Earl Hickey, why have you forsaken me?
No good deed goes unpunished.
I’ve tried to live my life by that biblical truth, and it’s served me well . . .
(Voice offstage): Uhhh, Luke, that’s not in the Bible.
Me: What do you mean? Of course it is. It’s right next to the verse that says “God helps those who help themselves.” I think it’s in Leviticus somewhere.
Offstage voice: No Luke, like most things, you’re also wrong on this. There’s nothing like either of those sayings in any religious text. You fail at religion.
O
k, so maybe the whole no good deed goes unpunished isn't religious but it is important. I have to believe in karma. Television’s great philosopher Earl Hickey broke down the complicated cosmic force into a simple rule: “Do good things, good things happen to you. Do bad things, bad things happen to you.”
It sounds simple enough. If I help carry groceries for the little old lady, she’ll let me feel up her hot granddaughter in the parking lot. Because I’m married, I don’t carry groceries out to the cars of little old ladies. I care about my wife, so I don't help old ladies. What could be more simple?
I wondering about this because it seems karma has somehow managed to have gotten lost on its way to visit me for my good deeds.
A little more than three years ago, a coworker was having troubles at his apartment complex and didn’t feel comfortable leaving his wife at home while he worked nights. Chief Bossman asked me if I would work some nights to help this guy out. Being the nice guy that I am (are you reading, karma?) I agreed to do it.
Well, this guy left several months later, so logic would tell you that I don’t have to work nights anymore. Unfortunately, logic and karma aren’t on the same page and it didn’t happen. Making matters worse, I somehow started working Friday nights, the anti-holy grail (would that be a secular plate?) of shifts to work.
While friends came into town to visit and hang out the night before Georgia Southern football games, I was stuck in an office working. Once football season ended, I managed to “only” have to work Wednesday and Thursday nights, but by that time Yes Dear and I were married and she (and I) were less than pleased about my work schedule.
Finally, around the beginning of the year, due to a series of staff changes and reassignments, I was not working nights for the first time in years. My job satisfaction levels dramatically increased.
In fact, I was riding high, enjoying my job (as much as you can for not being a professional athlete.)
Then came last Friday, when karma’s evil twin visited me.
After being told that I would more than likely not have to work Friday nights, I was looking forward to high school football season for the first time since I was in high school. If I wanted to go see my alma matter play, I could. If I wanted to drive around and throw eggs on all the cars of people who went to a game, I could. The world was my oyster and I was hungry.
Unfortunately, I got a bad batch of oysters and I’m now stuck working Friday nights again. No high school football games for me. No egg throwing mischeviousness for me. Instead it’s me, an empty office and a static-filled AM radio broadcast of a high school game that rivals the latest developments in the daytime soap opera Days of Our Lives in terms of how much I care about it.
So I ask you, Earl Hickey. Where’s mine? Where’s my piece of the pie? When does this karma thing kick in?
Answer me, Earl Hickey, or have you forsaken me?
(Note: This is in no way an indicment of my boss. I like my boss. When it comes to vices, he's my enabler. You see, I have this nasty habit of eating food. I do it two, three, sometimes four times a day. It's an addiction I can't break. He keeps me employed and thereby giving me the money I need when I need a fix. This post was a rant and nothing more.)
F
antasy Update: In sticking with our “My Name is Earl” theme, Jamie Pressley hasn’t ventured down to south Georgia to see how real trailer trash lives. For whatever reason, she hasn’t taken me up on my offer to let her stay with us while she researches the role. In other fantasy news, the Fighting Squirrels are going to have to go do some charity work to get karma to help us out as we’ve managed to drop faster than something that, if dropped, would drop quickly. We went 3-12-1 in one league to fall into second place and going 7-6-1 in the other to remain outside of the playoffs looking in.
Weekend update: Worked Saturday morning, it rained Saturday afternoon so I played video games (Grand Theft Auto III is great for relieving stress and frustration). Worked Sunday morning, cleaned the house Sunday afternoon and went with Yes Dear to First Night Out for Georgia Southern students Sunday night.
Big Brother Update: I missed Sunday’s show, so I don’t have a clue what happened. Hopefully I’ll find out soon.
Until next time, take care of yourself, and each other.
I’ve tried to live my life by that biblical truth, and it’s served me well . . .
(Voice offstage): Uhhh, Luke, that’s not in the Bible.
Me: What do you mean? Of course it is. It’s right next to the verse that says “God helps those who help themselves.” I think it’s in Leviticus somewhere.
Offstage voice: No Luke, like most things, you’re also wrong on this. There’s nothing like either of those sayings in any religious text. You fail at religion.
O
k, so maybe the whole no good deed goes unpunished isn't religious but it is important. I have to believe in karma. Television’s great philosopher Earl Hickey broke down the complicated cosmic force into a simple rule: “Do good things, good things happen to you. Do bad things, bad things happen to you.”It sounds simple enough. If I help carry groceries for the little old lady, she’ll let me feel up her hot granddaughter in the parking lot. Because I’m married, I don’t carry groceries out to the cars of little old ladies. I care about my wife, so I don't help old ladies. What could be more simple?
I wondering about this because it seems karma has somehow managed to have gotten lost on its way to visit me for my good deeds.
A little more than three years ago, a coworker was having troubles at his apartment complex and didn’t feel comfortable leaving his wife at home while he worked nights. Chief Bossman asked me if I would work some nights to help this guy out. Being the nice guy that I am (are you reading, karma?) I agreed to do it.
Well, this guy left several months later, so logic would tell you that I don’t have to work nights anymore. Unfortunately, logic and karma aren’t on the same page and it didn’t happen. Making matters worse, I somehow started working Friday nights, the anti-holy grail (would that be a secular plate?) of shifts to work.
While friends came into town to visit and hang out the night before Georgia Southern football games, I was stuck in an office working. Once football season ended, I managed to “only” have to work Wednesday and Thursday nights, but by that time Yes Dear and I were married and she (and I) were less than pleased about my work schedule.
Finally, around the beginning of the year, due to a series of staff changes and reassignments, I was not working nights for the first time in years. My job satisfaction levels dramatically increased.
In fact, I was riding high, enjoying my job (as much as you can for not being a professional athlete.)
Then came last Friday, when karma’s evil twin visited me.
After being told that I would more than likely not have to work Friday nights, I was looking forward to high school football season for the first time since I was in high school. If I wanted to go see my alma matter play, I could. If I wanted to drive around and throw eggs on all the cars of people who went to a game, I could. The world was my oyster and I was hungry.
Unfortunately, I got a bad batch of oysters and I’m now stuck working Friday nights again. No high school football games for me. No egg throwing mischeviousness for me. Instead it’s me, an empty office and a static-filled AM radio broadcast of a high school game that rivals the latest developments in the daytime soap opera Days of Our Lives in terms of how much I care about it.
So I ask you, Earl Hickey. Where’s mine? Where’s my piece of the pie? When does this karma thing kick in?
Answer me, Earl Hickey, or have you forsaken me?
(Note: This is in no way an indicment of my boss. I like my boss. When it comes to vices, he's my enabler. You see, I have this nasty habit of eating food. I do it two, three, sometimes four times a day. It's an addiction I can't break. He keeps me employed and thereby giving me the money I need when I need a fix. This post was a rant and nothing more.)
F
antasy Update: In sticking with our “My Name is Earl” theme, Jamie Pressley hasn’t ventured down to south Georgia to see how real trailer trash lives. For whatever reason, she hasn’t taken me up on my offer to let her stay with us while she researches the role. In other fantasy news, the Fighting Squirrels are going to have to go do some charity work to get karma to help us out as we’ve managed to drop faster than something that, if dropped, would drop quickly. We went 3-12-1 in one league to fall into second place and going 7-6-1 in the other to remain outside of the playoffs looking in.Weekend update: Worked Saturday morning, it rained Saturday afternoon so I played video games (Grand Theft Auto III is great for relieving stress and frustration). Worked Sunday morning, cleaned the house Sunday afternoon and went with Yes Dear to First Night Out for Georgia Southern students Sunday night.
Big Brother Update: I missed Sunday’s show, so I don’t have a clue what happened. Hopefully I’ll find out soon.
Until next time, take care of yourself, and each other.
posted by Luke at 6:45 PM
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