Archive for November, 2010
Posted on November 24, 2010 - by Gary Applegary
Big Mack Attack!
So there you are… Driving down Interstate 85. The miles are limbering up. No, that’s not right. The miles are warming up. Hmm, no. The miles STRETCH on.. that’s it!
Where ARE you, anyway? Did you see a sign that said Greensboro? Did you see something gleaming, and a tall sign that looked a little unique? You’ve arrived! The Mack Truck World Headquarters, Greensboro, North Carolina, U.S.A.
Neato! Here’s what to see if you find yourself there. (And it’s the weekend, and the operation is closed down. WHO would do THAT?! Well. Ahem.) MOVING ON..
At this point, I have to warn you, this complex has a quack team of security experts…
These highly trained guard-ducks can be bought off with a few crusts of bread. Then, tempted as you are to watch them feast, it’s time to move on past.
It’s almost funny how easy a parking spot is to find when there’s nobody working.
Hey, nice license plate! Hmm, does that say there’s a store inside?
Yes, it does. Now I’m really glad I came when it was CLOSED, d’oh! Well, at least I saved money. This explains why a lot of you didn’t get bulldog keychains, bracelets with your name on it, and bumper stickers from me. Sorry ’bout that. I truly am. No Mack Truck T-shirt for me either. (The real reason I’m sorry; you caught me.)
The mirrored headquarters building is a pretty interesting sight, I think..
I like how this photo turned out, now that I reflect on it. Well, we better move on, I think we may have ruffled those guards’ feathers. There’s a couple more things to see. How about a truck? After all, it is the Mack TRUCK Headquarters.
It’s a pretty big truck. And pretty shiny, too. They’re much less scary when they’re NOT moving, and you aren’t looking at them in your rearview mirror in shock. Nice truck. Niiiiiiice truck.
It goes without saying, (well, not really, now) that you wouldn’t particularly enjoy this view if the truck was moving. Or probably the next one. (Check out the reflection on the back of the mirror; it’s pretty neat!)
The most beautiful grille in the world? Could be. That’s a lot of chrome to polish. A high-maintenance grille. (Changing the subject): Hey, look – there’s a statue over there! Let’s go see it, and then pose by it, and then leave! (Did you see its reflection in the previous picture? Look again!)
This is Mack. Say hello! I hope you brought a big bronze milkbone.. No? OK, I said I would pose by him before we leave…
Here we are! That’s me on the left. Hope you enjoyed the visit. Next time we’ll come when they’re open – if we can find a parking spot. Roger that?
G. Applegary
Posted on November 18, 2010 - by Gary Applegary
Who Deserves A Break Today?
Riceboro, Georgia, United States – Today
I looked at the crow and he looked back.
He said to me, “Son, I don’t want your Big Mac.”
“The Lord’s taking care of me; yes indeed!”
“Now go on, son, help your brother in need.”
I should have said it right away. “What are you having?” Simple enough to ask. He was standing right next to me. I didn’t say it. Instead, I said… nothing. Frozen like a fish filet, afraid to speak up. And for no justifiable reason. That makes me angry at myself. There’s more chicken in me than in those McNuggets waiting for some hungry customer. Speaking of hungry customer, that HE was; well, hungry, but not a customer. I saw him peripherally. I didn’t dignify him with an acknowledgement or even a glance as he approached the cashier. Maybe I’m just tired from being on the road. Did I even notice him right away? He spoke softly to the cashier. Her loud reply echoed in the small McRestaurant. “I DON’T KNOW IF WE CAN DO THAT – I’LL HAVE TO ASK MY MANAGER!” Spotlight on Man In Line: Now Showing for One Moment Only. All eyes on him, including mine. He looked rough. I wondered if his backpack held all his possessions. Long unkempt hair, tangled beard, weather-worn skin? Check, check, and check. He’s HOMELESS! One of THEM! He must have asked the girl for food; maybe only leftovers that were just going to be tossed out. Whatever nobody else would eat. He obviously hadn’t asked for money. He didn’t ask anyone else in the restaurant for anything, either. He didn’t speak again, didn’t even lift his eyes from the floor. He just stood silently, like the rest of us, waiting for his answer.
I had it figured in my head. If the answer was No, I’d simply ask “What are you having?” Couldn’t his lunch be on me, just this once? I never do this. Like many people, I avoid eye contact; I avoid the individual entirely, if at all possible. Confrontation with the less fortunate makes me nervous. Not because they frighten me. Not because I don’t care, but because I care too much about everyone else’s reaction. That’s what frightens me. Why, they’ll look at ME! What will they think about ME? Will I receive the same scornful look they’re giving this guy? I feel jittery, and I haven’t even drank any of my Coke yet. I’m waiting for my double-cheeseburger. The McCashier is back. “I’M SORRY, BUT MY MANAGER SAYS WE DON’T DO THAT!” The hungry man is dismissed; before I can even move, he is gone. But the show goes on. Two McWorkers standing idly at the counter are loudly discussing “beggars” and their “scams.” Thankfully the subject of their conversation has moved on.
My McFood is ready. I sit down. I’m mad at me. I told myself I would buy the man a meal if he was refused. But I had not. That man clearly has bigger worries than what others think of him – Isn’t that true of me as well? I sigh, disappointed in my failure to act. I check my messages on my Blackberry. I feel guilty. Guilty, for what I have. A a cell phone, a car, a home. I don’t have a lot, but the hungry man has less. Now I tell myself, while I eat, that if I somehow get a second opportunity, I WILL help. I’ll buy him a meal. As if to torment my conscience, he’s now in view outside the window. He’s wheeling a bicycle, actually, two bicycles, attached to one another to form a makeshift cart. There’s bags draped over the sides. I guess all his possessions weren’t in that backpack. I watch him while I eat. The wind is gusting; he works hard, leaning forward, straining. He wheels his cart away from the food mart of the gas station; they didn’t give him any food either. He’s headed for the highway. I haven’t even finished my lunch yet. He’ll be gone by the time I could possibly get him anything and go outside. Whew, that settles that. I can enjoy the last few bites of my meal while my nervousness dissipates. Now I’m mad at me for feeling relieved! But what can I do?
I peer out the window to see where he made off to. There’s his bike/cart parked next to the highway, and there he is seated on the ground next to it. His cardboard sign reads “BROKE — PLEASE HELP.” Okay, I’m doing this – I think. Let’s go. Trash hastily thrown out, I get back in the now-busy line. I tell the cashier I want three cheeseburgers and an apple pie to go. Okay, two apple pies; they’re two for a buck. The order is to go, I tell her. I wonder if she knows what I’m up to. I wonder if I’m going to be the subject of conversation as soon as I leave. In my car I have a Vitamin Water for the drive ahead. I put it in the bag, with the McFood I left with, and pause. Standing beside my car, it’s deja-vu. I falter. Time to over-think things – AGAIN. I might hold up traffic if I stop down there. Somebody might beep their horn at me, at us. The McWorkers are probably going to see me, and resent that I’m encouraging this person to stay outside their restaurant. Wait. I’ve got an out. I could just drive on by. No one will know, will they? The food will keep, and I’ll be hungry later; I have a long drive ahead.
The crow helps me make up my mind. Standing a few feet away, eye-to-eye with me, head cocked to one side, thoughtfully? Questioningly, perhaps even accusingly? Funny, just yesterday I watched a documentary about how intelligent crows are. Sure enough, he looks intelligent; I’d never noticed that in a crow before. What IS he thinking? Is he as disappointed in me as I am? To my shame, for a moment I think, he wants some food, what can I give him? That seals the deal. How am I even considering food to him, while debating whether or not to give it to a human being?
The crow reads my thoughts and flies away. There he is, perched on the McNic table outside. Many folks have sat there to eat, many kids have dropped food, and many more will come and do the same. The crow will be fed; the crow will be fine. What of the hungry man? Why is it so difficult for me to carry out this simple act of kindness? I have time to think about it while I’m driving alone down the interstate. But that question isn’t on my mind just now. No, for a long time, I think about how good it felt to hand the man his bag, to simply say, “Here’s some lunch, and a cold drink.” To hear his grateful “God bless you.” It feels good to think that in some small way I helped. My “good deed for the day.” The inner satisfaction purges any shameful worries, indecision, reluctance I had had earlier.
I don’t know the background of the man I fed. I’ll never know his story. Is it possible he really was just a “scammer” like the McCashiers had asserted in their loud discussion? That doesn’t even matter. The act of kindness was for me just as much as for the hungry man. Maybe even more for me. Fact is, I’m feeling pretty good about myself right now. Does that make my action nothing more than self-serving? I don’t think so; but does that matter either? The experience was a good one for myself, and for the hungry man. We’re both better for it; his stomach, my psyche. So what if it’s only temporary; it’s a start, isn’t it? How, I wonder, do I hold on to this feeling? I decide that I won’t stop again for food this afternoon. That way, I didn’t just give the homeless man lunch - I gave him MY lunch. Again, indulgent on my part. Especially now that I’m telling the story, making myself some sort of McHero. But I think that’s my point. What’s wrong with taking action, even a simple one, to better yourself? I have no illusions about what I’ve done. I didn’t lead a nation across the Red Sea. I didn’t stop the rise of Nazism, abolish slavery, or pull anyone out of a burning building. Anyone could have done what I did. And that’s also the point.
Today, I have been reminded of the people I love. I’ve thought about how fortunate I am to have generous parents, who taught me and showed me that happiness lies in giving, not receiving. I’m thankful that I have a warm home that I’m travelling back to. And what of the hungry man? He’s going to need another meal soon. I’m confident that someone out there will see to it. Don’t just think about it; do it, right now. Give someone a break today.
Proverb: “Giving to the poor is lending to God.”
END.
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G. Applegary
Posted on November 12, 2010 - by Gary Applegary
50 Brite Ideas and Little Life Lessons
It’s time, I think. By now, I really ought to have some measure of collected wisdom to share with the world. I also figure I’d better document it before I forget it all. You probably will read some of these and say, “MY Dad said that!” Or possibly, “Methuselah’s Dad said that!” Anyways, I can’t say I always applied this advice to the fullest, but I learned a lot from Mom and Dad, (Much love!) , from others, from the school of sharp raps on the head, and so forth. (Some came from my own wacky mind; sorry for those ones!) Here’s some choice nuggets: some you may use, some not. You may wish you HAD used the ones you hadn’t. Or no. Ready? Here we go:
- Don’t do your thinking in the shower; you’re wasting water! Get in, get wet, get clean, and get OUT.
- Closely related to #1. In the shower is no time for a Beach Boys medley. Nobody within earshot ever seems to appreciate it.
- In the shower IS a good place to blow your nose. Well, it IS.
- Plain yogurt is NOT vanilla yogurt.
- Trim your nails OUTSIDE. No cleanup! (I think it helps the plants grow, too.. though that’s not scientifically proven… at least not on MY site.)
- When shoes go on sale, stock up. Stack ‘em in the closet, and you have them when you need them.
- Walk on the stripes in a parking lot. When you walk through the middle of parking spaces, you’re treading through untold gobs and gobs of collected oil, grease, radiator dripping etc. It will ruin your shoes quicker, and you’ll track goo into wherever you’re going.
- You can watch Sesame Street at ANY age.
- Plantains are NOT bananas.
- Don’t talk with food in your mouth. It’s rude, PLUS if you talk between bites, you’ll eat slower and probably eat less. NOT that I’m saying you need to eat less.
- Don’t sit on your glasses. And especially don’t sit on DAD’S glasses!
- Chew with your mouth closed. Not everyone is a see-food lover.
- Between my brother and I, we have a full wit.
- Evidently, saying “I didn’t hear you calling me the first two times” is incriminating.
- Do as you’re told WHEN you’re told. (There is probably a desk somewhere with this engraved in it; I had to write this sentence probably thousands of times growing up.)
- The grinder in Dad’s garage is for sharpening the lawn mower blade, NOT taking the fuzz off of tennis balls.
- I can make 2/3 of a pun: the P U.
- Feeding Grandma’s potato salad to the dog = Early bedtime.
- You WILL sit there until you clean your plate. And don’t expect dessert if you claimed to be too full to finish dinner.
- It’s fun to rap a large Frosty on the table at Wendy’s until the air bubble in it pops. However, there is a .05% chance that when it does, you might hit Dad with a blob of ice cream. If THAT happens, there is a 100% chance that you will NOT be getting a Frosty next time. And even if you don’t go to Wendy’s for a long time after, there is a 100% chance that Dad will remember that you don’t get a Frosty. *Personal observation: When YOU don’t get any ice cream, it seems to take everyone else twice as long to finish theirs, and they seem to enjoy it twice as much.
- Don’t try asking both Mom and Dad the same thing. Evidently they discuss stuff.
- When you’re playing hoops and you have a fast break, fake the layup left handed. Someone will ALWAYS go for the block as you lay it in right-handed. I have seen Dad do this successfully 100% of the time, probably hundreds of times.
- Don’t laugh when Dad uses the word “pithy” during lunch. It is NOT a funny word. Hehehe.
- Put the empty Fudgsicle box back in the freezer if you never want to ever have another Fudgsicle again.
- Just because your cousins get away with it does not mean you will.
- Wear loafers. Shoelace-tying is overrated.
- You’re going to wish the Dean HAD been allowed to paddle you at school.
- If you tell a joke and everyone groans, immediately name the person who told you the awful joke. If everyone laughs, it’s YOUR joke!
- Doing your age in pullups has a very small window of opportunity.
- Go outside and play!
- A half-truth is the same as a lie.
- The only good snake is a headless snake.
- Enjoy the art of the UN-rhyme. Examples: “Hector, Hector, the garbage…MAN,” and, “Sam, Sam, the garbage.. COLLECTOR.” This works really well when you’re reading Dr. Seuss out loud, or, not coincidentally, when reading my rhyming stories out loud. Here’s an example, from “Fancy Pants:” ”I received in the mail, as it happened by CHANCE, an invitation to go to a DANCE. Now everyone knows that in this part of FRANCE, if you go to the DANCE you must wear fancy….. TROUSERS!” (Laughter here, at the un-rhyme.) Anyways.
- “You’re a poet, and don’t even know it; but your feet really show it…. Cause they’re such Longfellows.”
- Don’t PULL the pushbroom. (I really don’t know why I tried this; it could have something to do with the fact that when I was little and would drop something near the wall, I would bend over and whack my head.)
- A football or basketball doesn’t wear out for a long, long time. We kept worn smooth basketballs for yard games, and Dad even invented games to play with the inner rubber bladder of footballs and basketballs long after the cover had worn out.
- When you gargle, spit out the mouthwash into the toilet. It MUST kill SOME bacteria, plus it kinda looks like you might have scrubbed the toilet. Let’s face it, you need the credit however you can get it.
- A lot of people will forget instructions you gave them just moments ago, however, if you yell at them, say something really mean, or make an embarrassing faux pas, they will remember that for years and years. And years.
- It’s only funny when done to someone else.
- Don’t wad your dirty socks into a ball. Seems nobody likes un-wadding dirty socks.
- Speaking of socks, whoever came up with the idea of turning them inside out after a day and wearing them again is probably single. Or about to be.
- Wedgie not, lest you be wedgied.
- Straight from Mom: “Root beer barrels are just the right size to choke on.”
- You can use static electricity to stick your socks to the ceiling, if you have the right kind of ceiling, with humorous effect. Degree of difficulty increases with cathedral ceilings.
- (Optional for ladies:) Even on days you don’t shave, make ‘em wonder. Splash on some Aqua Velva anyways. There’s just something about it.
- Sorry, but ketchup, pickles, and olives in your martini: NOT vegetables.
- When you hear your middle name, either Mom is mad at you, you are a serial killer, or an assasin. Why do they even have them.
- It’s OK to admit you like Milli Vanilli, New Kids on the Block, or Dustin Beeble. As long as you follow it up with “Just kidding!”
- Brush your tongue once a day, just like you brush your tooth.
- Pickled beets taste NOTHING like sweet pickles, or any sort of pickle at all. Why do they even have them.
Well, that’s it for now. Once you have these down pat, let me know. I’ll give you more to work on then.
