Kafka and Cable
Today I had a Kafkan experience. It is no longer the Count in the Castle who surrounds himself with so many maddening layers of bureaucracy. Now our “service providers” have done it. Or, to put it another way: corporations. Consider this: I call the cable company. Me: Yes, I couldn’t help noticing that my cable bill went up by twenty dollars in the last two months. Functionary: Yes, your two-year plan expired. Me: What can we do about this? Functionary: You could certainly take on an even higher bill, by adding services. Me: I don’t want those services. Functionary:...
Read MoreMy Duffel Bag Tried to Kill Me
This is the story of Joshua Greenleaf, a young man who spent three years, eight months, twenty seven days, and thirteen hours in the Army. He would tell you that the Army gave him a good education, helped him realize what he wanted to do with his life, and helped him grow and mature. Nevertheless, he hated the army. He appreciated what the Army did for him, but he could never adjust to being owned. While he was in the Army, in the back of his mind, there was always the thought that Lincoln freed the slaves, but forgot to free enlisted men. This is his story, a story that starts with a...
Read MoreDirty Money
“Ten fifty-dollar bills, please, dear.” The elderly woman, so short she could barely see over the counter, slid her bank card through the slot too slowly. Teller Wyndy Elkins smiled, took her card, and expertly glided it through. Maybe Wyndy was hungry, but her mouth salivated slightly as she noted that the customer’s outfit — a worn, caramel-colored cape with white fur lining. It reminded Wyndy of a cream-filled donut. The woman’s face seemed familiar, though Wyndy didn’t think she had waited on her before. The account appeared on her screen. Clare Cormer. Balance:...
Read MoreTo Hell in a Handbasket
In Exodus 20:8 of the King James Bible, God commands, “Remember the Sabbath day, to keep it holy.” My mother, in her continuous quest to commune with the Almighty, made sure that not a single Sabbath day passed that she and her three little daughters were not in Sunday School at Liberty Baptist Church, and the expletives she spouted while trying to get us there reinforced just how holy the day was. “Holy mother of God, you three are going to be the death of me.” “Holy shit, I’ve got a run in my pantyhose!” “Holy hell, we’re going to be late!” she...
Read MoreQuestionable Behavior
Dear Addie, I must confess, my husband Bill and I are not regular readers of your column, but we hope you won’t hold it against us. A good friend of ours said that if anyone can help us, it’s you, so here goes: Our eleven-year-old son Toby will not stop asking questions. From the moment he opens his eyes in the morning ’til he reluctantly closes them at night, it never ends. And I mean that literally. Just today, when I woke him for school, the first words out of his mouth were, “Mom, where is sleep?” “What do you mean, honey?” I asked him. “When you go to sleep, where do you...
Read MoreNature’s New Generation
The young lady delivers her first child but continues to have fits of cramps, and the doctor says, “I see something else.” He grips the forceps to extract the emerging object from the lady’s body. “Is it another baby?” she says. “What is it?” Perspiration coats her rosy face. But the confounded doctor doesn’t answer. He struggles with the emerging object. The young lady screams; she grips the hospital bed sheets. He pulls out the object — what on earth? It’s a square object covered in thick plastic, which the doctor has...
Read More