What’s wrong with us that we cannot say it like it is…? Take death. We say he has gone to his heavenly abode…like he had bought a two bedroom flat there. Passed away, like some melting traffic jam. Is no more. I like that one, no more, no more, something so final about it, no comebacks, how can you come back when you are no more. What’s its opposite? No less!! Then, there are some of us who will say, no longer with us. And if you are not smart on the uptake, you might think he has been dumped instead of being dispatched to his happy hunting ground and you may say, really, where is he working now? And the other guy, he’ll put on this sad, stretched face and say, no, no, he’s left us forever. Yes, I got that, you say, but where has he gone. Silence of the gummy sort. Gone, comes the sepulchral answer. Now, if you are still the sort of mental lowlife who misses flares on a moonless night, you go into high gear and say, better job, better prospects, what, or did he get booted out? No, no, he’s gone forevermore. The ye old flavour of ‘forevermore’ sort of rings a bell and you begin to furiously backtrack as the penny goes clinkatinkalink and drops. Oh, you say with incandescent brilliance, that forevermore. Now, if they had just said, dead, like kaput, finito, instead of all this gone for good stuff you wouldn’t have thought he was shuffling about getting his gratuity. The same sort of stuff goes on in offices. You want to dump a guy, call him in and tell him, that’s it, the party is over, go. No, we tell him we are retrenching staff because of the exigencies of the situation. Does he care a whistle in the wind about flipping exigencies (whatever it means) when you have just pulled the rug from under his feet: If the company does not do that, it finds you redundant in the new re-organisation setup. Think of how flattering that is... to be redundant, like a leftover tuna sandwich at a picnic. I cannot think of anything worse than being made redundant. I’d rather be dismissed because the boss and I don’t get along (endemic in my career, the one great constant). Some companies couch their punch in kid gloves. “We regret that despite your years of dedicated service to the company we can no longer afford to keep you on our rolls and have to inform you that as of next month we will be terminating your services. We take this opportunity to thank you for your hard work and the efforts you made on behalf of the company and wish you luck in your future endeavours.” So, if I was such a super-duper guy what’s with this goodbye stuff, didn’t I suck up enough, didn’t I laugh at all your jokes and dispatch salvos of admiration in the chief’s direction? What endeavours are you referring to, here I am up the creek without a paddle and you are talking endeavours!! We do it with failure. We don’t say, you failed. We say, you missed the bus, fell short, made a valiant attempt, it was the taking part, not the winning, at least you have the satisfaction of having tried. Who thought these ones up, I want to meet the fellow and have a few words? No one remembers who came second...it is tough enough recalling who came first. Try me. Who won the World Cup hockey title last year? Who holds the second fastest 100 metre sprint record? Which was the first James Bond movie? See what I mean. Take war. In the United States they have a great convention. If you are shot by your own side (a common occurrence in the heat of battle, also known as major snafu) they write to your folks and tell them you were a casualty by friendly fire. Friendly fire ! “Matty, dearest, our John was killed by friendlies, isn’t that a relief, the enemy never got him, that’s my boy”, Thanks sarge, that is good news. The bullet hit him, right. He’s forevermored, right. He is a carving in granite on a memorial wall, right. So what’s friendly about that?
Posted on: Sat, 15 Mar 2014 03:07:18 +0000