BlogFestivus: Old Weezer Ebenezer
This story is the first of a five-part series of 200-word stories for BlogFestivus, A Christmas Carol. Check out the links (at the bottom of this post) to all the participating “ghost” writers for this year’s challenge. I suspect you’re in for some dark, yet jolly, days ahead. -BD
Old Weezer Ebenezer
by Tom B. Taker
Ebenezer Scrooge, perched in his private box overlooking the pavilion, permitted himself the luxury of the barest ghost of a smile. It was as cold as the dickens but there was nothing quite like being filled with the Christmas spirit to keep the chill at bay. A wee nip in the flask didn’t hurt, either.
His eyes twinkled like Old Saint Nick himself as they caught a jerk of movement from the foreman. ‘Twas the signal that the preparations were complete. His crooked nose twitched involuntarily.
With all the dignity his aged body could summon, he slowly stood and shuffled to the podium. He nodded and the foreman whisked a tarpaulin away, revealing a grand statue of Ebenezer himself.
“With this monument,” he announced, “we celebrate a great day. At last, all of the remaining poor have been terminated.”
A muted cheer rippled lamely through the assembled throng. Fools, he thought with a snort. Moments to savor like this didn’t occur all that often.
He raised mitten-covered hands and waited for his workers to settle down. They huddled together and looked to him with their expectant faces.
“With them gone … you are the new poor.”
He grinned.
“You’re fired!”
—
Click on the links below for more takes on A Christmas Carol from our other BlogFestivus bloggers:
Linda penning at linda vernon humor
Steve from Stevil
Maria-Christina blogging at MCWhispers
Dylan of Treatment of Visions
Sarah from Parent Your Business
Dawn blogging at Lingering Visions
K8edid from k8edid
Dave bringing it at 1pointperspective
Eileen from Not The Sword But The Pen
Lindsey at RewindRevise
Kandy of Kandy Talk
Sandra writing at In Love With Words
Natalie from So I Went Undercover
Jen at Blog It or Lose It
Amelie from In the Barberry
Cee Cee blogging at Cee Cee’s Blog
Ashley from LittleWonder2
BD writing Blogdramedy
That’s Rich!
Last week my wife and I were watching CBS Sunday Morning. Mo Rocca (resplendent with fedora) was interviewing immensely rich lady, Eileen Rockefeller.
“How much money do you have?” Rocca interviewed fiercely. He wasn’t about to give in and hobnob. He was there to ask the tough questions.
“I have no idea,” Rockefeller answered. “I don’t even count.”
#Orly!!!
That’s supposed to indicate to us underlings how little she actually cares about wealth? Naturally, by this point, I was rolling around my chair expleting shoutatives. I was attempting to injure myself. Because I can afford that.
Saying you have so much money you don’t even bother to count it is supposed to somehow demonstrate how little you actually care about money?
I’ve never had so much money that I had the luxury of not counting it.
Stand back. I think I’m about to blow!
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401 Pork Belly Crude Efficient Market Theories
I’ve often talked about the “three-legged stool” on this blog. No, you don’t have to leave. This post won’t qualify for a certain tag that shall remain nameless. I’m going to keep this post on a higher, more sophisticated plane.
So often, in fact, that I should probably elevate the topic to the level of a category so you can ignore all the posts equally at the same time. But that would be convenient therefore I won’t do it.
The future is something which “occupies” my thoughts from time to time. (Yes, my brain has little protesters in it.)
To refresh your memory, the “three-legged stool” is a metaphor rolled out around the time that piece of sassafras Ida May Fuller clutched her first Social Security benefits check in her kung fu death grip. I remember it well because I was there. On the floor. Licking her ankles. Whispering hotly, “Be my sugar momma? Mommy? M to the O to the M M Y.”
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Maximum Rage
This week’s Saturday Reblog touched briefly on the minimum wage issue. In light of current events and the passing of Labor Day (that sounds about right) I wish to expound on this topic a bit more. My goal is to make a couple of points that I think are patently obvious that I haven’t quite seen before, not that I’ve looked very hard. –Ed.
The Federal minimum wage is $7.25 per hour. This minimum rate of pay became effective way back on July 24, 2009, as part of the Fair Labor Standards Act (FLSA). That was over four years ago.
Like practically all business laws in this country, the FLSA law provides plenty of exceptions and loopholes in favor of business. The standard practice is to make laws that appease the mindless masses by rendering them toothless. If the law was a ravenous tiger it wouldn’t even be able to gum anyone to death.
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G.R.U.N.T.E.
The author’s family coat of arms.
I’ve been brain doodling some thoughts. Hopefully they’ll congeal enough to make a cogent post. I highly doubt it. Ideas flit around inside my head but somehow lose their luster by the time they get translated for the rest of the world.
G.R.U.N.T. represents my latest attempt. It stands for GRand Unification Theory of Economics.
In short, the theory states that things, economically speaking, are fucked up. (Please excuse the technical jargon.) And, when things reach the state of being fucked up too well, then Bad Shit ™ may be the result. Irrationality is the term I like to use for systems that produce unexpected and undesirable results. GRUNTE predicts a period of Bad Shit heading our way.
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Labor pains for Mediocre Fred
Most people want to work. And they want just a modicum of lifestyle, dignity and respect.
Ah, Labor Day! For me it’s usually a day of conflicted duality.
Last year my old boss made us work on Labor Day. For him, it was just another opportunity to make more money for himself. Strangely enough, though, he gave himself the day off. We did all the work and, as usual, he received the bulk of the riches we made while sitting on his ass. Another capitalistic win-win!
This year I have a new boss who, even though he’s equally greedy, at least allowed us the choice to work or not. Gee, what do you think I picked? Hello three-day weekend!
My boss for the previous five years made us work every single holiday except Thanksgiving and Christmas. (Yes, we even worked Christmas Eve.) So I’m grateful that the new boss makes it optional. Even if it does mean a day without pay.
As I said goodbye to my new boss on Friday afternoon, his biggest worry was that his wife wouldn’t let him work on Monday. For him, work is an escape from home, family, children and his wife. I find that sad. Life isn’t about how many hours you can spend at the office. It’s about the quality time you share with the people you love. The boss loves money.
For me, Labor Day represents a day free from the pain of my work life. Being able to escape the bullshit – even for only one day – is a precious gift like nectar from the gods.
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Shouts from the Abyss 
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