"If your compassion does not include yourself, it is incomplete."--Buddha
I think I will call today: Pat Yourself On The Back Day. Cut yourself some slack, take a deep breath and show yourself a little compassion. Sure, spread that compassion around to others, but save a bit for yourself. I like that quote. Let me know what you think of it.
When In Doubt, Go To Vegas!
That quote is all mine, and my meaning is along the same lines with the words of wisdom from our good friend Buddha. Treat yourself to a getaway from what ails you. And if nothing ails you...then you are not human. We all need a break from the routine of life, and what better place to escape from the real world than Vegas? My lovely wife and I are by no means major gamblers, but we enjoy a trip at least once a year to Sin City. While we're there we think of little but having a good time, dining well, shopping (books for me; lots of stuff for her!), and getting lost inside the never-ending world of the casinos. Try it, you may like it. If not, go to Maui. I know you'll love that.
Why Am I Screaming At A Robotic Voice!
I don't know about you, but I have zero patience when it comes to those automated voices that try to talk to you like they are real people. You know the one's I'm talking about: you're calling customer service for something that nine times out of ten already has you a bit tweaked off. Now, while waiting patiently through a queue of recordings and lists and misdirection and bad music, you expect to be greeted by someone human, a person, a living being that can engage in conversation, no matter how primitive. But instead, all too often, we get this fake, robotic voice, programed to ask questions, pretend to understand your answer, than try to converse with you. AND THE WHOLE TIME WE ALL KNOW THAT THIS IS NOT A PERSON! Why do they do this to us? Do they really think that we don't know that this is not a real person? Is it just me, or do you feel silly talking to this automated voice? I hope it's not just me. Invariably, I find myself poking an angry finger at the Zero on the phone pad, begging, crying, pleading for a human voice to rescue me from this robotic one that is misunderstanding everything I am telling it. Please, customer service centers, get rid of this evil device and you will save the few remaining brown hairs on my head, as well as a handful of fast eroding brain cells.
Why Can't The Red Sox Win On The Road?
I haven't blogged about my favorite sports team in a long time. Sadly, I must report that the Sawks, as they call them back in New England, while owning the best home record in baseball, are dismal on the road, away from friendly Fenway Park. There are lots of theories, including travel, comfort, fatigue, fan support. All those contribute, I'm sure, but in baseball it often comes down to pitching. And on the road, the visiting team seems to blow out their bullpens more often than the home ball club. Or maybe their road uniforms fit funny. No matter the reason, they are not a lot of fun to watch while in their visiting grays.
That's all for now. I hope everyone has a stellar day.
Until next time...