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Movers and Shakers Vs. Losers and Fakers

11 Nov

from June 21, 2007

Movers and Shakers. Yes! Power people! They get things done!!!!!! (And use lots of exclamation points!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!)

Losers and Fakers. The dregs and drags. Bums who never ever use exclamation points in a sincere manner. Why? Because they’re fakers!

Well, the world can be divided into two categories.*

Firstly we have the movers and shakers. These are the men (and/or women) with whom you’d love to be trapped on an island with because:

A- They’d get you rescued

and

B- Some women look really hot in a business suit. **

Then there are the losers and fakers. If you had the misfortune to first be trapped on an island, and then discover that you were stuck with, on said island, this group of  slackers, then your only hope would be that the cannibals over on the next island get all fat and lazy on the others so you can steal one of their boats and get the hell out of there, because being stuck the losers and fakers means that island is your new home.

Famous Movers and Shakers:

George Washington

Genghis Khan

James T. Kirk

Famous Losers and Fakers:

Kato Kaelin

Jeff Spicoli

Gilligan

So ask yourself this: If you were trapped on an island, would you rather be stuck with Gilligan or Genghis Khan?

Before you answer, check this out:

Gilligan, from Wikipedia: The majority of episodes involved some failed attempt to get off the deserted island.

Gengis Khan, from Wikipedia: Genghis Khan is an iconic and beloved figure in Mongolia, where he is seen as the father of the Mongol Nation. On the other hand, he was responsible for the violent death of more people than any other individual before the 20th century. In many areas of southwestern Asia and Europe, he is still seen as a ruthless and bloodthirsty conquerer

I’d take my chances with Genghis.***

So what does this have to do with anything? Well, like most of what I write, not much, but I have to write something and if I wrote what I really wanted to write then Bonnie would be mad at me.

(By the way, if you haven’t yet read any of the footnotes, go ahead and do it now. I’ll wait.)

But somehow the losers manage to survive. Despite the fact that Genghis would probably whip up the locals into an army and conquer the surrounding islands, wouldn’t you rather be stuck with Gilligan? Because the odds are pretty good that, eventually, Genghis would kill you. The worst thing Gilligan will do is maybe drink the Professor’s cocoanut colada.

Losers serve society in at least one important way. They make us feel good about ourselves. For example, take the LHS Social Studies department. Case closed.

Fakers can also be cool.**** OK, George Costanza himself may not be cool, but wouldn’t it be cool to pretend you were an architect? Or even pretend to be a viable Presidential candidate, like John Edwards does?

But I guess the fakers are just more creative. Movers and shakers may get all the wealth and perks, but how many of them know how it feels to construct a web of lies and live in terror that you may forget who you told what lie and your whole house of deceit is just one mistake away from collapsing? Welcome to my life, Bill Gates!

*Or more.

**Before you call me sexist, I admit it ladies- I am sexist. So since we are agreed on that point don’t get all pms-y over this.

***This reminds me of a funny story. Back in junior high I had a history teacher who was so fat he would actually use his stomach as a globe. He’d point out a spot on his chest to represent, say, Outer Mongolia, and rotate himself so that his back was facing us and he’d use a pointer to pick out a spot on his back representing, say, Peru. That was the year that I realized that I never want to be a teacher.

****My favorite faker has to be the Fonz. No way he scored with all of those chicks. The guy would have been on a constant penicillin IV because of all the STDs he’d pick up. He was all BS in a leather jacket, albeit a cool leather jacket.

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Big Bundled Bales of Boxes!

11 Nov

from June 27, 2007

So I have to move. Odds are you do too. And that’s the issue for today- movers. We were told not to make the boxes “too heavy.” Too heavy? These guys are freakin’ movers! They lift stuff for a living. Then they put them down. That’s it! They don’t even carry them too far- they have dollies for that, big things with wheels. Wheels! How much easier could it get? Put the movers on wheels too? (OK, that might be dangerous. Forget it.) And let’s be honest- how many movers care about working too hard anyway? If I had any real hard stuff to move, I’d go down to 65th and 19th and pick up a couple of green-cardless Mexicans. (Not that I have anything against green-cardless Mexicans, or Mexicans in general, but look at any corner around there. That’s what it is. I call ’em as I see ’em.) Those guys work! And if you were being picked up in a van in the early morning hours by who-knows-who to do who-knows-what for who-knows-how long you’d work who-knows-how-hard too. (Actually I’d get a green card and get a real job. But I’m silly that way.)

Where was I? Movers. Grrrrr, those bastards make me sick. “Don’t make the boxes too heavy.” That really makes my jaw tight, as John Amos used to say on Good Times. (And what a great character he was, a real black role model. A father who stayed with his family through the tough times and did what was right. On TV, that really is an accomplishment. Just forget about how he was always threatening domestic abuse on his wife and kids and that guy really was someone to look up to.) Look you, (or “read you” as the case may be) I used to unload trucks for a living. My theory is, if I can lift the boxes, these so-called “professional moving professionals” can goddamn lift them too. And remember- lift with your knees, not your back.

And if you’ve been reading carefully this far, what the hell is wrong with you? Oops, I meant to type “If you’ve been reading this far, then you know what the most important part of moving is.” (I’ll fix this later.) No, it isn’t movers. It’s boxes. Yes, boxes. Stop arguing with me! It’s boxes! I said I unloaded trucks, I know what I’m talking about.

Walking around the building I saw teachers from other departments with dozens of boxes. Boxes of boxes! Big bundled bales of boxes! Big bursting bombastic bundled bales of basically bright brown broad boxes! (The power of alliteration, ladies and gentlemen! Thank you very much! I deserve it!) Well, how many boxes did I get? Two. But I was better off than some others in my department who didn’t get any. Plus I swiped two more so I got four. What do they expect me to do with four measly boxes (that I can’t make too heavy!) when I need three at least just to pack up the library I won’t need anymore. I used the four and now I still need at least six to get everything squared away. So either I get more boxes or I swipe them from math. And I have a table to move, a small table to move, a bookcase to move, some assorted chairs to move, and a big comfy high-backed leather chair (slightly worn) too move that Michelle will never get back. If these alleged “movers” (who I don’t think will be moving too hard anyway) lose a single sheet of paper there will be hell to pay. (Well, probably not, but I sure will be pissed!)

But my room is mostly ready to go. The walls are bare. The books are boxed, the stuff that needs to be moved is packed and the stuff that needs to be tossed was tossed. There’s only thing wrong with my room- the kids! There are still three days of classes left. If I can get those moving guys to do something with them then this could be pretty sweet.

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