Soup from a Nail Revisited

My fifth grade teacher told our class the tale of a man who during the Middle Ages would travel from village to hamlet claiming to be able to make soup from a nail.  The townsfolk would gather around a caldron, presumably in the town square, which they’d fill with water and build a fire underneath.  All would draw near as the stranger produced a nail from his vest pocket, muttering some incantation before dropping the nail in.  He’d stir the “soup” with a ladle and proclaim, “Yes it’s coming along nicely.  If only we had some cabbage to flavor it.”  One of the locals would scurry off to fetch an oxcart of cabbage; the scene would be repeated with turnips, or beets, or whatever they ate in those days.  The man would then divert everyone’s attention long enough to slip the nail out of the caldron, again mutter some magic words, and – voilà: soup from a nail.

The moral of course is that he did not in fact make soup from a nail; he made soup in spite of the nail, which was a simple prop to divert attention.

As much as we may like to think we’re too clever to fall for some ruse that obvious, we are often too quick to draw a line from cause to effect.  A forklift operator takes a corner too sharply and damages some shelving.  He was listening to loud rock music through his ear buds, so that must be what caused the accident.  But, he was also wearing a blue shirt at the time, so maybe blue shirts cause accidents.  He had a cheese Danish for breakfast that morning.  Could the cheese Danish be the culprit?

We are bombarded with these messages in advertising.  A man drives this or that brand of car and he gets the girl; a woman’s adoring family smiles approvingly because she gets their clothes cleaner with this or that laundry detergent; a wife gazes at her husband adoringly as they walk hand-in-hand because he asked his doctor about this or that prescription drug.  You want to be like these people?  You buy the product.

In this election year, there will be a veritable blitzkrieg of recycled “soup from a nail” arguments.  There were more jobs when this party was in office, therefore they created jobs.  The deficit was smaller when the other was in charge, therefore they must be more financially responsible.  Another candidate was able to obtain “bi-partisan support” for his referendum, therefore he can get people to work together.  They will pounce on every “hot button” issue with this convoluted logic.  As I’ve stated repeatedly: it’s all smoke and mirrors, it’s sleight of hand, it’s confounding.

It’s soup from a nail.

(P.S. The forklift operator crashed because he’d been up half the night playing Fallout 4 and binging on energy drinks.)

Ignorance is Bliss (or a Reasonable Facsimile)

In looking back on my life, I’ve come to a startling revelation: Every wrong decision I’ve ever made could have been avoided if I’d only been a little dumber.  You heard me right.  If only I’d taken the oft travelled path, if I’d limited my choice to the first two options that popped into my head, if I’d only asked myself: “What would Kim Kardashian do?”

But no, I overthought everything.                                                        

It seems every time I turn around someone is falling backwards into a small fortune; waking up from a night of hard drinking and finding a Mark Fidrych rookie card stuck to their forehead, or inheriting a silver mine in Wyoming from a Great Uncle they never even knew they had. 

Yes, ignorance truly is bliss.  Or, a reasonable facsimile.

                              
In a typical day I reckon I see a hundred or so people, shuffling down the street in seasonally inappropriate garb, with that far-off glazed stare; at the stop light, a finger run up their nostril to the second knuckle; in line at the Burrito Barn, phone out, getting ready to share the latest internet hoax with 1,627 online friends.  They care not one whit about global warming, human trafficking, or what the stock market is doing, and most are as content as a pig rooting in mud.

To be clear, I’m not talking about those with diminished mental acuity.  I mean reasonably intelligent people who’ve intentionally set the bar embarrassingly low, and don’t take any particular interest in climbing over it.  They’re phoning it in; they’ve chosen a dumbed down life, and when they’re honest with themselves, will admit it was a no-brainer.  Ignorance equals bliss.  In a manner of speaking.

So the next time you have a critical, even life-changing decision to make, do yourself a favor: Get a coin, and flip it.  Make sure you determine in advance which side means what.

Stay dumb out there.

Man Enticed to Leave Larger Tip after Being Called “Sweetie”

Huntsville, AL – Sources reported today that Branigan’s Bar & Grille patron Dale Critz was prompted to leave a nearly 35% tip for bartender Brandi Philameno after having two Jack and Sevens at the neighborhood watering hole after work.

“Brandi’s good” Critz said with a nod, “she always takes care of me.”

“If they (men) come in here alone, I’ll call ‘em “honey” or “sweetie” and smile a little more than usual”, the 24 year old raven haired beauty reported with a shrug.  “Maybe I’ll pretend to yawn and stretch my arms out, arch my back a little”, she added, winking.

Critz reportedly tossed an extra dollar bill on the bar while basking in the sight of Philameno bent over the bottled beer cooler.  “She just has that extra…  something”, he said, “not like Connie.”  Critz was referring to 37 year old former bar manager Connie Agar, who’d recently left to pursue other opportunities.  Agar - who in addition to tending bar was also tasked with several managerial duties - had many more years’ experience than Philameno, who often confused the club soda and ginger ale, and had to constantly refer to the blackboard for the daily specials.

“If showing a little skin when I reach up for the Grey Goose, or tossing my head seductively as I’m dropping off the tab keeps ‘em coming back, then so be it”, Philameno concluded, running her professionally manicured nails through her hair.

At press time, Critz was reportedly inquiring as to Philameno’s favorite brand of perfume.