would be able to back onto his precious asphalt in order to get off our dead end street when the event was over.  I guess his obituary might say that he was survived by his beloved driveway, but I doubt it did.

Just once, I’d like to see a death notice that told the unvarnished truth.  Something like...

                           In memory of Douglas “My Way or the Highway” Stevens

After a long illness, where he drained our savings with treatments that wouldn’t work, even though he knew he was a goner.  Eighty-one years on the planet, though he claimed to be seventy-nine, like that would make a difference.

A pain in the ass to his wife and a puritanical scold to his children, Douglas looked at every situation and then did what was best for him.  A lifelong resident of Milwaukee, he was known by few and liked by fewer.

He was a member of Kiwanis, Elk’s and Rotary Club, though the membership scoured their rulebooks looking for ways to get rid of him.  Especially despised by the VFW, who remembered him as a coward first and a lying thief second.

He is survived by Mildred, his wife of sixty years, who really appreciates the break;  His son Douglas Junior, who plans to mark the one-year anniversary of his father’s death by changing his name to Wilbur; and Albert, who will not attend the funeral because he’s still steamed about his father getting drunk at Christmas and calling his daughter-in-law Betty a whore.

Douglas will be cremated because he wanted to be buried.  The family has asked that, in lieu of flowers, send a donation to finance the outhouse that will be built over the unused burial plot.

A memorial brunch is planned, where Duke, Douglas’s prized schnauzer, will be slow-cooked and eaten. 

 

Please consider these other items written and/or performed by Marc Holland:

Live performances at:

http://www.youtube.com/user/itzajoke

Three plays co-written with Mike Davis-

Crenshaw Family Reunion 

Beauty and the Deceased

Night of the Livid Dad (one-act)

One play co-written with Kathy Holland-

Warren’s Peace

Are  all available at:

http://www.histage.com/searchplaycategories.asp

Coming Soon: A new one-act co-written with Kathy Holland-

Jobbed

Will be available at:

http://www.writersamuseme.com/plays.htm

Novels under the pen name Quentin Tippler-

Hats Off For Homicide

And Coming Soon:

On the QT: The Collected Short Fiction of Quentin Tippler

Are for sale at:

http://www.amazon.com/s/ref=nb_sb_noss?url=search-alias%3Ddigital-text&field-keywords=quentin%20tippler

Novels under the pen name Carl Stafford-

Son of Mann

And Coming in 2014:

Grandsons of Mann

http://www.amazon.com/s/ref=nb_sb_noss?url=search-alias%3Ddigital-text&field-keywords=carl+stafford&rh=n%3A133140011%2Ck%3Acarl+stafford