Is that a Comments addition I see?

ROCKIN!!  I see that we can now do comments and the url has changed to our login name.  So farckin cool!


Posted by BCKinetic @ 9:05 pm EDT | Permalink | 1 Comments

A little thing I call the Fork

My wife wrote this last night for a creative writing class she is taking.  It cracked me up so I thought I would share:

A Little Item I Call the Fork

    The truest test of whether or not a couple is ready for marriage is if they can survive registering for gifts.  A seemingly simple and exciting task you may think, however, the level of communication and compromise needed far exceeds most couples.  There are “big decisions,” like the sheets and the set of pots and pans.  There are “fun decisions,” like throw pillows and barbeque tools.  And then there are the items that are necessary but hardly stimulating.  One of these items is the set of silverware.  Something needed, that will be used everyday, but hardly something to get worked up over.  However, inevitably, one half of the couple wants the set to match the plates, feel well balanced, not be too fancy, while the second half just wants to leave the store before they loose their mind.  It is here, while standing over rows of gleaming silver, that one half finally says, “What does it matter? It’s a freaking fork, as long as it can get the food to my mouth, who cares?”  And so again, the fork is abused, discounted as the most mundane of objects.
    The fork has been dealt a sorry hand, especially when compared to its siblings the spoon and the knife.  Songs have been written about the “silver spoon” and the knife has been forever immortalized on the arms of many tough, tattooed types.  The knife comes in many shapes and sizes and can be collected and proudly shown.  The spoon offers several options as well, and specialty spoons, like “baby’s first,” can make there way into artfully arranged shadow boxes.  But the fork just sits dutifully in the silverware drawer, waiting for mealtime.  In some countries (and during some meals here) the fork is not even a necessity, having been replaced by the decorated chopstick.  The spoon would never be forgotten (how else would we enjoy our soup?) and the knife would never be given up (so many uses, we would never survive without it) but the fork, well, we know how that story goes.
    The fork seems to me to be the unsung hero of mealtime.  It is the keeper of sanitation and the preserver of clean hands.  Just think of the trials of spaghetti with marinara or a tossed garden salad if the fork had never shown its polished face.  I think we should celebrate the fork, with its stabbing talents and its scooping abilities.  It deserves to be inked on flesh and preserved in assemblages.  So the next time you see an engaged couple debating the “his and hers” bathrobes, remind them to give equal consideration to their forks.


Posted by BCKinetic @ 11:54 am EDT | Permalink | 0 Comments

The Mexican Fisherman-

The Mexican Fisherman


A boat docked in a tiny Mexican village. An American tourist complimented the Mexican fisherman on the quality of his fish and asked how long it took  him to catch them.

"Not very long," answered the Mexican.

"But then, why didn't you stay out longer and catch more?" asked the American.

The Mexican explained that his small catch was sufficient to meet his needs and those of his family.

The American asked, "But what do you do with the rest of your time?"

"I sleep late, fish a little, play with my children, and take a siesta with my wife. In the evenings, I go into the village to see my friends, play the guitar, and sing a few songs... I have a full life."

The American interrupted, "I have an MBA from Harvard, and I can help you! You should start by fishing longer every day. You can then sell the extra fish you catch. With the extra revenue, you can buy a bigger boat."

"And after that?" asked the Mexican.

"With the extra money the larger boat will bring, you can buy a second one and a third one and so on until you have an entire fleet of trawlers. Instead of selling your fish to a middle man, you can then negotiate directly with the processing plants and maybe even open your own plant.You can then leave this little village and move to Mexico City, Los Angeles,
or even New York City! From there you can direct your huge new enterprise."

"How long would that take?" asked the Mexican.

"Twenty, perhaps twenty-five years," replied the American.

"And after that?"

"Afterwards? Well my Friend, That's when it gets really interesting," answered the American, laughing. "When your business gets really big, you can start selling stocks and make millions!"

"Millions? Really? And after that?" said the Mexican.

"After that you'll be able to retire, live in a tiny village near the coast, sleep late, play with your children, catch a few fish, take a siesta with your wife and spend your evenings doing what you like and enjoying your friends."

And the moral is: Know where you're going in life... you may already be there.



Posted by BCKinetic @ 7:54 pm EDT | Permalink | 0 Comments