Saturday, June 20, 2009

language

From the get-go, I have had people advising me about my language. My mom said,"I saw you on the tube (she's hipper than us, I kid you not) and you seemed very angry. That's okay, but don't swear. You said "g.d. questions". You know, kids are in that building."

Love my mom.

I was told by someone I adore that the very first letter I wrote to the Board needed to be re-framed to help speak their language. Sadly, I had already sent it, when I asked her to proof it. But you know what? If I rewrote the letter and sent it 12 hours later, NONE OF THIS WOULD HAVE HAPPENED. I would have received no response or a polite response, or possibly, radically, a "let's talk about that"...a meeting Norman Moses assures me would end in bewilderment, hypnotized bybusiness-ease.

Some people are beginning to hate me. But, all I did was use my first amendment rights. Not only can you get fired for that in this country, it'll cost you friends and respect.

C'est la vie, c'est la guerre, c'est la pomme de terre.

4 comments:

  1. as for the picture, I was thinking maybe just a dill pickle with a circle and a line through it. The caption can read, "Dillner? I barely know her!"

    Just throwing that out there.

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  2. sorry, we don't do pommes de terre in our house. Doesn't go with Atkins. (I do them whenever I LEAVE the house, though!)

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