Of work, work we're not afraid,
For we belong to the ladies' aid.
They're proud that they're not fearful of work. Which would make them poor candidates for a prolonged hiatus, unless you called it a retreat for renewal. Then they go off to a bunch of cabins at the camp, at which a speaker flown in from some rugged place like Montana comes in and tells them they need to work harder. But be refreshed.
Ack! I wouldn't give you a dime for the whole works, and, yes, I'm proud of my ability to discern the complete sham all this is. The rest of the world -- probably you reading this -- may go right along with the whole thing, but I don't. And I don't really know, maybe you don't either.
But ... pride. That's what we have. Ethnic groups have it, so they're out there marching in the parade with their native dress and a few cliche symbols from their heritage. Sexual orientation groups are out there marching in the parade. Flaunting it for all to see, and why not? There's no big reward in keeping it to yourself. You might say you're humble so you won't have pride. Right, sit in your little room and keep telling yourself that. You'll be sitting in your room till it falls off.
The actual fact is no one cares if you flaunt it in the parade. And no one cares if you sit in your room and playing humble. A few enemies might care, but the average family is just out there for their own little drama. And to get going as soon as it's over, hoping the line won't be too long to get a pork burger and needing to change Junior's diaper.
I've got pride right here. I've withstood the many attacks of my enemies. And I feel like marching in the parade. They ought to have a parade where everyone marches. Like we've got half the people watching the parade and half the people marching in it. Then the next year the half watching would be marching and the other half watching. Or twice a year and alternate so everyone gets a chance to march each year.
Then when you're marching, you can hold up or display whatever you're most proud of this year. Like if you bought one of those commemorative coins on TV -- one where the mold is being destroyed after the first 5,000 -- you could have it in its little case, and you're holding it, and moving it back and forth so the sun can hit it occasionally. If I did that I'd hire a couple of kids to hold a big banner in front of me, with some slogan like, "Behold The Coin."
I know what I'd be marching with this year. This big sheaf of hiatus posts from my blog. I'm printing them out and keeping the papers flat. I've got close to 50, something like that. They make a tiny pile so far, but they're growing. I've had actual enemies, friends. It does something for your pride to have actual enemies.
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