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Betty and Bob
In our younger days we survived a caustic divorce between parents. As we approached adulthood and reconnected with Father, we spent a lot of time writing letters. It was nothing for us to write 10 to 15 page, single spaced, double sided report about life and loves.
Most of these life reports went to sister, brother and Father and upon occasion a heartfelt letter sent to Mother.
Bro and sis would respond usually with their own multi-paged reports of their own activities, failures and accomplishments, children, weather…all caught up.
Mother sent our letters back, highlighted in bright red ink, sometimes with note attached.
All spelling errors corrected, erroneous phraseology exposed, hidden meanings revealed, use of language admonished, “how dare youisms” set straight for the record…
- Who would keep such records?
- Why do you think like that?
- What is wrong with you?
Hence the Betty & Bob jokes.
Father was the family resource for delightfully, wicked, playful jokes, puns, play on words and overall wicked sarcasm.
This ability was not lost on us even though he became lost to us at a critical point in our life. We appreciate having lived our life through Seven Dirty Words, Playboy Magazine and owning the relative freedom to have interesting and intelligent conversations with whomever we choose.
We imagine ourselves free individuals who live under the protection of a Constitution and Bill of Rights.
Which works out well for us because Chaos demands constant attention therefor Control and Growth exist in constant flux in order to:
- learn new information (always)
- check our social gauge vs stereotype paradigm levels
- have a hearty laugh with virtually anyone
We are entertaining and always good for a laugh, but it doesn’t help that our conversations can get a little loud which can bring complaints from co-workers for excessive chattering.
Somewhere the rubber just left the road which sent us into a Zero G Acclimation spin where up is down, down is up and nothing matters unless it happens to offend.
Perhaps an evolutionary practical joke as each generation strives to stamp out the existence of generations past.
Wolf Packs Happen
We generally agree the “immigrant gene” is a natural self preservation reaction to a phenomena we refer to as wolf-pack cycles.
Wolf packs cycles happen when normal people seem to collectively establish or re-establish the social pecking order and scurry about tattling, interfering, obstructing and being down right bitchy to friends and foe alike for long periods of time which causes upheaval in our collective lives, especially within the workplace.
Out with the bad air, in with the good.
As for Chaos, needless to say, the attempts of a WOKE culture dedicated to stamping out chaos sends Chaos into total ecstasy. The potential for chaos is limitless the sheer volume of possibilities astounds even Chaos..
We had lived our life with the confident assumption the rule of law was the goal. That the benevolence government had our back and wasn’t constantly plotting how to reach further into our pockets to provide services for our own good that we didn’t realize we were in need of.
Toss the Baby Out With the Bath
This particular wolf pack however disintegrates the confidence of a free individual into a groveling kowtowing fools who disrespect the very laws that allow them to protest freely.
We aren’t totally sure America as a unique experiment will survive this latest ignorance but in the mean time…
Have a laugh on us.
