Saturday, April 18, 2009

Where Time Stand Still...

Don't get the wrong idea, dear reader... Time standing still isn't anything that happens around here--in fact, time flies just a bit too quickly for this country boy wanna-be. Has it really been that long since my last post? So many things have drifted through my mind the last few days (okay, okay, weeks!), the least of which is "Why does a giant hafta have a companion ox who's not only named Babe but has to be blue?" Such are the drifting ruminations when the mind has time to wander. Included among these were passing glimpses into the strange mind of Jason that I felt needed to written about (although the time to do so never seemed to materialize) are
  • Who decided "clockwise" was the correct direction for things to spin?
  • Doesn't Tony Perkins ever get tired of lying about the so-called "gay agenda"? (I'm assuming he must not be a fan of top ten lists...)
  • Why must you say every single M. Night Shyamalan movie title in a Haley Joel Osment whisper?
  • Why would anyone--anyone--think that stretch pants look good on them?
Hmm... Perhaps some of these things are best left unexplored, yeah?

So, as I'm enjoying the first beautiful Saturday of the spring building the brick pathway on the right (the left hopefully to be done on the next beautiful spring Saturday...) contemplating the fact that on Friday we laid off four workers due to losing our second-biggest client on Monday, the bane of my existence (aka Luthor from across the street) decides he's going to yap my ear off for three hours... THREE MISERABLE HOURS!!! I'm all for lonely old men getting out of their homes every now and then to see what they're missing in life, but not on my time... But I deal with it, grunt an acknowledgement of his existence on this planet every now and again as I saw timber, lay sand and brick, measure distances and do higher math (aka anything more than two plus two...) to get things right and accurate until...

Man: Hi there!
Luthor: I'll see you later Jason. I haven't had breakfast yet.
Me: But it's 1:30 in the afternoon! What--? Oh...
Man: Is that your grandfather? I'd like to speak to him as well.
Me: No, and if you do find out we're related somehow, pull the plug. Who're you?
Man: Hi, I'm Stan, and I'm a member of the church just up the street, you may have heard of us? Din--
Me: Hi, Stan. Say, listen, can I ask you something?
Stan: Uh... Sure?
Me: Do people walk up to you when you're dirty, laying a brick sidewalk, listening to old men yammer endlessly?
Stan: Uh--
Me: Do I come knocking on your door to tell you the wonderful time my life is because I enter a building once a week?
Stan: I, uh....
Me: Do I look like I'm in any position to quit where I am on this project just so you can ask me if I've found the love of Jesus or some such other nonsense?
Stan: (extremely distressed look) Well, I...
Me: Fine, you don't waste my time, I won't waste any more of yours. Have a nice day.
Stan: But--
Me: I said have a nice day, Stan, now please go on about your business while not being on my property, okay?
Yes, I'm sure I took away his happy thought. In fact, I guarantee it! While I did happen to appreciate the irony of the bane of my existence being scared off by the less annoying bane of existence, really--would you walk up to someone who looked very busy, annoyed as hell at his "grandfather" (shudder shudder) while he's holding bricks, and expect him to listen to your spiel about fairy godfathers and such?

Hmm... Well, maybe you would. But I'm sick of wasting my happy garden time for yappy neighbors and holy rollers (believe it or not, Luthor's term!!). Luthor, of course, later came back to tell me that he was actually a "very nice" holy roller "for a Lutheran," but apparently didn't know "we were Baptists."

While my "baptist" status in the neighborhood came as a bit of a shock ("Who is 'we'?" I asked. "You know, real Christians, not these holy rollers!" was his reply), I asked how it was possible a man named Luthor wasn't a Lutheran? (He didn't get it--84 and addle brained!!) Thankfully, his "breakfast" was on the stove and he needed to get back. He just wanted me to know how nice the young man was...

Yeah I thought, he and his big blue ox...

At least the right half got done... Something tells me it'll be a while before I get around to the left, especially if the rest of this year follows today's pattern...

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