Monday, January 31, 2011


It's Monday in Hooterville. Up in St. Louis, only 150 miles due north, they get 14 inches of snow tomorrow night. The only weather question here in my part of Tennessee is whether we get maybe less than inch of sleet/snow or massive thunderstorms. Notice how I used 'weather' and 'whether' in the same sentence?

That's called alliteration... or maybe a palindrome. All I know for sure is they shouldn't make HS students take English Comp. on hot days right after lunch. I'm getting sleepy just remembering about it!

So I went to the local vocational-rehab place today. I have a new product coming on line in March. The customer wants the product partially assembled before it hits his assembly line. Not much to it really. Form a plastic strap into a circle and start a 10-24 screw through the hole.

I go to vocational-rehab centers for that sort of job. Now is where we play perspective bingo... let's have fun!!!

Dude, instead of paying someone a decent wage to do that, you go to a place that employs retarded people! And the lower price they do the work for is subsidized by tax payers! BOO, HISS evil greedy business guy David!

Well I suppose that's one way of looking at it. When I explain my actions to anybody, is only because I'm fond of that person. It's me being gracious.

Considering all the enormously idiotic things our government spends tax payer dollars on, subsidizing steady work for retarded people is like the Apollo program in comparison.
Retarded people are like that for a variety of reasons. Not enough oxygen getting to their brains during birth. Mom had measles while pregnant. An extra chromosone. They're Americans too, and all of us came within a hair's thickness of being them.

Getting them out to a place where they can work, earn a wage, give their parents time to breathe and run errands, that's all good. I'm happy my tax dollars subsidize that. I'm happy to send them some work.

But that's not what I wanted to talk about; I was being gracious just then. What I want to know is why retarded people are more friendly than we 'normal' folk with our triple digit IQ's.

A man in his fifties with a walker next to his chair turned around and said, "I'm Andrew, I'm from Lexington. Who are you? Where are you from?"

A man in late thirties with Cerebral Palsy AND mentally retarded (how's that feeling sorry for yourself thing working out?) walked up, told me his name was James, told me he was glad to see me.

A young man walked up to me. Hair parted in the middle, soft blonde curls. He could've stepped out of a Rembrandt painting really. He smiled broadly at me, patted his chest and said, "Pat!"

I thought, 'well son, your parents sure did name you right, as it turned out' but what I sincerely said was, "Pat, I'm very glad to meet you. I'm David."

I could've been any of these people. You could've been any of these people.

Had my meeting with the center managers, then went back to my factory, where we all have triple digit IQ's. On my way out the door, James asked if I knew his Momma and Daddy. Told him I don't think so.

What I wonder about is why are retarded people friendlier than smart people?

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