The Big Head Problem

You probably don't have a big head. This is not to suggest that you aren't full of yourself to an unwarranted degree (because you probably are).


I mean big head in the physical size sense. You know: girth. Circumference.  Hat size.


I just mention it because it seems that most people have diminutive heads that actually do fit into the "One Size Fits All" hats. Clearly these caps are designed by and tested on tiny-headed workers.  My theory is that these are the same people who design commercial jet plane and stadium seats. 

People with big heads look goofy wearing an ordinary baseball cap. They are not designed to fit comfortably on Mensa-sized skulls like mine. So, I have to buy my size 7 3/4 hats at an online site called Big Head Hats. They cater to the "cranially endowed" market. The hats and caps are made in China and tested on offensive Football linemen. Then, shipped from Tennessee, USA.


I read somewhere that there is a correlation between head size and brain size - ergo higher intelligence. I personally do not claim this intellectual power, because I cannot understand why a fat guy with a small head can easily buy a 4X size Hawaiian shirt, but I with my big face, cannot find a pair of sunglasses that won’t slide off my nose into my chili.


Everything seems to be designed for you - the average sized humanoid. I can assume that you are average because – according to statistics - it is most likely that you are ensconced in the bulge of your cohort’s bell curve. Oh, you probably want to be a nonconformist (just like everyone else), but chances are, you are one of the one-size-fits-all masses.


At least that seems to be what the political machinery of this country thinks. That is why the major political parties do not even pretend to nominate the best and/or the brightest. They identify the characteristics and values that they think will appeal to the most voters and then shape their candidates to fit that profile. I think that if you check the hat size of most ideologues you will find that they are on the low end of average cranial girth.

You might get a chuckle out of the label's Washing Instructions: "Buy another Hat." 

Thanksgiving thoughts

Hope no one minds if I reprise one of my favorite works of holiday-themed flash fiction from a few years ago.

I suppose I need to repeat that it is a work of fiction. 

Over The River & Across the Tracks



It was chilly outside as we headed to Granny Gert's house for the annual Thanksgiving Feast. Uncle Gelbert was driving the old pink and white Nash Rambler wagon. Pap sat in the shotgun seat with the window open. Pap was pretty hung-over and every few miles he would yell for Gelbert to pull over so he could puke out the window. We - Maw, Throckmorton, and me sat in back, bundled-up. We were used to Pap's hangovers, and the lingering smell of his vomit on everything.

We were, of course, late. We were late for everything, except the time back in Montana when me and Throck were born. That was the one time we were early for anything. Still, Ma always said that we could've made it to the hospital except Pap was at the roadhouse when the first contractions came and she had to wait two hours for him to come home to take her to the docs.

When we arrived at Granny Gert's trailer, we piled-out of the car. Granny's dogs greeted us in the usual fashion - barking raucously, jumping on us, glad to have visitors.
"Git back you lot!" Granny shouted coming down the steps waving a cattle prod.
Me and Throck looked at each other wondering if she meant us or the dogs. The dogs thought it was them and they instantly fell into a heap near the trailer steps. Then she went over to where Pap and uncle Gelbert were standing.
"Georgie! Gelbert! You two boys!" They eyed her suspiciously.
"Give us a hug." She bellowed. They complied meekly.
"I see you haven't changed your naughty ways, Georgie." she said to Pap, nodding to the flecks of puke dripping from the side and rear panel of the Rambler. He shrugged.


We all went inside to warm-up.
Ma had brought a package of frozen peas and another of frozen squash. Pap produced a 5th of Gallo Creme Sherry from a brown bag and waved it over his head like it was the US open winners trophy. We all applauded approvingly, except Gramps who hadn't even noticed us arrive. He sat in a ratty old chair facing the small black and white TV screen watching a football game.

Granny, who was returning from the cupboard with a tray of half-filled jelly glasses, nodded towards Gramps with her head, "Somebody go and shake him. His hearing aid batteries went dead last month and he hasn't been much for conversation."
Pap went over and stood in front of the TV, blocking the view.
"Hi dad," he grinned toothlessly.
The old man looked at him, not recognizing him for a moment. Then a big smile. "Georgie, hey, sit down. Watch the game. Did you bring anything to drink?"

Dinner was predictable. Granny heated the turkey loaf in the microwave and poured a can of beef gravy over it. She had mixed up a batch of instant whipped potatoes, and had fried the green peas in a pan. Each little pea had a burn mark, which she instantly renamed 'black-eyed green peas". She proudly announced that she had bought new plastic utensils for the occasion and Chinette plates and cups.

Even though we were 20 years old, me and Throckmorton had to take our plates to a card
table in the living room while "the adults" - Granny, Gramps, Gelbert, Pap and Maw crowded around the breakfast nook. There was a hair in my gravy. But I wasn't hungry anyway.


Halfway through the meal Granny remembered the Squash, which was still thawing on the counter.
"Save your plates everybody, we can have this for desert. And don't nobody throw away them new plastic cutlery!"
After all the remnants of the meal had been cleared and piled in the sink, we sat watching the end of the football game, cleaning our teeth with individually wrapped mint-flavored toothpicks, like the ones you get at the Chinese restaurant. It had gotten dark, so Granny turned on a few more lamps.

We heard a truck pull up outside. Young Billy came through the door, red-faced from the cold, but beaming.
"Hi everybody, sorry I'm late. There was a wreck on the highway. Look what I got!"
He held up a bloody wallet that looked thick with a wad of bills, and a severed finger with a large diamond ring still on it.

Gramps stared at the swag and then asked hopefully, "Didn't you bring anything to drink?"
####

I lost my Glasses

Hmmn, I've looked everywhere but they're gone.  Not on the car, not in the closet, not in the pockets of my coat, not hidden under the jumble of newspaper.  Gone.

I know what you are thinking:  All old people "lose" their reading glasses at least once a day.
You think I have just misplaced them, and that they will turn up shortly, when I remember where I left them. 
But no, this time they are really lost. 

I had them yesterday morning when I went out.  I discovered them missing at Home Depot whern I was trying to read the small print on the package I was looking at.  I checked every pocket.  Gone.

The worst thing about it, they were the expensive bifocals that I never take with me if I leave the house.
 The only reason I took them with me is I have lost all of my traveling glasses too.
Where do they end-up, all those glasses??

Last Chance

Lets all go over to Newton and park tonight! Last chance!

Selections from The E-Mailbag

Dear Former Co-worker,

I just received your email, asking if I knew anyone who could help you in your annual (or is it semi-annual) job search.  How nice of you to think of me, even if I am just one of dozens of addresses on your email blast, I realize that personal notes are just too time-consuming for the anticipated payback.  Woefully inefficiant. 

If I was working myself, I might have contacts, but alas I too am unemployed.  I guess the big difference is that I chose to be unemployed, whereas you became unemployed because of someone else's choice.

Hard to figure why any organization would let you get way,  given the invaluable qualities that you demonstrate - that highly-developed sense of entitlement, relentess assertiveness, and that mono-maniacal energy that narcissists possess to accomplish their self-promoting goals.   These characteristics should be much valued by the hamster-brained sociopaths that populate the management ranks at most companies.

Well, it was great to hear from you again.  You can be sure that I will be spending literally minutes thinking of ways to help you, so you needn't follow-up with calls or more mass e-mails. I have always felt honored to be among the first hundred or so people that you contact each time you are looking for a new job. 

I do have a tip.  I just heard the UPS needs more package handlers at holiday time and they are staffing up to beat the band. I think you could do well there.  Don't bother to thank me.  Best of luck in your new job... and Happy Holidays.

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