What, again? Another Friday?
And once again, I am made happy by the weekend that my iPod has predicted for me.
This morning’s commuting songs – which I have determined (through sheer insistence) are indicative as to how my weekend will go – are as follows:
Fortunate Son by Creedence Clearwater Revival
On Board by Friendly Fires
Keep the Car Running by Arcade Fire
AFK by Pinback
Supermassive Black Hole by Muse
Hollywood Swinging by Kool and the Gang
Five on the Five by the Ranconteurs
And for those who don’t know, I highly recommend Supermassive Black Hole (fairly new, but heavy in a groovy sort of way) and Hollywood Swinging (before Kool and the Gang went all “Celebrate” on us).
So! Where were we?
Oh, yes. A short story. We have time, yes?
Two jobs back I worked in a very small town, commuting from “The Cities” (Greater Minnesotan for "Minneapolis/St. Paul"). The receptionist reported to me, which meant, basically, nothing at all.
She wasn’t much more than a girl, and she had a pleasant phone voice, but she was a bit on the dense side. I once listened to her describe to a friend her fascination with creatures such as the Loch Ness Monster and the Abdominal Snowman.
So at this place it was customary, when a visitor came in, to post a welcome sign in the foyer.
“Acme Fencing and Foundation Garments Welcomes So-And-So”.
You get the idea.
And so it was that one day, while expecting a visitor, I noticed that she had put up only enough little white letters to spell out “Acme Fencing and Foundation Garments Welcomes You”.
“You don’t have his name yet?”
“No, I have it; but I can’t put it up.”
“Because it’s obscene.”
“Darlene, Mr. Fuchs' name is not obscene. It’s his name. Put it up.”
Bless her heart the little bumpkin went over my head to my boss, who convinced her that yes, you could pronounce it that way but the real pronunciation was “fooks” and to go ahead and post his welcome.
I don't miss that job.
3 hours ago