I love to kid my big sister. She’s a jewel, and we’ve become good friends in our golden years. She was, by far, the smartest one in our family. She once got a A+ on her report card because her teacher, a football coach and Navy Cross recipient, (not an easy man to please) said it was the highest grade he could give her.

This is a cute story and it goes way back to when girls took a class in “Home Economics,” not by choice if I remember correctly.

Anyway, she came home one day with this assignment to cook something or other. I don’t remember what, only that it involved hot water. Accordingly, she put a pan of water on the range, intending to return shortly. Something happened, maybe her friend Bobette Piper called. Anyway, our Sainted Mother found the pot later, the water having all evaporated, the pan dry.

It gave SM a great deal of pleasure for years to point out that she had raised a daughter that couldn’t even boil water.

Hey, I love kidding my sister. She’s actually a good cook now. She can make a tortilla soup that would make Rudy Giuliani tell the truth. She gave me a great recipe for chili. I had lots of fun with it, especially after I realized that it required almost all of the ingredients needed for a Bloody Mary. She also taught me how to make mashed potatoes like SM used to make, a secret that should be recorded ere the “instant” brigands take over the culinary world. My Sis is really one of the world’s great treasures.

Of course, there are no stories she could tell about “Perfect Child.”

It's harder than it looks.
You should see me try it.

Morning Thoughts: November 17, 2017

I’m so old that I can remember when your company only let you off on Thanksgiving Day and you had to go back to work on Friday.

We never thought it cruel or heartless. Everyone else had to do it, so they said. Consistency is a great balm.

Actually, anyone paying attention would have noticed that the rule didn’t apply to upper management. They would act as if things were normal, only they just didn’t show up on Friday. Who was going to question them?

Once my fellow sufferers and I were well assured of the yearly pattern, we just quietly went about our work as if nothing was going on. After all, we each had our specific jobs to do, and we went it about it with all the ardor, professionalism, attention to detail, and reliability for which we were known and respected. Efficiency was our trademark and loyalty our brand. Friday found us adhering to our reputation for teamwork.

Jack brought the ice and a couple of buckets.

Christie brought the tomato juice.

Ron hauled in the celery.

Steve made sure the Worcestershire Sauce arrived, along with some lime juice and pepper.

Sally brought some Elton John cassettes. Someone else had Cheech and Chong.

Pat brought plastic drinking glasses.

I picked up enough vodka to outfit a small Navy destroyer.

Bill brought the duplicate key to the Boss’s liquor cabinet in case we ran out.  

We had a rare Pentecostal with a sense of humor, a teetotaler who volunteered to play receptionist with a prepared list of attention-diverting responses such as:

“Oh hi Boss. Hope you’re having fun. We’re all fine and I’ll let them you called to check. That was so thoughtful of you. I’m sure they will appreciate it.”

“Jimmie has stepped out to the men’s room just now. Pat ran over to the Blueprint Shop. Yes. I'll be sure to remind them.”

“They are all busy trimming a large mat board right now and I think it’s best not to interrupt …. We don’t want to have a cut finger, now do we?”

“She’s on the other phone with a client just now, may be a while.”

“The noise? Oh, I think one of the guys from the ad agency upstairs stopped by to share a joke with the guys in back.”

“What? Oh? Oh no, I don’t think they minded having to work today at all.”

“You just have a great day and don’t worry about us. Pat and Jimmie will take care of things just fine. Bye.”

 As Jimmy Buffett once said, “Some things never change.”

As they used to say back in the day,
what happens at the office stays in the office.