Aster la vista plant life. I hopped on my astral plane and headed for the animal kingdom. From spore to sprout was an interminable boarding process from hell. The gate agents seemed engulfed by a morass of myopic malaise. But as sure as mayonnaise is yummy enough to let us enjoy vegetables on their lonesome, I knew the opportunity would turnip soon to release my inner animal. It seemed like forever. Eons and epochs blended together before my mitotic formed the longed for aster. Or do you say meiotic. TomAto, Tamahto. But I never called the whole thing off. Even though it took further eternities before I was able to make an aster of myself; I did it. So now as I soar along on my own private astral plain I shall continue reaching for the stars.
Back in the days of irrational exuberance and before all your Spondulix was online and downloadable; Intuit came along with a little ditty called Quicken. Since we were young and the internets were dumb much of the accounts, spending, and bills required data entry rather than syncing with obtuse and arcane file formats from various financial institutions. Cash transactions required a receipt.
But since the household was hemorrhaging money, as all good job creating consumer households should, it was necessary to spend Saturday mornings trying to balance and track what was going where and why. It became clear that the only thing quick about this process was how it quickened the ex out the door weekend mornings due to the inevitable discovery of numerous and unmentioned charges that would miraculously appear on the snail mailed paper statements.
Recriminations and many a ruined weekend followed.
At the time the only thing Quicken quickened was a trip to divorce court and understanding of the quick bunny trail to financial ruin.
Now that everyone across the globe can pick your pocket with nary a reach around or how do you do, Quicken has fulfilled the catchy name’s promise.
But the question still remains. “Do you have a receipt for that?”
So many expectations . Such little time. The whole world is blustering with great expectations. Perhaps one of the most pernicious is what I expect is the same that you expect. All tidily wrapped up in that ancient pearl, “Do Unto Others As You Would Have Them Do unto You.”
The seekers friend can expound ad nauseum on different cultures and different takes, but it all boils down to expectation.
One of my faves is:
“Never impose on others what you would not choose for yourself.” — Confucius(c. 500 BC)
I expect you to remember that.
I like this because it does not expect you to know and to do unto me what I want done unto me. If I want something I will ask. As my mother would so eloquently state, “I am not a mind reader.” But if I did ask for something she would quickly append that with, ” How can you ask for more than you are already getting, cause that is all you are getting and there ain’t no more. Selfish selfish child. Now go play in traffic and don’t come back until the street lights are on ( an ambiguous and inaccurate way to tell time in an urban setting at best) and not a minute later.” But she had her expectations too. The ones a child spends a lifetime learning about the hard way.
Well so much for my childhood scars. Not a path I expected to divert down in the posting.
Now to Confy. I guess since there are some wacky people out there who like to have some wacky things done to them I expect some clear communication between all participating parties with no fear of hurt feelings, reprimands, and or death sentences imposed for a mere suggestion of and communication of said wackiness. “Good luck with that.” Even if Confy didn’t say that I just did.
I close with a wise saying from the only POTUS never to be POTUS taken from his book of wise sayings: