“Workin’ hard, or hardly workin’, bees?”
They never laugh. Honeybees are talented, but I’ve never heard of a multi-lingual one. Maybe they just don’t speak English.
Nobody around here is fluent. That must be it. I did speak with one lady the other day who laughed. Her co-worker rolled her eyes at the terrible pun.
Last Saturday was a real treat. A friend at the Farmer’s Market went out of town for his daughter’s wedding. He asked me to sell the beautiful lathe-turned wooden pens.
All morning people stopped by the booth. I was in sales mode, and full of good cheer. “I’m a real Lynchburger now!”
One of the pens was turned from the fingerboard of an old violin. A group of college boys eyed it.
“Hey man, hold this up to your ear. What do you hear? ” I smirked from the High Ground of surprise, his youthful face unaware. The World hadn’t kicked him in the teeth yet. Who would be so bold to pun on a Saturday?
“Uhhh…” He listened, as if to a seashell.
“THE WORLD’S TINIEST VIOLIN!”
“Ohhh, bro, he got you.” The other students were appreciative of the kill. Fine young lads.
You’d think I have ten kids with all of these “dad jokes”, but no - I just really like the world. It’s fun to give it’s suspenders a good snap, and slap it on the back in a hearty “Hello, friend!”
I’m also as concerned as I’ve ever been for it.
Maybe it’s being male, and wanting to “fix it”, or the feeling of being pinned.
When I was a little boy, the neighbor Karl stopped by. I was scared of him (for no reason. He was a decent man.) He grabbed me suddenly, pinning my arms, laughing playfully. “Whatcha gonna do now?”
The front yard was just out of reach. It was all I could see. My head was immobile. He let me go, and I bolted for it. (No hard feelings, Karl. It’s funny now.)
The only thing I could see was right in front of me.
Now, as a grown man, I feel pinned again. The unseen arms of “the system” and “they” close in tightly.
All I can see is what’s right in front of me.
That’s you. And you, and you. (But not too many people - just a few.)
The world - one person deep. The person right in front of me.
Oh, wouldn’t it be nice to opine from a breezy mountain top, offering some tasty answers on how we might fix our situation, or implement a new policy.
I have none to give. I’m sweating in the shop, too. Greasy, grimy, machinery whirring, alarm bells ringing, hammers clanging…
I wipe my brow, leave a smudge across my nose, and offer you a grin of encouragement on this beautifully flawed Wednesday.
Let’s keep on keeping on. Pass me a wrench, will ya?
Workin’ hard, or hardly workin’?
Josh
“Hey, gimmie a brake, wontcha?”
Given the picture, I thought this was about changing brake pads?
Here🔧, let's do this.