So my boss comes into my office one day and sits in my chair behind my desk. It used to be his office so I guess he must have felt it was OK. We had switched offices sometime earlier. He liked my southern exposure I suppose.
I sat opposite him in one of the visitor chairs on the other side of my desk. Larry folded his hands together like circus tents and beat his fingers together the way butterflies beat their wings.
“What clown came up with this bright idea? He demanded to know.
“What idea and who are you calling a clown?” I asked.
Then he stood up and proceeded to peer over the desk at my shoes.
“What are you looking at?”
“I just wanted to now if you were wearing those clown shoes I got you, is all.”
Stuck in the middle again….
I was having dinner the other night with my granddaughter at a Korean restaurant in Southern Indiana called The Rice Bowl. I had the Bibimbap and Jade was having the Korean Noodle Soup. While we were enjoying our delicious and succulent repast and having a pleasant conversation, I was reminded of something one of my first bosses used to say to me many years ago. I decided to share it with Jade.
“Don’t break your rice bowl,” he would say.
Now Jade allowed that this was a pretty cool thing to say, but I could tell by the quizzical look on her face that she wasn’t quite sure what it meant.
“What’s that mean?” she asked.
“Well.” I said, “if any of us were doing anything wrong he would warn us not to break our rice bowl. It was his way of saying, don’t put your job in jeopardy.”
She still didn’t quite get it so I further elucidated, “You see, when you work, you get money. With the money you get food. If you lose your job, you can’t buy food. Thus, don’t break you rice bowl.”
It was an aha moment of the first magnitude. I could see the look of understanding cross her countenance which of course brought a smile to mine.
I had a hell of a time explaining guerrilla warfare to her father back in the 70’s.