Friday, December 17, 2004
Part of the Ten Percent
At first, I thought this was a joke. Merry Christmas!
No reader here will be surprised at any expressions of hostility toward organized religion, but do you know I sometimes watch religious shows? Yeah, I know, I'm not sure I can explain the fascination. It's like a form of masochism -- some people like getting beaten up; I watch religious programming.
The last time I tuned into the Crystal Cathedral, the guest speaker was a former Wall Street go-getter who had then written a 'best-seller' on getting rich. Those books all say the same thing but with a hook, and his hook was "tithing." Hah! According to him, regularly donating 10% of your income as a part of a financial plan would lead to an increase your wealth.
AAAUUUGGGH! but I watched, fascinated nonetheless. He and whoever it was -- Billy Graham Junior? -- are very goodlooking, charismatic, etc. etc. (I left the room before the 1-800 numbers began crawling across the screen.)
Lately, I've been obsessing about my career (peels of laughter). It is time for a change, hopefully for the better. I am attempting to Network with a capital N and concentrate on being Professional with a capital P.
I usually wear all the best Goodwill has to offer. But yesterday, I broke down and went to the mall in the middle of the workday and purchased some new threads. For me, this is like going to the dentist, like going to a shooting range, like going to church. Just shovel me into a titty bar and call me Billy-Bob! Snazzy shoes, two pairs of pants and two button-down shirts that will have to be worn tucked in. (At least all purchases were discounted 55%.)
Two occasions warrant this: A holiday party with a high-powered downtown couple this weekend, and lunch with a Veep next week. Capital N. Capital P. Maybe a slick wardrobe will distract from any nonsense that emerges from my mouth.
They will say: "I'm intrigued with your thoughts on growing corporate profits by giving 10% to the community. You must give me a call!"
And they will think: "What the hell is he talking about? But he must be right -- just look at his shiny shoes!"
No reader here will be surprised at any expressions of hostility toward organized religion, but do you know I sometimes watch religious shows? Yeah, I know, I'm not sure I can explain the fascination. It's like a form of masochism -- some people like getting beaten up; I watch religious programming.
The last time I tuned into the Crystal Cathedral, the guest speaker was a former Wall Street go-getter who had then written a 'best-seller' on getting rich. Those books all say the same thing but with a hook, and his hook was "tithing." Hah! According to him, regularly donating 10% of your income as a part of a financial plan would lead to an increase your wealth.
AAAUUUGGGH! but I watched, fascinated nonetheless. He and whoever it was -- Billy Graham Junior? -- are very goodlooking, charismatic, etc. etc. (I left the room before the 1-800 numbers began crawling across the screen.)
Lately, I've been obsessing about my career (peels of laughter). It is time for a change, hopefully for the better. I am attempting to Network with a capital N and concentrate on being Professional with a capital P.
I usually wear all the best Goodwill has to offer. But yesterday, I broke down and went to the mall in the middle of the workday and purchased some new threads. For me, this is like going to the dentist, like going to a shooting range, like going to church. Just shovel me into a titty bar and call me Billy-Bob! Snazzy shoes, two pairs of pants and two button-down shirts that will have to be worn tucked in. (At least all purchases were discounted 55%.)
Two occasions warrant this: A holiday party with a high-powered downtown couple this weekend, and lunch with a Veep next week. Capital N. Capital P. Maybe a slick wardrobe will distract from any nonsense that emerges from my mouth.
They will say: "I'm intrigued with your thoughts on growing corporate profits by giving 10% to the community. You must give me a call!"
And they will think: "What the hell is he talking about? But he must be right -- just look at his shiny shoes!"