I was browsing through a trade magazine at work today when the biggest fattest rant I've ever read jumped out from the pages at me. Seems that one of us boomers made some generalizations about the work ethic of the youngun's and he was plenty pissed. His points were clear and consise regarding the futility of sacrificing family and personal life to the demands of a company that refuses to honor integrity as an important character attibute in an employee, regardless of age. I thought back over all of the times that I'd made babysitting arrangements or missed an important family occasion because of work, and I shuddered to myself over the loss of precious time with people who were there today and gone tomorrow. To dude, the ranter, I say "Keep the Faith."

The next rant was from an associate degreed professional who took offense to the remarks made by someone with a BS. Seems like I remember the phrase "dumbing down" being thrown out on the table. I work in a field where the whole bunch of bachelor degree holding workers could hold a flag burning and nobody would ever know there was a fire. There is no compensation for that extra two years where I work and that's been a point of contention for me over the years. I don't think I'm better than ANYBODY there. The folks in plant ops and housekeeping have quite often been nicer to me than the MDasssss who think the world twirls around 'em. I know they smile more.


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Today is Roommate #3's 27th birthday. He just happens to be the love of BabyGirl's life and someone that I have a soft spot for as well. The side of him that loves to play yard boy and explore will forever remain my best friend. He is an Eagle Scout earned the hard way, back during a time when there was no male support at home and volunteers mentored him through the wonders of nature. He wears 'lotso camo and shirts with birds on 'em. Sucker lurves animals as much as me which is quite a lot. In short, he's a good old boy. I remember one night years ago I was tappin' away to my WooHoo buddies on the IM and the phone rang. Turns out he was trapped under a big ass telephone pole down Pecan Lane and there was much drama and hand wringing before the rescue party got his butt out of that ditch. As I recall, it was just him and me down there, him struggling against the weight of the pole and me rubbing his red head and telling him he was gonna be okay. I've got to tell you, I had my doubts at that moment that there was going to be a happy ending to the whole deal. If he hadn't had a cellphone in his coveralls there wouldn't have been because I'm just too old and fluffy to be runnin' a mile down the road for help. At the time, I didn't even own one.

All's well that ends well though. Since that night, Gumbler has been a constant presence in some form or fashion. He fixes shit, which a single gal can mightily appreciate. Dude doesn't mind gettin' dirty and sweating doing yard work because he enjoys it like I do. Except for the sweating part ;) We do things spontaneously when he and BG are around. Stuff like making homemade ice-cream or ridin' around listening to AC/DC. We all like a shot of ice cold Crown when the occasion warrants it. And we always.....always, have each others' backs.

Happy Birthday Gomer. Keep the faith. ^j^