Deutsch’s Diatribe

At the front of a post office, there are usually two boxes for people to drop off their mail as they drive through. The sensible and logical thing to do would be to drive up to the last one—if there’s nobody in front of you—so that people behind you can use the second box. Not only is it sensible and logical, it’s courteous.

But I would say that 75% of the people driving in front of me do NOT do that. No, they stop at the first one, making me (and other cars) wait behind them. Is it too much of an imposition to drive the extra 20 or 30 feet? Is it a matter of laziness? It’s not like they have to walk there. They’re operating a motorized vehicle, after all, although I use the term “operating” loosely.

How self-absorbed do you have to be to not even realize that there are other human beings around you? Or is it that they realize the presence of others, but that they simply don’t care? They enjoy making people wait. It’s their world, right? Everybody else is just paying rent.

Needless to say, I always pull ahead to the last postal box. Because if I didn’t, then I would be a hypocrite . . . and hypocrites are my biggest pet peeve.

The names of products intrigue me. (As my most recent post about car names colorfully  illustrates.)

Take, for instance, jaw breakers. This is a type of candy. If you were to judge it solely by its name, does it sound appealing? Most certainly not. What are the makers of this candy implying? That their carefully labeled confection accurately simulates the experience of having your jaw broken? Count me out. Pass the Smarties.

And what if you didn’t even know what jaw breakers were and somebody offered them to you?

“Hey, buddy, want a jaw breaker?”
“Uh . . . no.”
“You don’t know what you’re missin’.”
“I’m fairly certain that I do.”

If companies want to sell candy by tying it to a specific experience, they should name the candy “Hot Sex.” My instincts tell me that name would conjur up more pleasing thoughts than if a person were to contemplate at length what it would feel like to have their jaw fractured, possibly in multiple places.

Upon further reflection, forget the Smarties. I’ll take a bag of ”Hot Sex” instead.

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Think About This:

“There is wisdom in turning as often as possible from the familiar to the unfamiliar: it keeps the mind nimble, it kills prejudice, and it  fosters humor.”

George Santayana, philosopher (1863-1952)

I’m starting a new series in this blog.  (Because really, I don’t have enough of them going as it is, right?)

The names of certain cars befuddle me.  Specifically, I can’t understand the thought process behind the naming of these cars.  One such vehicle is the Ford Probe.

Correct me if I’m wrong, but what possible positive connation accompanies the word “probe”?  Is that a pleasant word?  If so, under what circumstances?  And if those circumstances do exist, should they serve as the basis for naming a car?

Whenever somebody mentions a “probe,” people usually make themselves scarce. It could be a congressional probe. It could be a financial probe. It could be a type of probe that will remain nameless in this family-friendly blog. Doesn’t matter. The mere mention of such things will clear out a room . . . or at the very least, make people rather uncomfortable.

Nonetheless, somebody at Ford thought that naming the company’s compact car “The Probe” was a good idea.  Why not call the car “The Inquest”?  How about “The Inquisition”? Or maybe “The Poker” or the “The Prodder”?

Unfortunately, the possibilities are endless.  The logic, on the other hand, is not.

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Think About This:

“A sect or party is an elegant incognito devised to save a man from the vexation of thinking.”

Ralph Waldo Emerson, writer and philosopher (1803-1882)

I was putting gas in my car the other day when I noticed something.

There was a sticker on the pump, alongside of a button. The sticker read, “Push here to speak with attendant.”

Obviously, that button is for people who have questions regarding the pumping of their gas. However, the sticker doesn’t come right out and say that.  What if you just want to strike up some idle conversation? 

“Yes?”
“Hi, I’m on pump #8.”
“How may I help you?”
“How you doin’ today?”
“Can I help you, sir?”
“Just wanted to chat. Say, seen any good movies lately?”
“Sir, are you experiencing a problem with the gas pump?”
“Nope . . . What did you think of the new Transformers movie? Personally, I thought it fell victim to lazy writing and hollow characterization.”
“Sir—”
 
People need to be careful about the signs they put up. If it tells me to do something, I might just do it.

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Quote of the Day:

“That some good can be derived from every event is a better proposition than that everything happens for the best, which it assuredly does not.”

James Kern Feibleman, philosopher and psychiatrist (1904-1987)

I’d like to introduce a new series in my blog. It’s called “How to Freak People Out.”

When I say “freak people out,” I don’t mean in a big “four-alarm fire, somebody-call-the-cops” way.  I mean in a very low-key and subtle fashion. (Also, I don’t actually expect you to do any of these things. Actually, I recommend that you don’t actually do any of these things. They’re mainly for entertainment purposes only. Thank you.)

1. Address everybody you speak with as “Brother” or “Sister.”

The following example illustrates my point.

“Matt, will you please call John Smith. He left a message for you.”
“Absolutely, Sister Beth.”
“Uh . . . thanks.”
“You’re very welcome, Sister Beth.”

If you don’t know their name?  Simply call them “Brother” or “Sister.” The reaction will be roughly the same. That reaction is this: they will think to themselves, “There’s something wrong with this guy,” and they won’t want to be around you.

In other words, they’ll be freaked out.

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Think About This:

“I was reading the dictionary. I thought it was a poem about everything.”

Steven Wright, comedian (b. 1955)