The other day my family and I were in Liverpool on a surprisingly sunny day for Britain. We were sitting on a park bench near a busy street as we ate our lunch and enjoyed the sunshine. Just then a bus pulled up to the light and stopped in front of us, and I was a bit startled to read the sign on its side.
The sign asked three questions:
‘Bleeding bottom? Lumps under the skin? Persistent cough? If you have these symptoms, you need to see your General Practitioner immediately.’
Now this is not exactly what you’d like to see when eating your lunch. I pointed out the sign to my daughter Alexa who thought it slightly strange that I would actually be pointing out such a sign to her. But then as we talked more about it, the imagination went into overdrive.
I can imagine a few different potential scenarios that could emerge as someone reads this sign on the side of the bus.
1. A person reads the sign and says, “Why, yes, I have a bleeding bottom, and I have lumps under my skin. But thank God, I don’t have a persistent cough! Whew! Luckily, I’m fine. That was a close one. No need to see my GP! I can finally get on with my life….”
2. A person reads the sign and says, “What? Wait a minute! Yes, I have a bleeding bottom, lumps under my skin, and a persistent cough. But until just this minute, I thought everybody had those symptoms! Are you telling me that this is some kind of a problem? I thought it was normal! Dear God, I had better get over to my GP as soon as possible!”
3. A person reads the sign and says, “Yes, I have a bleeding bottom, lumps under my skin and a persistent cough. Had ‘em for years. But I don’t need anybody telling me what to do! Screw you, jerks—I’m not going to see my GP just because some sign on a bus tells me to do it!”
4. A person reads the sign and says, “Why yes, I have a bleeding bottom, lumps under my skin and a persistent cough. It’s made my life a living hell! 3rd pair of pants I’ve ruined today! I’ve even thought about going to see my GP about these symptoms, but the NHS health care system is so bad in this country I’ll probably die before I make my appointment. Forget it. What’s the point?”
And the irony of it all is, they say Americans don’t understand irony. To me, if someone has a bleeding bottom, lumps under their skin AND a persistent cough, wouldn’t they figure out by now that they are seriously messed up? Does someone actually need to put that kind of a sign on the side of a bus?
Are people seriously that stupid that they wouldn’t realize that having a bleeding bottom, lumps under the skin and a persistent cough just might mean they are in a really bad way already? The very second my butt started bleeding, I would drop whatever I was doing and shove my way ahead of everybody in the doctor’s waiting room. If I had lumps under my skin I’d be finding out where the doctor lived and pay him a visit at his house after hours.
I guess a persistent cough isn’t so bad though…
Saturday, July 17, 2010
Thursday, February 18, 2010
The Trials of a Plate-Spinner
Once upon a time there was a professional plate-spinner. He was never really taught how to do it, but over time picked up the skills from watching other spinners and ultimately just trying it himself. Over the years he became better and better at adding more plates to the thin rods and keeping them spinning. His mantra was: ‘Keep the plates spinning at all costs!’ Once a plate was added to a new rod and set spinning, he committed himself to do whatever it took to keep it going. The more plates he added, the more exhausted he became, running from plate to plate in the effort to keep it from wobbling and ultimately crashing to the ground.
His audience loved to watch him spin the plates. Sitting in their comfortable chairs, they derived much pleasure from the show. They felt that since they had paid for the opportunity, their role was to kick back and enjoy. In fact they would insist that since they were paying audience members, and thus paying his salary, it was their job to point out to the plate-spinner the need to add more plates. If they felt he wasn’t spinning enough plates, they never hesitated to shout out ‘Add another plate!’ In an effort to satisfy his audience, the plate-spinner would always oblige, adding more plates and running ragged in the process.
Over the years the plate-spinner tried various strategies to induce audience members to get out of their seats and help him spin some plates. Oddly enough a few did get up onstage and quickly—mostly by trial and error—learned how to spin some plates. But rather than taking work away from the head plate-spinner, the Plate Spinning Team allowed him to add more spinning plates. He continued to spin the most plates by far, while the various audience members came and went, each trying to do their part to help. Oftentimes they would become exhausted, quit the stage, and return to their seats to rest up. Some were so worn out that they left the audience altogether, swearing they would never return to such an exhausting performance. Such experiences left the additional plates to the head plate-spinner, but he never complained—he just ran harder from plate to plate.
There were a few times over the years where the head plate-spinner became too exhausted to run down the line of spinning plates, and a plate would begin wobbling and ultimately crash to the floor. At this the audience would boo, registering its displeasure over the broken plate. A few times they threatened to fire the plate-spinner and replace him with a younger, fitter, fresher plate-spinner who could handle the demands of the job. But the plate-spinner would take a quick breather, gulp down a drink, wipe his sweating forehead, and manage to set another plate spinning. Back and forth he ran…
One day an audience member dared to ask a taboo question of the other audience members. ‘How come all we’re doing is spinning these plates? Why do we have to spend all of our time, effort and energy keeping them going?’ The other audience members—and even the head plate-spinner—looked at her with shocked expressions. A chorus of voices responded: ‘Why, of course, this is what we do! Why would you even ask a question like that? Once we add a plate we’re duty-bound to keep it spinning for as long as possible! What kind of a question is that anyway?’
But she persisted and asked another question. ‘Why can’t we stop the plates, take them all down, and really think through what it is we’re doing here? Are you sure that keeping all these plates spinning is what we’re supposed to be about?’
‘Never!’ gasped the head plate-spinner as he ran from plate to plate. ‘Didn’t you hear everybody the first time? This is our identity! This is what we do, what we’re all about! We add plates and keep ‘em spinning at all costs. What is the matter with you? Now you’ve got a choice to make: either get up on this stage and grab some plates—or if you’re unwilling to serve, maybe you should leave. Always remember: the show must go on.’
His audience loved to watch him spin the plates. Sitting in their comfortable chairs, they derived much pleasure from the show. They felt that since they had paid for the opportunity, their role was to kick back and enjoy. In fact they would insist that since they were paying audience members, and thus paying his salary, it was their job to point out to the plate-spinner the need to add more plates. If they felt he wasn’t spinning enough plates, they never hesitated to shout out ‘Add another plate!’ In an effort to satisfy his audience, the plate-spinner would always oblige, adding more plates and running ragged in the process.
Over the years the plate-spinner tried various strategies to induce audience members to get out of their seats and help him spin some plates. Oddly enough a few did get up onstage and quickly—mostly by trial and error—learned how to spin some plates. But rather than taking work away from the head plate-spinner, the Plate Spinning Team allowed him to add more spinning plates. He continued to spin the most plates by far, while the various audience members came and went, each trying to do their part to help. Oftentimes they would become exhausted, quit the stage, and return to their seats to rest up. Some were so worn out that they left the audience altogether, swearing they would never return to such an exhausting performance. Such experiences left the additional plates to the head plate-spinner, but he never complained—he just ran harder from plate to plate.
There were a few times over the years where the head plate-spinner became too exhausted to run down the line of spinning plates, and a plate would begin wobbling and ultimately crash to the floor. At this the audience would boo, registering its displeasure over the broken plate. A few times they threatened to fire the plate-spinner and replace him with a younger, fitter, fresher plate-spinner who could handle the demands of the job. But the plate-spinner would take a quick breather, gulp down a drink, wipe his sweating forehead, and manage to set another plate spinning. Back and forth he ran…
One day an audience member dared to ask a taboo question of the other audience members. ‘How come all we’re doing is spinning these plates? Why do we have to spend all of our time, effort and energy keeping them going?’ The other audience members—and even the head plate-spinner—looked at her with shocked expressions. A chorus of voices responded: ‘Why, of course, this is what we do! Why would you even ask a question like that? Once we add a plate we’re duty-bound to keep it spinning for as long as possible! What kind of a question is that anyway?’
But she persisted and asked another question. ‘Why can’t we stop the plates, take them all down, and really think through what it is we’re doing here? Are you sure that keeping all these plates spinning is what we’re supposed to be about?’
‘Never!’ gasped the head plate-spinner as he ran from plate to plate. ‘Didn’t you hear everybody the first time? This is our identity! This is what we do, what we’re all about! We add plates and keep ‘em spinning at all costs. What is the matter with you? Now you’ve got a choice to make: either get up on this stage and grab some plates—or if you’re unwilling to serve, maybe you should leave. Always remember: the show must go on.’
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