This one was inspired by a trip to McDonald’s, where I saw little plastic pouches marked “Fancy Ketchup.” Good to know they weren’t putting any ol’ low-quality tomato pulp in plastic packets and serving it to their patrons, like Burger King would.
On a semi-related note: a long, long time ago I worked at a Skippers (a chain of fried seafood restaurants that used to be everywhere in the western United States, but now seems to be down to 14 locations). The manager would occasionally bus tables himself when it was busy (which was good). If, on the table, he found paper sugar or salt packets that were soaked with water, coffee, pop, or any other unidentified fluid, he would lay them out on a table in the back room to dry out so he could put them out for other customers to use (which was bad).
I love the mystery of this secret. It might be a cantankerous response to the previous postcard. The next mega-exhibition at the American Visionary Art Museum will be “The Great Mystery Show”. Several dozen mysterious PostSecrets will be included when it opens, however, this week is your last chance to see the current exhibit and secrets. If you have never been to the AVAM it is so worth a road-trip.
My family and I came across a picture that was hidden in my Great-Grandfathers wallet. He passed away 9 years ago. He was a solider in the Korean War and retired from the service after 20 years. The lady in the picture is not my Great- Grandmother to whom he was married to for 57 years. It has also come to light in the recent weeks, that he may have fathered a child while he was stationed in Fort Irwin.
My family and I are not sure if the woman in the picture is of his supposed child. However, there is a cryptic message written on the back of the photo that none of us can out how to go about translating it. We are unaware what language it is written in. My best friend told me to seek your help in finding out what the message is. I really hope you can help us!
I did once have a job where one of my duties was to monitor everyone in the office (an office where everyone outranked me, and was paid substantially more than me) to make sure they filed a certain report. If they didn’t complete the report, I was supposed to “get on them” about it.
Several of these people had the power to fire me.
Needless to say, they often failed to respect my authority. More than one of them responded with the helpful suggestion that I fill it out for them. When I pointed out that I didn’t have the information I would need, they tended to offer to email me the information.
One time, when I pointed out that writing the information into an email would take as much time as just filling out the form themselves, I was accused of “getting smart.”
Ever since I was in school, it has continually amazed me that teachers, parents, and employers think of being “smart” as a bad thing.
Missy and I have a sort of unofficial ritual of briefing each other on how our day was if we didn’t spend said day together. In a way, it’s like the day isn’t officially over until I’ve told her about it.
I know. That sounds nice.
Unfortunately, in practice, it means that if I have a bad day it’s not officially over until I’ve bummed her out too.
Note from Missy: Fortunately, we work in the same office space now. So those kind of days are far fewer. :)