THE EASY WAY, OR THATAWAY

The idea of the ‘easy way’ is a problem.

To those who know how to do everything, it’s all easy.

For them, not you.

Anyone else who tries doing what they do would screw up.

For example:

I took a walk to show solidarity with my community.

To make sure they knew my intentions, I wore my old Army shirt.

And yes, I’m one of those guys who somehow managed to save a few remnants from their service days.

It was called a blouse in my day, this day too, but that’s not what I call it.

It’s a shirt.

The stuff you do with your pants over your boots for the Star Trek look?

That’s blousing.

I wore my shirt after my wife decided not to.

So there I was wearing my shirt with my name on it, unbloused pants, marching down Main Street.

I hung my shirt on my chair when I got home. For solidarity? I liked it there during these turbulent times.

It’s the same shirt I gave each of my daughters in-law to feel kick-ass on their community march.

Besides, their last name is already on them.

One day I noticed my shirt missing from the back of my desk chair.

Whaaaaaaaattt? The. Fuuuuuuuuu . . .?

 

Me: Honey, my shirt is missing from the back of my chair. Any ideas where it might have gone?

Wife: I hung it up. I love your chair. I love looking at it without the shirt.

Me: But it’s not my chair without the shirt.

Wife: Yes it is. But it’s also a work of art.

Me: It’s art until I park my big butt in it, then it’s my art and the shirt was part of it.

Wife: I like seeing the chair alone.

Me: Then I need a new chair to hang my shirt on. Or, you can bring it back and put it where it was if you don’t want any problems.

Wife: Like what?

Me: It would behoove you to follow orders. 

Wife: You want me to hop right to it with an chipper “Aye aye, Captain?”

Me: I’d like my shirt back where it belongs. Please? 

 

Take That Way

In the time it takes to do something on your own, without feeling like you’re being told what to do, my shirt was back on my chair.

Happy times are here again.

It reminded me of the Kurt Vonnegut quote:

My Uncle Alex, who is up in Heaven now, one of the things he found objectionable about human beings was that they so rarely noticed it when times were sweet.

We could be drinking lemonade in the shade of an apple tree in the summertime, and Uncle Alex would interrupt the conversation to say, “If this isn’t nice, what is?”

So I hope that you will do the same for the rest of your lives.

When things are going sweetly and peacefully, please pause a moment, and then say out loud, “If this isn’t nice, what is?”

― Kurt Vonnegut, If This Isn’t Nice, What Is?: Advice for the Young.

 

Wife: Where’s your shirt? I put it back on your chair.

Me: Thank you.

Wife: Where is it? You needed it here so bad.

Me: Honey, it’s my Army shirt. You did your duty with my Army shirt. Thank you.

Wife: I’m asking you where it is.

Me: I remember asking you the same question.

Wife: What is with you and that shirt?

Me: It’s on a secret mission at an undisclosed location because of you. Thank you for your service.

Wife: It’s back in your closet, isn’t it?

Me: I can neither confirm nor deny.

Wife: Hey Siri, play Comanche by Johnny Horton.

Me: Hey Wife, play give me a hug. I’m a brave horse.

Wife: Yes, you are, and you make me proud.

Me: Awwwwww, get over here.

 

More from Kurt:

 

Hello babies. Welcome to Earth. It’s hot in the summer and cold in the winter.

It’s round and wet and crowded. On the outside, babies, you’ve got a hundred years here.

There’s only one rule that I know of, babies-“God damn it, you’ve got to be kind.

 

One Hundreds Years Here

We’re all headed down the line.

No matter where it might be there’s a start and a finish.

I’ve had a good start and looking forward to a strong finish, but that’s just me following the user instructions for the country I live in.

It’s called the Constitution, a document I have no beef with because I’m an agreeable sort.

Who would have a beef? Who would want to change things?

 

 

From form and function to feelings?

From law and order to fear and loathing?

From Founding Fathers to sons of bitches?

The easy way is looking off when things go wrong.

“I had no idea,” won’t work when people you know get rounded up and carted away.

From the annals of history we know one thing: there is always a price to pay.

Whether you have a ticket, or don’t have a ticket, the conductor has a job to do.

If you don’t have a ticket to ride?

He’s still asking, still checking.

 

The easy way is buying a ticket and showing it.

But it needs to be the right ticket.

To sit in first class takes a first class ticket for the conductor.

If you don’t have one, you need a good story, a first class story.

The first rule of explaining why you don’t have the right ticket? Be honest. Be kind.

Be dishonest and belligerent and you may lose any ticket and get kicked off at the next stop.

 

PS: If you take pride in being dishonest and belligerent, because your #1 male role model is good at it, you may not get the same results.

PSS: For the sake of all that’s decent, when the conductor asks for your ticket, don’t fake an emotional meltdown performance complaining about how unfairly you’re being treated.

We’ve already seen it.