tcm, i believe. i had the hots for june allyson when i was a lad.
i don't know if it was the fuck-me voice or the very nice bod. i rewatch that
about once a year, mostly to remind me of when many people were polite.
well, much more so than today. it is my belief that you can measure the
decline of a civilization by the rate of decline in civility. as a culture
dies, rudeness becomes a touchstone.
i can see, and often hear the decline. people holding doors, giving seats to
the elderly and waiting for people to exit before shoving one's way onto
public conveyance are all a pretty good guide to a state of health.
brother and sisters, hang onto that strap. it's going to be a REALLY bumpy
I'm still polite. Practically everyday I bite my lip and refrain from
calling down some mullet head without the brains of a goldfish.
You know the types. Like the first guy in line in the right lane who
realizes just when the light turns green that he really needs to be in the
left turning lane, which just so happens to be redlighted and stacked up all
the way back to where you are. So the dimwit brakes up, hits his blinker and
decides we're all going to wait along with him as our light goes
Or the putz's that ambushes you with a survey or sample tray; even though as
they approach, you've dropped your gaze, dropped your shoulders and have
picked up speed worthy of an open field running back about to break one
Or the guy... sorry, I'll try to be polite.
yeah, we know all of those and more, as you do.
i used to think it was rude to just ignore people accosting me for whatever
reason. panhandlers, etc. but one day i was assaulted by a brain dead
hubbardite who was determined to get either money or my time. he was so
obnoxious and determined to get something from me i had to accomodate him..
bad day to pick.
i was in a bad mood. after the third time of trying to get passed him in the
bus aisle, and hearing his want to see a movie etc spiel, i had had quite
i decided to give him the whole dianetics is actual john campell's rational
living philosophy that l mo-ron had simply stolen, forged new serial numbers
on and called his own on. very crowded bus, so i had to stand in his face and
use my even-a-power-amplifier-won't-stop-me voice. the bus quieted down and
people listened. the hubbardite tryed to shrink to a dot and got redder and
redder as i quoted heinlein's comments.
for some reason, he got off at the very next spot. the audience gave me a few
attaboys and laughs.
i will hold doors, give seats to those in need, and try to be polite. but....
mr wmb, i suspect you do just fine.
yeah, my esl retards with two of those stupid english terriers teid to the
back stairs. they like to bark. a lot. one neighbor got so fed up he calld the
cops. 9 times, so far. the dog owners are really quick on the uptake....
the dogs face my house, 12 feet away.
It's not like that everywhere. I'm in Poway, near San Diego. Our
neighborhood's got people speaking heavily accented English. They work
hard, make honest money, and live modestly.
When my neighbor turned 19, her brother came over, told us about the
party, and said if it got too noisy, to let them know. I told 'em to go
for it and have a great time. Didn't hear a thing.
Politeness is good, but respect gets you a lot farther. Not everyone is
going to have the same values or customs. But, that's the great thing
about the US. We get to choose.
Oh, I'm sure some of my neighbors work. Since it's a corner house, 2
bedrooms...and we now have a dozen work trucks parked, running up the
streets, down our street, around the corner, down that one...along
with the 4 junk cars in their driveway, and a back yard that now
consists of weeds and a 6 foot deep stack of ladders.
We are hoping the economy improves enough to be safe to move soon.
When they throw parties, if anyone asks them to quiet down a bit, they
stare and laugh.
When will they "respect" my desire to sleep at 3 am?
Ann and I got married in the backyard of the house we lived in at the time.
We went around to every house on the block and talked to or left notes if we
couldn't get to them directly. We let them know what was going to happen,
when, invited them all to the reception and asked them about parking and told
them if they had any issues to come see us immediately.
Most of them were very surprised. All of them wished us luck and were
It's always nice to be asked. A former neighbor used to have parties
occasionally and he would direct his guests to park in the field between his
house and ours. Our field, our property. Never once asked once if it was OK
to do so. His problems went deeper than that. The guy was an all around
prick in general. He let everyone around him know that his general feeling
was that he was building an oasis among folks that didn't care to invest 6
hours per day into their landscaping projects. Excuse the hell out of me for
working 12 hour days at the office popping Prilosec like hard candy. I mow
my lawn, trim my shrubs and dump the refuse where I'm supposed to - mission
He quickly became known around town as the Lawnmower Man. Didn't feel too
sorry for him when his 32 year old wife dumped his 52 year old ass for a guy
with a bigger house, fatter wallet and more recent date of birth.
The guy that moved in after him is old school polite and respectful - and
oddly enough, ten years younger than me. Always asking if it's OK to park
his work truck in the lot or if he can dump his tree clippings along the
curb in front of the lot, and just before a party last year, would it be OK
to let his guests park in the lot.
Yes, sir - asking makes all the difference in the world.
Heh, it wasn't you in the news there the other day was it? 72-yr old
ex-boxer gives young neighbour a good beating after latter attacks
oldtimer with kitchen knife on suspecting that the latter had called the
cops owing to the "all night party" going on the previous night.... was
in the Sun or something this week, pics and all. Very satisfying to see!
On Jul 2, 12:21 am, email@example.com wrote:
There was a writer (pamphleteer, actually) named Elbert Hubbard who's
attitude was "If a man isn't willing to give an honest day's work for
an honest day's pay, he should be given the taste of a thick-soled
He died on the Lusitania while going to England to try and broker a
peace deal during the Great War.
Thanks for reminding me. I read ~one~ of Hubbard's stories, called
"The Lieutenant". It was barely readable. His much-touted "Battlefield
Earth" was rediculous. Too bad he started believing his pulp.....
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