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| January 15, 1997 |
Circulation 32 |
Vol. 1, No. 5 |
HERD: Mentality ... that’s
what it seemed like this mornin’ ... got on the Interstate
in the middle of a dozen or more white delivery trucks
... all from the same produce company ... racin’
through the early mornin’ dark ... like a stampedin’
herd o’ elephants ... not unlike the caravans crossin’
the desert ... though obviously a touch faster ... their
precious cargo of lettuce ... tomatoes ... carrots ...
celery ... that less than two weeks ago were baskin’
in the warm California sun ... until they were unceremoniously
severed at their root ... by some migrant farm worker
... carryin’ dubious documentation ... tossed into
a trailer hooked to a tractor ... driven by El Jefé ...
rinsed ... iced ... packed in boxes ... dangerously overloaded
in some independent trucker’s trailer ... whisked
3,000 miles to the warehouse by the prisons ... where
men languish for doin’ less drugs than the driver
of the rig prob’ly did comin’ cross country
... finally loaded on the backs of the local deliverers
... to satisfy the menu selections of all the local restaurants
... some heads to be taken apart leaf by leaf ... carefully
selected to rest under a pear half ... for a gourmet luncheon
... others to be shredded indiscriminately ... to end
up in a bin at a salad bar ... tossed on a plate next
to a Chimichanga ... some might even be used to garnish
a State Dinner at the White House ... a voracious appetite
... a little healthy stuff ... I wonder if these are the
same trucks that carry the boxes of pre-fab meat? ...
that’s right ... you think all the menus are alike
because that’s how great chef’s think? ... not
on your life ... there’s a dinner factory out there
somewhere ... not unlike the guys that take all the leftover
stuff ... put it on trays ... call it a TV dinner ...
you better forget about that master chef in the kitchen
... pullin’ out a slab o’ filet ... skillfully
cuttin’ off an inch thick piece for your order ...
no siree Bob ... what you’ve got is Pete Paring pullin’
out his knife ... skillfully cuttin’ the plastic
from ‘round your perfectly formed ... weighed portion
o’ meat ... when they say 8 ounce filet on the menu
they mean it ... not a fraction more ... or less ... “portion
controlled” ... like the lettuce ... from hoof to
plate ... efficiently harvested ... (I won’t go into
any details ‘bout my meat-packin’ plant days
... for the benefit of those of you who still like to
eat the stuff) ... carefully trimmed ... cut ... weighed
... vacuum sealed in plastic ... flash frozen ... filets
... sirloins ... prime rib ... chicken Cordon Bleu ...
chicken Kiev ... the real chef works in Omaha ... Chicago
... Lubbock ... that’s why it all tastes the same
... doesn’t matter where you go ... from freezer
to you in 20 minutes ... fine food takes preparation time
... you can only thaw so much at once! ... maybe I should
start listenin’ to the radio when I drive!
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POWER: It’s really incredible
how far computers have come ... yet how subservient they
are to man’s command ... whatever we tell it to do
... it does ... with alarmin’ speed ... accuracy
... without question ... without pause ... unlike children
... it behaves perfectly ... why ... if I tell it to add
2 numbers ... in the flash of an electron ... I’ve
got the answer ... that is ... if I told it to show me
the answer ... if I tell it to record messages to disk
... it’ll do it forever ... or ‘til the disk
fills up ... if I tell it to remove the most important
files in the world ... it’ll do that too ... without
battin’ an eye ... without hesitation ... then just
as obedient ... stop workin’ because it has no more
instructions ... not that this ever happens mind you ...
we’re much too clever to let a machine get the better
of us ... not today buster! ... oh to be as perfect as
the machine!
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“If e-mail quit working for
good you might actually have to go to the office next
door and talk to somebody.” -- Mikey, Thinkin’
Too Hard
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| Mikey's Muse(tm)
is published weekdays as a commentary on stuff. Editor,
Michael T. Rusk. Copyright © 1997 by Michael T. Rusk.
Printed in the U.S.A. This publication may be distributed
freely as long as there is no charge. Commentary is loosely
based on actual events and may contain embellishments,
bits of fiction, and editorial liberties (lies) under
the guise of poetic license. All characters portrayed
in my writing are purely fictional and any resemblance
to any person, company or animal is purely unintentional.
If you don't get it, you just don't get it. Don't blame
me for anything I say and don't do anything I say, either.
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