Mediocrity

Survived the first day of the new regime.  Fun and games abound.  Surly nurses, clueless administrators, confused managers, the full meal deal of government ineptitude on display.  Almost worth paying to watch.  Getting paid to watch and put out a little bit of work just seems like kind of a sweet deal.  But the truth of the matter is that it is like getting paid to go to a bad dinner theater. 

I will use the analogy of a now (thankfully) defunct dinner theater here in Portlandia.  Sylvia's Dinner Time Theater was where I went to please my ex-father in law.  He truly loved the place.  So I went there because he sprung for the check every time and I still was paying the "sleeping with your daughter" tax.  I can't say that Sylvia's was ever bad.  Nope.  It was never bad.  But it never quite rose to good.  Food was marginal, talent was barely adequate, acoustics were sort of OK.  Actually the concept of dinner theater is mediocre in itself.  One of my most treasured and awkward and painful memories was watching "A Salute to Sondheim" while consuming what appeared to be Costco Lasagne with bagged salad and overcooked broccoli.  Dessert was Cheesecake.  I am fairly certain the wine came out of a box.  The singers were perfectly balanced with the meal.

One of the hardest things to admit here in this mortal coil is that most things are mediocre.  The center of the normal curve is anathema to most folks.  In the old days of grading on the curve, being at the mean meant passing.  Now that the grading structure has been changed and the curve taken out of the equation so the students have a better chance of a positive self image, they now have a chance of not really being good at something they have purportedly learned and worse yet, not realizing it.

It is like a slap in the face to be told one is mediocre.  But that is where most of us lie.  We are all told now that we are special.  Few of H. Sapiens are. 

I am getting the impression more and more that the big change coming at us is the unpleasant realization by most that their skills aren't that valuable and their opinions not that valid.

I wish to take the time to thank those who do stop by.  It ain't Steinbeck, but it is who I am.