Political Economics Quiz

Which of these costs $80,000 and your career?





Copyright ©  2008 thehumorsmithchronicle

POV

"Isn't this whole thing very egocentric?"

"Well, yeah. It is first person narrative, you know."

That was a conversation I had years ago in a creative writing class. I couldn't believe the prof actually asked, but she did. I was remembering that today and it occurred to me that perhaps we're not always the best narrators of our own lives. From a subjective standpoint it's very hard to maintain our objectivity. Try describing a whirlwind while you're standing at its center and you'll understand. Calm eye of the storm my ass.

"Hey, why are you standing there like that?"

Jake had just been handed an astonishing piece of news which he was trying mightily to digest, so Brianna's question definitely struck him wrong. "Shut up", he snarled.

Her eyes widened at him, and he thought he saw the beginnings of moisture at their corners. Ah damn.

"Did you just snarl at me?"

Jake nodded. "Yup."

"Why?"

"Are you kidding? You just told me you were leaving me."

"Well, that's no reason to get so emotional. It's not like we were really involved."

"After three years? Not involved? How long does it usually take?"

"There you go again, raising your voice. How should I know how long it takes? Involvement is hard to time."

"I dunno. I feel like I just did hard time. What made you stay then, the sex?"

"Nah. The sex wasn't that good."

"I should have known when you kept asking for the remote. Then was it the money?"

Brianna laughed loudly. "You don't have any."

Jake was completely dumbfounded. What the hell had she hung around for? "Then why did you stay?"

She shrugged, a gesture more eloquent than words. It was obvious she had absolutely no idea. "You were, uh,"

"Familiar?" he prompted, and she nodded contemptuously. Wow, there it was right in front of him. Familiarity and its offspring, which was probably why she was leaving.

"And you made me laugh."

Jake stared at her. "You hung around me not for sex or money, but for comic relief?"

Brianna nodded again, and after a few long moments, Jake began laughing so hard he was afraid he'd hurt himself. The irony was thick. He'd been so concerned about making others laugh all his life, and his best audience had been right under him. Well, he thought so anyway; honestly, it had sometimes been difficult to tell, though the occasional muffled requests for electronic equipment or new carpeting had helped reassure him she was at least in the room.

There you have it, a life scene in third person omniscient. Tell the truth, if you had the choice, wouldn't you write better stories for yourself? Isn't objectivity easier than the opposite? Certainly things work out better when you can manipulate the players, though this one didn't end all that badly in reality. If you're curious, later that day, I went back to our apartment and did the dead fish dance with her in honor of our sex life, or mine at least. Hey, there's funny and then there's funny. Everything depends on your point of view.


Copyright ©  2008 thehumorsmithchronicle

Seriously Funny

"You're too glib", said my district manager. I looked at him with my mouth open. Was that a criticism? Was it possible to be "too glib"? If true, it meant a personality transplant at the least. I had based my entire life on glib. Glib was me, glib was good, glib was an honor badge from witty class. Glib was my fantasy music group, the B G's, Brothers Glib. Just to be clear, I mean the humorous kind of glib here, not your superficial, insincere glib. I am very sincerely superficial, thank you.

I was crestfallen. I left that meeting shaken and not stirred, I was speechless, and that's a rare occurrence for me. After all, my interaction with the world is mainly verbal, and my verbal is mostly glib. I was a salesman, and salesmen are naturally talkative. Ever try selling something by mime?

I learned other things from that meeting: I made my co-workers nuts,and I was too quick witted. Apparently always having an answer is not a good thing. Seriously, my DM felt my sense of humor was a liability, but I had always considered it an asset. It was at that point I began to think perhaps I wasn't suited for the business world. If I drove my fellow employees to distraction, either I needed an off switch or a new career, and there's the problem: what does a creative person, a self-styled king of the snappy one liners, a wannabe Hawkeye Pierce, do for income? I had tried standup comedy, but I don't have the patience for the endless rehearsing and life on the road. Comedy writing has a huge pitfall; they'd love to hire you, just show them some published clips.Published? As in your work is accepted by a publisher? Or a tv or radio show? I have written for radio and tv, but here's something insidious about writing comedy:no one takes you seriously. They think it is effortless to write wittily, and that anyone can do it, and therefore you will always be undervalued. People love to laugh, they just don't like paying a good price for it, which is where we get the term "cheap laughs".

I think part of the problem is that really funny people make it look easy; the audience doesn't see all the sweat that goes into even just a 10 minute routine. Right now I'm sounding morose about comedy, and that kinda kills the effect I'm going for. Don't misunderstand me, comedy can be deep at times, even profound, but if it depresses you, something's wrong. Despite the cliche of the tragedian inside the comedian, scratch a clown and you'll get spritzed with seltzer water nine times out of ten. Number ten will be a custard pie.

With the Internet and blogging, I have found the perfect outlet for my creative juices, even though I have to stop typing every couple minutes and wipe off the screen; it's frustrating how easily creative juices smear. The great thing is if I drive anyone nuts, I don't see them leaving my page, so it's out of site, out of mind. I find it important to stay informed to feed the comedy mill in my head, and also to keep up with my fellow humor bloggers, and web surfing lets me do that. Plus,with blogging, my writing is published. As to income from comedy, or funny money, well, I'm still working on that. $eriously.

Copyright ©  2008 thehumorsmithchronicle

Virtually Dateless

Online dating sites, not to be confused with virtual dating, which is a whole issue by itself. Pretty scary. Some charge a fee, others don't, but I'm not sure the whole thing is a good idea. Granted, it gives me the opportunity to strike out with a great many women in a relatively short period of time, but really. What's wrong with the old fashioned methods? Lately I find myself getting nostalgic for the sound of all the women at one table laughing as I slink back across the bar after being shot down. Admit it ladies, don't you miss the look on a guy's face after you've reduced him to jelly with your witticisms? Isn't it just a little sterile turning us down online? Where's the fun in that?

And fellas, come on, you don't get to continue the search for that great opening line. It takes away all the challenge when you can sit at your computer and edit the thing to ribbons before you press "send". Yes, you don't have that long walk to your table after a putdown, but you also don't get an instant reaction to your bon mots, and that saddens me a bit. It can take a while before you know how you're doing with an online encounter, and since all the "chatting up" has already been done,the first "dates" are usually fifteen minutes at a Starbucks. That's not a date, that's a handshake. You simply can't expect to feel anything less than superficial about someone that quickly. I know it's the new thing, but first impressions are not made to build a lasting relationship on. What if you have a hunk of snot in your nose? Broccoli in your teeth? A purple tie with a bright yellow suit? Okay, some of you guys are fine with that, and I think you know who you are. Dating is problematic for you, virtual or reality, so you can just look on this as hopeful advice for the future.

Yet life altering decisions are made in those fifteen minutes. I don't know about you, but that's way too much pressure for me. It's like I'm a performing seal; I sit at the table and the woman throws the conversational ball on my nose and I'm supposed to keep it there without letting it drop. If I don't the whole thing's over. All the while the guy inside my head is stressing out: "Does she like me? How'm I doing? Do I have anything in my teeth? Are my shoes tied? Will I have sex with someone besides myself in the near future?" See what I mean? Pressure.

Maybe the old way wasn't perfect, but it gave us time. If we got the nod, we could spend a couple hours talking over music, or go somewhere quiet. We knew what each other looked like from the beginning, which is another quibble I've got with online dating. A great many people don't post pictures, and many that do post someone else's picture. I'm pretty sure that woman I was emailing a couple months ago wasn't really Charlize Theron, but she wrote terrific emails. The guys are just as bad, and I ask, what's the point? The second she sees you're not the guy on the web page, she's outta there like a virgin at the Playboy Mansion. It offends and troubles me that any of you would actually try to pass yourself off as someone you're not. By the way, if you happen to run across my photo and profile on a dating site, let me clear this up right now: Yes,I am virtually Brad Pitt.

Copyright ©  2008 thehumorsmithchronicle

Discommoding

Let's see....this is day, um. I seem to have lost count.The great unemployment adventure of 2008 is beginning to seem like one really long month. Or two.

Could be worse. I could be stuck to the toilet seat. Did you hear about that? The woman stays in the bathroom for two years and the boyfriend just recently called the authorities, and then only after she'd been sitting on the toilet for a month and her ass had gone Zen Buddhist and become one with the seat. That's why I keep only magazines in my bathroom. There is no chance I will ever get so engrossed in Entertainment Weekly that I lose track of time like that chick did. I learned my lesson when I took War and Peace to the john with me, but fortunately I found the story very moving.

That brings up a question, (well, several really), but I wonder: do you think your significant other is that clueless? If you moved into the bathroom, how long do you think it would be before help was summoned? And exactly what does that say about the relationship? Leaving out scatological comments,how bad does it have to get for your lover to run away to the commode? That's classic passive aggressive behavior. "I'm leaving you, but I'm just going to be in here." If you're going to end it,then go all the way. Up until now, I thought the worst way to dump (sorry!) your mate was via email or text message, but a potty breakup? Besides, doesn't breaking up usually mean you want to get as far away from the breakee as you can?

I know I'm gonna catch hell for this, but that's something only a woman would do. There is no way a guy would end a relationship by moving into the bathroom. A guy would move into the media room and get an easement for the bathroom.

Copyright ©  2008 thehumorsmithchronicle

The Blank Slate

She fixed him with an icy gaze and said, "When I told you I wanted some strange stuff, I didn't think you'd stay strange through the whole date."

He thought he'd misheard. He whirled to face her, his drink held at eye level, and peered at her through the ice. "Here's looking at you sweetheart", he muttered.

"See? You're doing it again. Is that supposed to be Bogart?"

He shifted his glass slightly, letting the ice tinkle, and said,"What are you talking about?"

"You're pulling your upper lip back when you talk. And you said, "Shweetheart".

"No, I didn't. I distinctly said, "sweetheart".

"Well,it came out "shweetheart". And you've had that raincoat on all evening, and we're in the middle of a drought. BTW,you going to drink that bourbon or keep using it as a monocle?"

"Don't crack wise, shis...sister, and I've told you about talking like your email. I don't like it.I never have, see?"

She laughed harshly."Of course you'd say that, king of the retros. I keep expecting to see dust fly off you when you move.I can't believe I was attracted to you when I met you.You seemed so different then.Now I feel like I'm with a not so clever mimic, a Zelig without the talent."

He slitted his eyelids and looked steadily at her. Oddly,Loretta and everything around her suddenly looked like old movie footage, with a sepia, almost amber monochrome appearance. Could she be right? How retro could he get? As panic started to rise and he felt something had come unstuck, that he was truly becoming part of the past, his hand shook, the ice clattered against the glass, and he realized he was still looking at her through the liquor.Or is that licking through the looker, he thought, and giggled quickly.

Loretta's head snapped up. "What's so funny?"

"All this, don't you think? Why it's easy to see that we're just a couple madcaps." Quick recovery.He was adept at backing and filling.

"Hum.Speak for yourself, IMO."

Egad...could it be she was onto him? Could she know he actually had no personality of his own, that he was as empty inside as Paris Hilton and Lindsay Lohan put together? Hey, that was a nice image; for once his inner screen was filled with something other than film clips.He smiled and had begun nodding his head when a derisive snort from Loretta brought him back to reality, or at least his version of it. He was hollow, yes, but what could you expect of someone whose entire life had been lived through television shows, movies and comic books? He, Baxter, yes, that's right, he was Baxter, he would never believe fantasy could harm him.Make it difficult to get some, yes, but harm? Speaking of which,get hold of yourself, Bax. Think. She said she found you attractive when she met you. Think now, boy. Who...when was that? The memory seared across his mind like the barrel of a pistol whipping gun. "Excuse me, shwee-sweetheart. I'll be right back."

"I can hardly wait. Give me a hint: who will come back?"

He ignored the arch question and scuttled off to the bedroom. Ten minutes later, he ambled casually back to her, shoulders straight, chest thrust proudly forward. The tuxedo was perfectly pressed, the pocket square and bow tie immaculate.

"Well, that's better. Much. I've gotta tell you, when I saw how you were dressed earlier this evening, I felt like ROFLMFAO.Seriously, who wears a fedora anymore? But this is more like it. Remember that first night at the Hyatt?"

"I will never forget. I saw you at the bar in that gorgeous midnight blue Chanel number, and I knew I had to meet you."

She looked down and saw he'd ditched the bourbon.He must have a bar in the bedroom as well she thought, because he was holding a martini with a lemon twist.He did look handsome in the tux, and there was something about it that was so comforting and familiar,sexy touched with the subtlest hint of mystery. He was suave in the tux, he seemed debonair and so self assured.She leaned against him and laid her head on his shoulder.

"Remember how I walked up to you and introduced myself?"

She nodded, and he went on, "Good evening. My name is Todd, Baxter Todd."

She looked up with a start and opened her mouth to lambaste him for that ludicrous faux British accent when his lips came down on hers and all thought of protest was gone.One more night, she thought lazily. I'll give him just one more night.WYSIWYG.


Copyright ©  2008 thehumorsmithchronicle

The Sweater

"Most men lead lives of quiet perspiration."- HumorSmith

Hence the saying "never let 'em see you sweat." This advice works best if you can manage to always perspire in the dark, or at least wear dark clothes. How the heck did I get on this tangent? Oh, right. I'm unemployed, thus I am constantly assailed by random thoughts. I idle, therefore I am.

I am one of the fortunate few who sweats internally, so showing visible signs of anxiety is not an issue. Good thing,too,for at this particular time in my life if inner feelings did show, I would at the very least be voted by my neighbors as most likely to go postal, although that term is probably outdated now. Perhaps most likely to go "disgruntled university student".

I have discovered being out of a job is not the worst thing that could happen. I suppose that's pragmatic of me, but really. I am not finished yet. Even if I was, and I know I can't call a "do over", I'm pretty sure I could get refinished.

It is very important to keep a positive outlook and do things to lift your spirits. When life hands you lemons,make martinis.When life hands you onions,make gibsons.When life hands you sour grapes,stay away from me,I have enough issues. When life hands you a beautiful person, well I'm pretty confident you don't need my advice there. And if life ever does hand you one of those, please let me know exactly how. I continually walk around with my hands outstretched and open, and nothing happens, though it does make for some pretty interesting rides in crowded elevators.

Truth be told, the most uplifting experience I've had lately was in an elevator. I almost had an epiphany,but the guy next to me was perspiring in a white shirt and that brought me right back to the damp, clammy pits of randomness.

Copyright ©  2008 thehumorsmithchronicle

Wait

And wait......and wait..
Well, you get the idea. That's the hardest part of the job search, waiting on the responses to your applications. It helps to remember that employers aren't working on your time schedule. I'm not sure whose schedule they're on, but it isn't mine either.
It also helps to think of things you can do to make yourself more attractive to prospective employers. Good place to start is with your resume. There are lots of good books out there to help you polish it up, and if you really want to go the extra mile, you can engage a professional resume writing service. Not having an income makes that problematic for some of us, though. Sometimes it's hard not to give into despair, but there you run the risk of coming across as too needy. Yeah, I know and you know we need a job, but the hiring managers don't have to know that. No....hold on. If the hiring managers think I don't need a job, then....for some odd reason, my head hurts. Ah well...(I seem to be heavy on the ellipsis today. Sorry.)

Once your resume looks sharp, you can move on to personal grooming. Although you don't want to look desperate, you also don't want to go to an interview looking like the winner of Survivor: Death Valley. Bathe, brush, shave. Dress nice. That way, even if you don't get hired, you can go somewhere for lunch and maybe meet someone to help you forget your troubles. I'm a firm believer in planning ahead. Just make sure they're buying. Remember, no job=no pay, and that's just not sexy.

You will find time on your hands and that can be an issue for some of us. You can address this several ways. For instance, you can clean house. Oh wow...I can't believe I just said that. Not even three weeks out of work and I'm getting hysterical. Okay, then head to the used bookstore for some inexpensive reading. Walk your cat. Trim your nose and ear hairs and make the clippings into a collage. Likewise toe and fingernails. I may not know art, but I know what I like. Arrange everything in your refrigerator alphabetically. Call your home phone from your cell phone and leave messages pretending you're a hiring manager. Try not to be disappointed when you return the call and realize you're not really a hiring honcho. That took me some time to get over,but right now that's what I've got: time to wait....


Copyright ©  2008 thehumorsmithchronicle

Job? We Ain't Got No Job!

Apologies to Bogart film lovers for today's title. Looks like my coffee was a bit too bitter this morning. I did answer the question "Am I working yet?", though. Finding a job is a job in itself. The best advice I can give you is do not spend more than a couple days wallowing in self pity after being cut loose from your employer. Or more than three weeks wallowing in vodka. Wait....maybe that's just me.

Like riding a bike, it's important to make sure you know how to handle a 10-speed. No, wait. Damn! I am having analogy problems today. Kinda strange, too, as my alogy was hay fever, but it went away when I moved to Arizona. So did my marriage, but that's a story for another day.

Try this: losing a job is like being thrown from a horse. You have to get right back in the saddle. That's the best antidote to depression I've yet found. That and a date with someone really attractive, but that takes money. Make sure your resume is current, and then post it online at Monster, Jobing, Career Builder, and all the other job sites you can find. The beauty of these sites is they allow you to narrow your job search to the specific field(s) you're interested in, and the specific locations. That saves a lot of legwork. When you apply for a job on these sites, you have the option of which resume to send, assuming you have more than one posted, and whether or not to send a cover letter. I highly recommend having at least a couple resumes up because this allows you to apply to employers who have varying experience and skill sets requirements. There's no sense limiting your options. I can easily and quickly apply to 50 or more jobs a day, and still have ample time to get a tan and finish watching all 9 seasons of X-Files dvds.

It's vital to hit the ground running when you become jobless. Take me for example, (somebody please??), the day I got home after being terminated,(don't you just love that word? As if merely being fired doesn't sound final enough.), I came home and immediately sprang into action. First, I punched a huge hole in the wall, kicked my closet door off the track, set fire to my job training manuals,and cut all my work clothes into ribbons. Then I sat down at the computer and hit the job boards. I have always been proud of my ability to calmly and maturely cope with whatever particular lemons life hands me.

A friend of mine once remarked,"If the Universe is testing me, can't I just have an oral?" Too bad it doesn't work that way. I'm running low on vodka.


Copyright ©  2008 thehumorsmithchronicle

Day One....okay, really Day 18

Years from now, when I am famous, I will revisit this post and laugh. That's not quite right; the idea is to be laughing now. After all, he who laughs last just doesn't get the joke.

Currently on my 18th day unemployed, I have decided the only thing left to do is laugh. I am mere days from eviction, I have no money to pay my bills, so here I sit. They always said, "HumorSmith, someday you'll guffaw." Frankly I'm amazed I got this faw.

This blog will deal with many things, for the next little while though, I will be writing about the "Great Job Search", in which I conclude "The Great Job" is much like "The Great Pumpkin", except not as easy to find.

Wow, this is pretty depressing stuff for a humor blog. They say all great art comes from suffering. Not quite true; my brother in law Art is from Portland.

I wonder if it's possible to make a career out of unemployment? The bigger worry for me is what I'm going to do when I run out of dvds to watch. Gee, maybe I could actually go to a movie.

Copyright ©  2008 thehumorsmithchronicle