Another ordinary workday, the usual tribe had shown up and started their typical routine. Somebody was in charge of making another pot of bad coffee. And whoever was late for work that morning brought donuts for the rest. This was a good thing too, because the vending machines hadn’t been working lately — great for taking money while offering nothing in return.
Sure enough, a couple more hungry victims had tried to get something from the vending machines on this morning, ending up no less hungry and a wee bit lighter in the wallet. They simply failed to read the sign prominently displayed on the front of the vending machine: “Out of Order”.
Signs.
We ignore them all the time. I imagine it is because there are so many signs vying for our attention. Anyone out there ever ask a clerk to tell you who to make your check payable to, only to receive that little pointy finger, aiming at the sign right under your nose? Or, have you ever walked past one of those “Form Line Here” or “Take a Number” signs? This little gaffe is followed by stares from everybody in the line until you figure it out and take your place at the end of the line? Now, isn’t that irritating?
The vending machine repair guy had finally shown up to fix the machines. Every now and again, someone would enter the break room, notice the repair guy and start up some small talk. Most everybody would express appreciation that he had arrived. Some questioned him a bit since he wasn’t really wearing a uniform. He did have a reasonably equipped toolbox, and was certainly comfortable and familiar with his work. After visiting with him for a couple minutes, break room visitors would move on, glad the machines were finally getting fixed.
After a few of those “Who are / What are?” questions, sure enough, the vending guy made a sign to settle the matter once-and-for-all. Displaying his arts and crafts skill set, he cut an almost-square (not a square, but reminds you of one) from some cardboard. He then boldly wrote “I’m Fixing, Not Robing” (Robing – not a word, but reminds you of one).
After a few hours had passed, the vending machine guy had wrapped up his work. He did leave a bit of a mess in the break room though. He also forgot his sign.
As folks began to enter the break room for lunch, they started joking about the repair guy and his sign. And they weren’t too nice about it either, indicating that he might not get a “Pulitzer” this year. A couple people tried the vending machines and were a little frustrated to find that they were still not working.
As a few others started to chime in with their disappointment, somebody noticed little piles of filings below the vending machine. Another noticed the front doors of the vending machines were not locked. Hmmm . . . He couldn’t have. He wouldn’t have. Would he?
He did.
The guy was so calm about his crime. He would pause his thievery and visit with whoever came by. It took days to accept that anyone would have that much nerve. Everyone became fairly contemplative. The question no one was asking out loud was “Who’s the idiot now?”
This entire ordeal exposes our desire to assume the best and/or discard the worst possibilities in people and in scenario’s. And we ignore signs to the contrary all along the way. I believe we do this because it’s easier than worrying about intentions and motives all the time. It’s simply what we have time for.
At our house, there are plenty of signs my wife and I ignore all the time. For example, there are signs that our preschool-age children are getting into trouble. Silence is a dead ringer. A loud crashing noise is obvious enough — such extremes at this age, thankfully. But the signs will become fewer and farther between when they get older, as they become craftier (not to be confused with smarter). I’m not looking forward to it, but I do have a plan.
I already have closed circuit TV in my house, including microphones. I’m rolling out night vision cameras in the next few months because Peyton keeps getting out of his bed and playing with his toys.
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| My automotive security and monitoring certainly needs some improvement. My plan here is to have my children drive the first ultra-compact cars to be loaded with GPS tracking devices. The roof liner will be equipped with a top of the line Affection Detection system. Temperature and steam monitoring systems will be in place. All of these systems will be monitored from the comfort of a satellite based, command and control center in my home.
I will control the music that is played in the car. A fine selection of music to include chamber orchestral works will be presented. Once in a while, as part of my supa DJ mix, I’ll lower the temperature in the car and play the mass-drowning scene track from the film, Titantic.
If I get any alarms on the system, and multiple systems confirm they are actually in the car, I will then pick up the red phone (direct intercom) and begin reading selected excerpts from the book of Proverbs.
I’ll just be heeding the signs (i.e. alarms). My philosophy is as the great Norwegian philosopher once said of parenting, “See no evil? Hear no evil? Consult your physician.”
I remember hearing about the definitive brain research of the 1990’s revealing that the brains of teenagers are not properly or fully formed in an area right behind their foreheads. I would add (not so much based on research) that this area of a teenager’s brain is cavernous, even percussive when tapped. The researchers did point out, however, that this area controls two primary processes — reasoning and judgment. OUCH. Now doesn’t that explain a few things!
TODAY’S HEADLINE: Teenager Foreheads to Replace Percussion Instruments – Music Programs Spared As Budgets Adjusted
I cringe when I recall my own reasoning and judgment as a teenager. It was pretty bad. And I can already hear my own children when they are teenagers, “I’m sixteen now and I can handle my own decisions.” Hmmmmm.
That’s when I’ll point to the “Teen Brain Assessment” sign on our fridge. The sign has an attached drumstick, and posts one simple instruction and a chart. The sign instructs that we use the drumstick to execute two taps on the teen’s forehead and then refer to the chart, as shown below this edition of BBC (scroll down now to view the chart and return to this point and continue reading):
In the aftermath of the Teen Brain Assessment at my house, I fully anticipate “Keep Out” and “Private” signs to be posted on the outside of my teen’s bedroom doors as retaliation. I’ll put an identical set of the same signs on the inside of their bedroom doors . . . to keep the warm gestures of family signage flowing, of course.
I will then take a nap until the social services lady arrives, at which point I will offer to double her salary to come work for my wife and I as a full-time, live-in Nanny. As she turns and starts running away from our home, I will step outside and wave up to my teens glued to their bedroom windows. The little faces of righteous indignation will melt into shock and snorting — the huffy sunset to another day as a family, and surely a SIGN that tomorrow will bring more of the same. And my wife and I will sleep soundly through the night, dreaming of wise children with sass-less faces, and the wonderful sound of thumped watermelons, filling our home.
That’s my report from the “Big City”.
Brian in the Big City Employee #0090698
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