The Hierarchy of Suck and a Two Headed Duck (that rhymes and you know it does)…

“You’re one of the good ones…[insert name]”

       Ren, the comically cantankerous cartoon Chihuahua

Very broadly, there are three types of people – 1. People who suck, 2. People who don’t suck, and 3. The good ones.

The first two are pretty self explanatory – people who don’t rack the 270lbs they just squatted from the Smith machine (seriously you guys, that’s three 45lb plates on each side) are the suckiest of what I will call the “undistinguished suckfaces” – those who suck, but not at a professional, Kathy Griffin level. So that I don’t digress on the sub-hierarchy of suck, I’ll just say that the “undistinguished suckfaces” are but a drop in the bucket of suck (or “sucket” if you will). The middle genus in my criminally simplistic taxonomy of human temperament are those who don’t suck.

The beauty of this type of class of person is that you don’t have to do much to get in, just NOT suck. I’ll put it to you like this, dear readers-

Roughly 3.14 kajillion times a day, we are faced with some choice. It could be as simple as choosing breakfast – Cheerios or leftover Chinese? Or as complex as pressing a button to test a missile, thereby risking the lives of millions of people (if you’re Kim Jong-Un).

In simplest terms, each example contains two or more broad paths. Each path is quite broad with a dizzying circuitry of tributaries and “roads less traveled”. Each path, no matter how broad or narrow, trodden or smooth will do one of two things – 1. Suck , or 2.Not suck. When you reach the threshold of these paths, ask yourself one simple question, will the result of my decision to take this path cause suck for me or anyone else? If the answer is no, go forth onto that path that you won’t suck.

If the answer is yes, ask yourself a follow-up question– will the suck of my decision outweigh the potential positives? If the answer is no, go forth onto that path that you won’t suck.

If the answer is yes, ask yourself a follow-up question– will this decision place the brunt of the suck on someone else? If the answer is no, go forth onto that path that you won’t suck. If the answer is yes, ask yourself a follow-up question– must I take this path to achieve my ends? If the answer is no, go forth onto that path that you won’t suck. If the answer is yes, ask yourself a follow-up ques….

Actually, at that point, it’s best just to forget about your ends and NOT make that decision.

This leads me to the upper echelon of the quality ‘o people structure.

I’ve adopted the term “one of the good ones” to describe these people.  Such people go beyond the requirements of NOT sucking and make things less sucky for others. In short, they suck the sucking out of things that suck. They redeem the ever growing population of the “sucket”.

I’d like to tell you, Internet, about one of the good ones as I rank her. Her name is Kay, this is her likeness as of Christmas 2016 (I think).

20160104_181217

I met Kay when she commissioned me to convert some home video tapes (Hi8, I believe) to DVD.

Turns out, Kay and her husband, Dan, are pretty neat, what with their family of ducks, old jukeboxes and antique Japanese gambling machines. To honor her uniqueness, I’m officially declaring her “one of the good ones”, and, like I did with Dr. Shearer HERE, I’m going to conjure an origin story. That is, the story you are about to read is entirely fictitious and any similarity to actual people, places or mystical ducks is purely coincidental (and frickin awesome!). Here we go –

Like horns upon a goat they lay.

High atop Mount Fløyfjellet

Storhorn and Lillehorn sit,

Keeping watch over the islands of Norway.

 

The village elders often say

That between the spires is a connection

To another dimension,

Where mystical creatures live and play.

 

It happened upon a day

There arose a great upset

When village was met

By a bundle so fey.

 

In the mild month of May,

The people of Austvågøya did find

A basket seemingly left behind

Floating in the bay.

 

To their dismay,

A baby they found within;

How could it have been

That a baby should come this way?

 

The village elders did carefully assay

The coming of this child

As if from the wild;

But none could say…

 

… whence her home might lay,

Until Sigurd stood forth,

Pointed to the north

And opened his mouth to say…

 

… “I know from whither this child did stray,

By some folly she was let…

…Out the doorway atop Fløyfjellet

From thither did she come this way.”

 

This he did convey

To the villagers there assembled.

Oh how they stirred and trembled

At the thought of a mystical doorway.

 

With intent to allay,

Sigurd boldly spake,

“On the morrow I shall take…

…this child back that way.”

 

The people thought him fey,

But in his words they found relief

In the face of the belief

A ransom for the child they’d have to pay.

 

And so the next day,

Sigurd set forth

On a journey to the north

That he might defray…

 

… any cost for this child gone astray

And so he climbed high, then higher

To reach the twin spire;

The frame of the dimensional doorway

 

Facing the columns he did say,

An enchantment to lay bare,

Any charm hidden there

And thus show him the way.

 

At that moment darkness overtook day

A glowing portal did appear.

So Sigurd buried his fear

Set on returning the little girl, come what may.

 

So, valiantly he passed through the array;

Like in vacuum his ears did pop,

He spun and wrenched and twisted non-stop.

It felt like the kneading of clay.

 

He peered hither and thither to assay

A scene before him so queer,

Sound but a hollow din, sight but a chromatic smear.

He held aloft the child gone astray…

 

… then opened his mouth to say,

“Behold, I bare a child of your domain,

And I would parley to ease any disdain,

And enmity towards my village by the bay”

 

At that, Sigurd’s eyes met with a curious display;

The sounds of his voice were as ripples on a pond,

Wrinkling and warping the air beyond.

In reply, a surly voice squawked “who are they?”

wp-1499003794572.

 

The words seemed an aural melee

Attacking sight and sound with such force,

Sigurd gleaned the sound’s source

He spied an abomination heading his way.

 

Of all the oddities Sigurd saw that day,

None were so queer as this.

A creature common enough, but grotesquely amiss.

Hark the full tale, ere you gainsay –

 

The creature on its way

Was a duck I tell you,

Not with one head, but with two!

The two heads conversed in a manner so fey…

 

… gouging and pecking away

At the neighboring head

While squawking so loudly as to raise the dead;

Sigurd knew not which head held sway

 

Ere the squawking and pecking would belay

Sigurd spoke this query,

“I’ve wandered far, and am weary.

What of this child, a ward gone astray?”

 

The left head squawked, “SWORD GONE AWAY!?!”

The right head pecked and squawked with derision,

“ NO, YOU DOLT. THAT IS NOT THE QUESTION!”

It squawked what was surely a mainstay…

 

… of the conversation most every day

For it was, the loud squawking and jeering

Resulted in loss of hearing;

Making any message difficult to convey.

 

Sigurd feared there would be no end to the fray,

That his quest had been for nought;

That this child, the realm had already forgot.

He resolved to leave without delay.

 

Sigurd sighed, overcome by dismay.

As before, sounds he made

Were given shape, and in physical form, did pervade

And ripple the air like water in a bay.

 

Upon reaching the creature, the head of gray

Began a raucous declaration,

Squawking “We feel a queer sensation!”

In a manner so fey.

 

The creature’s voice like a woman so gay,

With the occasional raucous “quack”;

Considering the creature, Sigurd turned back…

as he thought Why’d I come this way?

 

Then something happened, he decided to stay,

Just as if he had voiced that question

“I have a suggestion”

Quacked the head of grey.

 

Sigurd’s mind fell into disarray.

It came to Sigurd

That this beastly bird

He should here and now slay.

 

Through some diabolical relay,

They heard the thoughts in Sigurd’s head;

That he would see them dead

Ere they’d had their say.

 

For then they did display,

A visage of death

With fiery breath

And razor sharp talons to flay.

 

Deliver me from this beast I pray

Thought he in desperation

“Leave the child for obliteration?”

Said the beast to Sigurd’s inner mislay

 

“Creature, how is it that you can say

Answers to questions in my head

And to thoughts I haven’t said?

Tell me true, and do not play.”

 

Grey head spoke without delay,

“You know nought of your location,

We know much of your vocation”

Spoke the duck with the head so grey.

 

At this, Sigurd did display…

…a countenance of dither

That he should come hither

And be subject to such play.

 

After some delay,

Sigurd, with his mind clear,

Queried, “what know you of my vocation here?

I ask of you, if I may.”

 

This answer, to Sigurd, they did purvey –

“You seek the repatriation,

Of the youth in your possession.”

They know of the child found by the bay…

Bzzzzzzy

BeeJert Typewriter Classroom Full

Listen, I’m usually juggling two jobs, two or more reading projects, this blog, writing a book, cleaning, dadding, and I be strippin in the evenins. In a word, I’m uber busy (that was two words, but you get the idea.)

I sat in contemplation about my dizzying to do list. Right then and there, despite the objections of all 157 kajillion molecules in my body hell bent on figuring out some way to return the mayo to the fridge and throw away a cheese wrapper simultaneously, thereby saving 4.3 seconds – time which can be applied to some more purposeful activity later, inspiration bade that I conjure a verse to chronicle my raging reality.

 

What follows is the offspring of that bit of whimsy and my brain’s inclination to swaddle such whimsy in cozy, tender words –

 

On Monday, where are you going to be?

I’m subbing for Mrs. Brown,

I never turn an English job down.

Never slow down. Gotta stay busy.

 

Hey, it’s Friday. Let’s go to a movie.

Can’t. I’m working all nite,

Teaching online until the morning lite.

Sleeping is overrated. Gotta stay busy.

 

All work and no play for Jarrett Lee?

Being productive is my joy,

That make me a dull boy?

Well “HERE’S JOHNNY!” Gotta stay busy.

 

Daughter: “Dad, spend some time with me.”

Gladly, my dear, let me finish this text

Then we’ll play on the X…

…box. Make time for Quinn, but gotta stay busy.

 

What? I’ve a moment free,

That can’t be true!

Oh look, there’s some mail that I need to view.

I only thought I wouldn’t stay busy

 

I haven’t blogged lately,

Yes that is true,

I use any spare time to…

… write a book, cuz I gotta stay busy

 

OOH! A book! May I see?

There’s not much to show,

I regret that the word count is so low,

Because I gotta stay busy…

 

… and boost productivity,

By engaging in tasks that might improve my station,

Leading to a situation

Where I gotta stay busy…

 

…but do so gainfully.

Oh, I wish I may, I wish I might,

Someday get paid to write,

And break this mold of busy tizzy

 

FIN

@JarrettLWilson

“Emotions” pt. 2(ish)

This is the next part in my controversial “emotions” series. I can’t call it part two because I’m going to discuss two emotions. Why not call it parts two and three you ask?

I can’t call it that because that name is boring. A better name that I’ve in this moment conceived is “part threwo”, which is a combination of the words two and three. Combining numbers two and three, gives us five; I’ll go with that – “Emotions, pt. 5”

You see, in this installment – in what can only be explained as blue flaming overachievement – I’m going to talk about TWO emotions that I have felt recently.

The first emotion can be summed up with the following picture –

Jarrett = A sad panda
Jarrett = A sad panda

Don’t be fooled by the smiley face. About a month ago, ice raineth from the sky such that my car door got frozen shut.

Being as tough as I am, I tugged and tugged until the door came off. I managed to get the door back on, but the handle stuck out. That part about ripping the door off and putting it back on is a lie.

Furthermore, I can only assume that this is unrelated to the door handle and speculate that it has to do with Satan, Cher or some other foul beast – my car keeps dying. Here is a little poem to describe the situation –

Oh car, I exited the highway, then you died

I pulled into a parking space at home, them you quit

Then, you stalled out in the Petco parking lot, dammit

Up to now you’ve been such a dependable ride.

You got me to McKinney,

Then you decided not to run.

Being stuck in the middle of the road isn’t fun.

I had to have a wrecker drive 30 miles to get me.

The cost to fix you has been high.

More than that, it’s been a big pain in the ass!

Oh car, why does your fuel pump stop pumping gas?

Please please please get better before I cry!

The mechanic can’t determine where the problem lies;

The Buick service dept. seems bumfuzzled too,

Here’s what I’ve decided to do –

Rent a car from Enterprise.

This should give the mechanic time to fix you,

And while he does, I don’t have to be without transportation

Calling for rides is a real agitation

With any luck, you’ll be back on the road in a few.

This broken car business has been quite an ordeal – I don’t wish to comment on it any further.

Instead, I’ll turn to happy business. I know I’ve already covered that “emotion”, so I’ll take it one step further and describe it more fullyer.

A few months ago, I told you about a PRESENTATION I gave to the seventh reading classes at the school where I work. The reading teachers had the kids make flyers as if I was coming to speak.

That's right! An entire wall at the school is all about me!
That’s right! An entire wall at the school is all about me!

Close up of my wall #2

Creative kids, no?
Creative kids, no?

To be the object of an entire grades’ learning is quite a privilege; I felt very important. I don’t know if there’s a name for this “emotion” (or if it can even be called that). Whatever the case, I propose to call this “emotion” improrteged, or perhaps primporileged. Either way, I was greatly honored to be a vehicle to help transport young minds to learning.

That wraps it up for the 23rd (threword)/5th/2nd  installment of my revolutionary “emotions” series.

Toodles!

FIN

@JarrettLWilson

Medical Vernacular Spectacular!

Part of having a condition like mine is learning a lot of big words. I like big words and I like to write silly poems – seems reasonable to assume that I would double like a poem about big words. I haven’t written the poem yet, but I’m sure I’ll like like it. To that end, I’ll quit introducing and start writing the poem you’re about to read. One last note – I’m going to stick to a simple AABBCC rhyme scheme – Shakespeare I amn’t. I’m going to italicize the terms to set them apart.

The medical field uses words that are big and complex,

For instance, raising you for at the able is called dorsiflex(ion) :).

The above word is one of the many that end with I-O-N,

Proprioception is a word that I use often;

It’s a big word for knowing where your limbs are in space.

Circumduction is another I-O-N, it affects walking pace.

When the knee doesn’t want to bend, the leg swings;

If I’m not careful, I’ll start to kick things.

Yet another I-O-N is ambulation;

Or you could say “walking”, if you value concision

Walking is made more difficult by the symptoms of spasticity.

Incontinence is when you have trouble going pee-pee,

“Pee-pee” is a silly word for releasing fluid that is pent.

The fancy term for pooping is “bowel movement”.

There is also a tube for moving pee-pee and other fluids hither and thither,

The fancy word for this tube is catheter.

There’s an intrathecal catheter delivering medicine to my spine ,

The catheter carries medicine from a baclofen pump to help me feel fine.

At first, the needle caused my spine to leak,

But thanks to a blood patch twas fixed in about a week.

To get the blood for the blood patch, the nurses set a Mid line,

The needle went so deep into my arm, I felt like dying.

Medtronic is the company that makes my pump.

Ataxia, or loss of balance, makes it difficult to jump.

Seeing two of something is called double vision or diplopia.

Seeing two of something is called double vision or diplopia.

Dysphagia is one of the fanciest medical terms I know,

It’s easier just to say “it’s hard to swallow”.

Let’s not forget the word for constant muscle contraction,

Hypertonicity is the word given to this action

I owe this list of words to the Pons region of the brainstem,

Without having a major hemorrhage there. I wouldn’t have learned them

This concludes the list

Did you get the gist?

I know I left some off, but I’m happy with this list, short as it may be. I think I explained the meaning of the words pretty well, but here’s a list with definitions just in case –

Dorsiflexion: This is when a door opens – I jest. Quite simply, it’s bending your ankle so that your foot/toes goes up

Proprioception: Obviously this describes a professional at “priocepting”, and as we all know (right?), prioception is the ability to perceive of a Toyota Prius. Actually, it’s your perception of the relative position of some body part.

Circumduction: The Romans came up with this one. Circ is Latin for “Pringles” (they’ve been around for a while). Um is Latin (and every other language ever for “WTF?”). Duction translates to “talking with one’s mouth full”. In essence, when in Rome, it’s not cool to talk with a mouth full of Pringles. Truthfully, it’s when the leg swings outward because the knee won’t bend enough to clear the ground.

Ambulation: Walking

Spasticity: Tremors caused by constant muscle activity

Incontinence: When you’re not on a continent. Examples – swimming in the ocean, flying on a plane or exploring outer space. A less awesome and more truer answer is when you can’t pee

Bowel movement: Pooping (heh, poop)

Catheter: This one was adequately covered above – it’s just a tube

Baclofen pump: A hockey puck shaped machine that delivers sweet, sweet baclofen (muscle relaxer) to the spine

Blood patch: The use of blood to patch a leak in the spine. I asked them if they could just use tape. They laughed derisively and said we could, but then we won’t get to set a…

…Mid line; thereby IMPALING my right bicep to harvest blood from a deep vein

Medtronic: A science fictiony name for a company that makes baclofen pumps

Ataxia: The IRS’s answer to whether or not there’s a tax for some object. E.g. “Is there a tax for asking stupid questions?” IRS reply: “A tax, yeah.” That, or loss of balance.

Diplopia: This one means double vision, I don’t get it. When I think of the word “plop” I think of poop splashing into the toilet.

Dysphagia: Saying disparaging remarks to some named “Phagia” – she(?) will punch you in the throat and make it difficult to swallow.

Hypertonicity: Similar to “spasticity” – constant muscle contractions.

Pons: Latin for bridge due to its position between the cerebellum and the cerebrum on the brainstem (that sounded pretty scientifical, eh?)

Hemorrhage: Internal bleeding, which, when paired with the term above, can create everything above that. Basically, it’s at the bottom of everything (symbolic, no?)

FIN

@JarrettLWilson

SiLiMes #4 – Annabel Lee Hold

It was many and many a year ago,

In a library not too far,

That a student there visited whom you may know

By the name of  *;

And a book beckoned to her –

“Come get me, no matter where you are”

I am an adult and she is a child,

In this library not too far;

And, as the library aide it is my job to inform her-

How long this hold will be;

With an e-mail to her reading teacher, saying –

WEDNESDAY 11/9, this school day plus three

Annabel Lee-ily,

Jarrett

SiLiMes #3

I send messages to reading teachers to inform them that one of their students has a book on hold. I started writing these clever poems & vignettes. * = a student’s name.

I was sitting on my chair,
On my desk there were no holds there.
I turned to a patron, “turn that book in if you dare!”
She didn’t have one book, but a pair.
When I checked them in I received a scare!
It turns out that, to wait in line and be fair,
Both * & * had laid bare
Their intentions to tear
Through these books when they came to their
Possession. They have until TUESDAY 3/6 if they care.

Librar(ily),
Jarrett

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