CSotD: True Confessions and other wacky stuff
Skip to comments
I like Zits (KFS) more when they focus on Jeremy and his friends rather than Jeremy and his parents. Jeremy is a slacker, but he seems to represent all kids in the parental strips while he’s more of a Maynard G. Krebs comic figure alongside his more together pals.
This week features a teens-and-jobs story arc, and D’ijon is a good focal character for the initial strip because she’s the most focused and together member of the gang.
Even back when unemployment was over 7%, my boys had no trouble picking up jobs, and, as noted here, it’s even easier with the rate below 4%.
One advantage my guys had was that malls were still a thing back then, and the food court was the town square: Once you had any job at the mall, you were clued in to where better jobs were available.
That’s changed, but some jobs still suck and some jobs are still great.
The boys each had several of the former and only a few of the latter, but that’s good preparation for life. In the working world, it’s less about what you have to do than who you have to do it for, which brings us to our first
Juxtaposition of the Day
I see this sort of question in cartoons often, but nobody ever asked it of me. I think that was because it came up in normal conversation with the people who were fun to work for, while the others didn’t give a damn what my goals were because they were entirely focused on their own.
My goals tended to change in the course of the job, so I couldn’t have given much of an answer at the start anyway.
The times I agreed with Rat’s goals generally developed with new ownership and new management, each of which involved a takeover by vulture capitalists and the replacement of someone who cared what you wanted with someone who was just following orders.
At one of those, I did have an exit interview with the new publisher and the guy who was now my immediate supervisor, in which I explained in detail how my job worked, but I might as well have been talking to the Bobs.
Six weeks later, the fellow who took my place called because they had no idea how the job worked and had thrown out several thousand dollars worth of the materials required for doing it.
After my next job, they didn’t even ask why I was leaving, so I sent a letter to the new publisher explaining the problems there and suggesting simple solutions, which, again, I might as well have sent to the Bobs.
Six weeks later, they handed my boss a cardboard box and he was as happy to be leaving as I had been.
Newspapers are one of the few industries where it’s not rude to ask someone you haven’t seen in awhile, “So, are you still working?”
In fact, it often prompts a good story or two, mostly steeped in gallows humor.
Which somehow brings us to
Juxtaposition of the Day #2
I’m very much out of the loop on Confession, having not been in more than 40 years, and then having just sat face-to-face with the priest and talked about things, more like going to a shrink than to a shriver.
The sacrament was once reserved for the rare times you’d done something horrible for which you were truly sorry, which is not a combination that comes up very often.
People performed Confession on their deathbeds, and knights would also be confessed before heading for the Crusades, in case of death or perhaps to persuade God to spare their now-spotless souls.
Yes, it was very much like an exit interview.
At some point, it became far more common and regular, to the point where nuns would go to Confession once a week, and since they had very little to confess, priests compared hearing Confession at a convent to being stoned to death with popcorn.
I’d say “Better safe than sorry” but obviously their goal was both.
It’s a good week over at Brewster Rockit (Tribune), with a story arc in which two aliens struggle to understand humans.
And I struggle to understand Door Dash and Grub Hub, but I think that’s a city/country thing.
It makes sense to have sushi delivered: It’s not supposed to be lukewarm. But I know I can go get a pizza or Chinese food faster than if I’m fourth in line for some driver. It will arrive hot and I won’t have to tip myself.
However, if I lived in downtown New York City, going myself would be much slower, since I’d be reluctant to own a car.
Expense and environmental issues aside, I watch “Law and Order” reruns and I know how often people get whacked in parking garages.
Another city/country thing: Arlo & Janis (AMS) are in the middle of a power failure, which happened to me far more often when I lived in the sticks than since I moved into town. Longer stretches provide more opportunities for cars or trees to knock down powerlines and farther for repair crews to travel.
It’s also a lot farther to walk next door, the compensation being that after it happens a time or two, you learn to keep a phone charger in your car.
And besides, you don’t have to worry about getting whacked if you go out to your garage.
Poncho is right in this Pooch Cafe (AMS), and dog owners know the limitations of signage.
Civilized towns just say, “Please scoop — It’s the law!” but there are places that hope to get better results by insulting you and your little dog, too.
As Poncho suggests, it’s futile. The people who are going to comply would do so anyway, and the ones who won’t comply won’t comply.
But it would be nice if parking garages had “No Whacking” signs.
By the way, if I were Lt. Van Buren, I’d fire all the cops and hire a couple of CPAs. In her precinct, if you find out who has the most money, you’ve found out who committed the murder.
Comments 4
Comments are closed.