Succinctly Yours Week 159: A Picture is Worth...140 Words

Thank you to Grandma’s Goulash for hosting Succinctly Yours! The idea of this meme is to use the picture to tell a story in 140 words or 140 characters. The bonus word was “yearn.” I cheated and changed the bonus word's tense. I have two this week, at 118 and 96 characters.

Ever the narcissist, Joey liked to point out his picture for tourists. He yearned for them to say his good looks knew no bounds. 

Ever the ham, Joanne liked to pose next to her picture for tourists. She yearned to have that audience in her pocket. 

He had an opinion of himself, I think, that was too high for his own good.  Or maybe it was the reverse.  Maybe it was a low opinion that he kept trying to erase.  ~Tim O’Brien, The Things They Carried

Improper Poll: In a Word

Recently at work I read parts of Life’s Greatest Lessons. In it, the author, Hal Urban, discussed the idea of constantly being reminded by the words “think” and “thank.”

That got me thinking: if you could have one word posted where you would see it every day as a reminder, what word would you choose? I think mine might be the word, “grateful.” The more I see what can go wrong in life, the more grateful I am for the things that are right.

In fact, a friend and I were talking about this the other day. Why is it that the people we know who have it easiest in life are those who seem to think they are perpetually suffering? They have a talent for getting people to rally around them and do things for them while they sit back and complain. These people are invariably masters of the double standard. They don’t seem to return the things they ask for. When asked why, they say it’s because they are more sensitive than others. So sensitive that they will beat people to a bloody pulp with their “I’m Sensitive” signs and then tell them they are mean for running away.

I’m convinced that the happiest people in life are not those who have it easiest. The people who have the things that look like they should be happy struggle so hard to look better than others that I can’t help but wonder if they feel worse.

My friend and I concluded that it’s really the grateful who are the most happy in life. If you could have any one word posted as a reminder where you would see it every day, what would that word be?

Here’s to a happy—and grateful—2013!

Improper Poll: Ten Alternate Signs for Discouraging Salespeople

1. I ♥ My Rottweiler…and My Rottweiler ♥s Attacking Door-to-Door Salespeople.
2. Welcome to the center for the communicable diseases halfway house. If latex glove and mask receptacles are missing, please ring doorbell and step back ten paces. We suggest you wash your hands real well as soon as you can, too.
3. Welcome salespeople! Please ring doorbell so I can tell you all about my religion! Two hour time frames are required, so please bring your own beverage and a light snack. Doors lock from the outside.
4. Smile—you’re on hidden camera. Okay, now dance a little. Swing your hips more. That’s nice. And can you unbutton your shirt just a few buttons? Good….
5. Dear salespeople, please come right in and leave your literature and tools in the pile with all the other ones. Come and find ♪ me in the root ♫ cellar!
6. Dear salespeople, please deposit pants in the receptacle on your left, enter, turn to your right, and state your name clearly into the microphone.
7. This home is guarded by head lice.  Slide the medication under the door and back away.
8. Please be advised that the ringer of this doorbell or pounder on this door, hereafter referred to as “Guest,” hereby agrees to pay Door Access Fee of $100 (one hundred and no/100 dollars) before obtaining ingress to this residence. (a.) The following actions shall be collectively considered as attempts to gain entrance, including and without limitation: ringing doorbell or touching doorbell in such a way as to create audible noise; knocking; pounding; scratching; thumping; tapping, and/or kicking with any body part and/or object or creating any sound with the express purpose of obtaining attention of doorbell owner, hereafter referred to as “Queen Spiffy.” Deposit cash (correct change only) under door before ringing. Personal checks or debit cards not accepted, but expensive gifts will be considered. Standing on doorstep reading this sign will be considered the legal equivalent of binding agreement. If Guest is unable or unwilling to remit heretofore stated door fees, wages will automatically be garnisheed and fines of not less than $5000 (five thousand dollars) will be imposed. Queen Spiffy might not answer as per Doorbell Act (D.A.) 78-39550.   
9. This home is Clowns Only. Please don either the “Nerdoux” or “Mr. Puffypants” costumes (located in shrubbery bin) before ringing bell. Note that all parts are required, including noses, hats, wigs, and blinking suspenders. You must have Queen Spiffy’s prior written approval should you wish to bring your own costume.
10. Our house is protected by the Good Lord and a gun. Also a bent nine iron, a virulent case of scabies, some roman candles, some pretty smelly garbage, a potato shooter, a rather amorous, ankle-humping Chihuahua with a bad case of fleas, some especially icky spit wads, a guy wearing camouflage and goggles nicknamed “Bean Dip,” an awesome homemade slingshot made with those really big rubber bands like the kind that come on broccoli, and some expired eggs that’s mighty good for throwin’.

Do you have any suggestions for new signage that might discourage door-to-door salespeople?

Signs Vs. Zombies

Here is a confession: Today I slammed a door in a man’s face. I hate that I’ve become one of those people, but I just don’t know what more I can do.

I’ve already posted about how much I hate people who ignore my “No Soliciting” sign. This year we had a huge hail storm that damaged enough roofs in my area that the salespeople and/or insurance scammers are out in droves. I don’t know if it’s because I’m on a main corner or what, but they come to my door several times a day.

This particular one came early in the morning when my daughter was still asleep. I can see out the front window from my office, so I watched him position himself directly in front of my “No Soliciting” sign and ring my doorbell.

I didn’t go to the door. I figured I’d just let the sign do the talking. But when I didn’t materialize at the door right away, he began pounding so loudly it scared me. What if he wasn’t a salesperson! What if he was from the gas company, and he was there to warn us that we had to evacuate our house in seconds because a gas line was leaking and my house was getting ready to blow?! He was pounding with that much urgency.

So I answered. Know what he had the gall to say? The words out of his mouth were, “Oh, sorry, I didn’t see your sign, but let me just tell you….”

Didn’t see it? Seriously? I am not a door-decorating kind of gal.  It's literally right there in black and white.  In fact, here is an actual photograph of my front door: 

 So far I’ve had them claim they were doing a customer service update. Or they were there to introduce themselves. Or they want to ask me something. Or just tell me a little about their company. I’ve had them scare the heck out of me—several times—by wandering around to my back yard (presumably to avoid the sign) in order to pound on a side door. They are getting to be like those rabid, pasty creatures in I Am Legend. Or the zombies in “Plants Vs. Zombies.” Except I only wish my plants would attack them before they reach my door.

So when the guy claimed not to have seen the sign on my door, I slammed. And then I added a sign to the side door and another sign to the sign:

 Later I heard a timid tapping coming from somewhere. I had no idea where until I went out and discovered that the substitute mailman had left packages at my garage door. I don’t even know how he got in there, but it was the only door that didn’t have a hostile sign.

Good people don't rip other people's arms off. -Spongebob Squarepants

It was a Sign

I owe it all to Sioux. Or should I say, “blame?” Well, Sioux and Mrs. Buffa. Because I did think of Sioux’s endearing story, “Trained by the Best,” that appeared in Sasee magazine a few months ago, when I stopped at the corner stop sign while leaving my subdivision and accidentally made eye contact with the two little boys who were selling something.

 The eye contact, of course, was my first mistake. But it was a hot day, and I was looking around for the lemonade, and there was none. Instead, there was a box. That, and an elaborately decorated cardboard sign I couldn’t read. I positively couldn’t resist wanting to know what two boys—maybe nine years old—were selling out of that box. Animal? Vegetable? Mineral?

I strained so much that they had to bring the sign over to me so I could read it. Then I had to roll down my window so they could tell me what the sign said, because it was really bad handwriting. Then they had to show me, because I still couldn’t understand them.

Sometimes innocence is genius itself. Because by that point, of course, I pretty much had to buy whatever it was. Even if it was hissing cockroaches in that box.

Which thankfully it wasn’t. It was Shrunken Head Dude here, with his unibrow and devil-may-care whiskers, a bargain at $1. Do you know what he is? Because I had no idea. I had to ask them several times. Stress balls. He is delightfully squishy. Is he dead? My daughter surmised that he is sleeping. Whew. I’d hate to think the stress killed him.

Anyway, thanks to Sioux and Mrs. Buffa, I had coincidentally been feeling very stressed indeed. By the way, his face was much clearer when I bought him a few weeks ago. I left him on the center island where my kids and their friends play with him every time they gather. Thanks, Sioux. And thanks, Mrs. Buffa. Some purchases are worth a lot more than their price tag.

Children are our most valuable resource. ~Herbert Hoover

Improper Poll: Wave Away

Years ago, an elderly man used to stand next to a busy street near here and hold up a sign advertising roses. He’d wave as people drove by. It was quaint. It was sweet. And it was so impressive that a man his age could withstand the elements—not to mention holding his arm up all day—that he was a bit of a legend in my area. The local paper even did an article on him. We always waved back. He was our friend even though we’d never met him. He was affectionately known as The Rose Man.

I haven’t seen The Rose Man in many years, but apparently before he left, he went forth and populated our town with waving, sign-holding Progeny-from-Hell. They are everywhere.

Yesterday I drove down that same busy street, which is admittedly even busier. We passed dueling, dancing rival pizza slices on either side of the street, some tax people, the person holding up a sign advertising “We Buy Gold,” someone in a gorilla suit (no idea why), somebody holding up a sign that might have been for birth control services or possibly against them, I couldn’t tell which, and someone else whose sign was much too small for me to read and might have been picketing something. All of them were dancing around and/or waving.

At the risk of sounding crotchety, all that leaping and gyrating and sign holding and waving annoyed the hell out of me and made it hard to drive. It was like having a bunch of little kids scream at the top of their lungs at the same time, “Look at me! No, me! Me me me!!!”

The worst was one I saw the other day. I don’t know what she was advertising, but I got a good look at her from behind while waiting for my light to change. She was obviously so cold and so tired that she’d hold her sign up a while and then let it drop, then stumble out what might have been a half-hearted little jig or possibly a foot that had fallen asleep. Either way, it looked painful. And it made me hate the company she works for, honestly, for making a person suffer through that.

So my improper questions for today are, do you have those waving, sign holding people in your area? And if so, do you feel obligated to wave back? Do they really get your business, or do they drive it away? Do you wave at little kids going by on amusement park trains, and why do we pretend that’s a parade when it isn’t?

Stuff from Around My House: The Love Notes

My daughter went through a stage where she made little love notes for me. I knew that stage wouldn’t last forever, so I saved every one and stuck them up all over my office. One day my (then) teen-aged son asked me why I cherished those weird little scraps of paper so much. I told him those weird little scraps remind me that I am loved, and there is no better gift than that. He told me I should just know that I am loved.

What followed was a lecture on What Women Want that I hope he found at least as instructive as all that biology stuff. And I got one love note from my son. It was hurriedly scrawled on a scrap of paper, but still—to this day, it remains carefully taped to my printer with the others.

 He once asked me when I plan to get rid of my love notes. I said, “Get rid of them?” When they eventually disintegrate, I will laminate them. Yep, I’m a dork. But I am a LOVED dork.

And P.S. Welcome to Val Thevictorian!  Val, do you have a blog?  If so, I couldn't find it.  Thanks for becoming a follower!

Do I only have two pictures total now?!  Arg!  This is so frustrating!

Through the hands of such as these God speaks, and from behind their eyes He smiles upon the earth. ~Kahlil Gibran

Stuff from Around my House: Heart-rended

I love it because my daughter bought it for me at the school fundraiser when she was little. And I hate it because she bought it at the school fundraiser of all places. Surely someone there should have caught such a glaring grammatical mistake! This hangs near my desk. All these years later, that apostrophe STILL drives me nuts. Making plural’s into possessive’s is one of my biggest pet peeve’s. Or is it a contraction for Mom IS?

But I love that she bought me a cute little heart-sign! With her little pennies! Stupid, grammatically incorrect sign!

Torture. Just torture.

Sign taped to a desk in a 6th grade science room: Mrs. McNerney Rox! Woot Woot! Ooooh ya Go go go!

And Speaking of Signs

I have a teen and a young adult at home. We keep this dry erase board on the refrigerator to let each other know where we are, when we’ll be home, etc. My son and his friends think it’s funny. Wise guys.

At least no one said, “Went to the bathroom.”

Do Not Lock This Door! See Smaller Sign Below!

                   This Door Is To Be Kept Unlocked At All Times

                                    
~Sign seen hanging on a door at a local high school

Beware Ye Who Ignore the Sanctity of the Sign

This is my No Soliciting sign. You tell me:  Is there anything unclear about it?  Because I find it’s one of the sad ironies of life that Boy and Girl Scouts are the only salespeople on earth who seem to know the definition of soliciting. And of course they are the only groups for whom the sign is not intended.

I think I nearly have my technique down for those who ignore it. I look for my beloved sign and ask, “Did my sign fall down?” It’s always there, of course, so I point to it. “No!” I say, “There it is!” Then I quietly shut the door.

Because it shocks me how many people ignore the sign. I know people need to make a living and all, but it is generally accepted that we don’t disrespect others to do it.  And I figure my sign pretty much warns them that I am not going to be terribly receptive to whatever it is they want me to do.

According to Dictionary.com, a definition of soliciting is: “To seek to obtain by persuasion, entreaty, or formal application.” I looked it up, because one guy tried to tell me that soliciting only referred to sales, and he just wanted to ask me to change my religion. Or sometimes they just want to ask me a question, which turns out to be do I want to buy their product or service. Once someone told me his sales pitch was a “customer service update.”   Here’s news, Mr. door-to-door Customer Service Updater: poop, by any other name, still stinks.

Then today, a guy who was apparently working for a politician came to my door at the wrong time. I had my headset on to make a phone call as soon as a fax had gone through, which I was hoping to get accomplished before leaving for an appointment that I was trying not to be late for.

He told me he needed to get so many names of people who believed in non-violence. Was I non-violent?

I wasn’t trying to be sarcastic. Really. It just came out. I pointed to the sign, then my phone, and earnestly exclaimed, “No, I am extremely violent.”

He ran. Actually ran! Well, to be technical about it, he stumbled backwards a few paces first.

No Motorcycles

No Chicken Suits

No Exceptions

~Sign from TV show, “My Name is Earl”