thoughts on religion, pie, and other topics of interest
I have three stories to share today.
The other day I was driving along and stopped behind a Hummer H3 at a red light. For those of you who are unaware, the H3 is the newest of the Hummer vehicles and retails for about $30,000 MSRP. This is not a cheap car, and obviously the one I was driving behind was new (or at least, clean). But what struck me about the car was the following sticker:
"Don't let the car fool you. My treasure is in heaven."
Let's pause for a moment to analyze what this sticker is saying. The treasure in heaven is obviously something that is far more valuable than whatever the person has on earth. I've seen this bumper sticker on some old beaters, and that makes sense. I think that the idea of this sticker is to say: "I don't place a lot of value on earthly possessions, because I know that what I have waiting for me in the afterlife is WAY better than this POS car!" And it's a sentiment I can understand. At the very least, it's a comfort to the person who can't afford anything better than, say, a 1976 Pinto, that they'll have something nice to look forward to when they go up to Jesus. But try to apply that logic to a Hummer H3. Either the owner of this car has no concept of what the sticker ought to mean, or he/she interprets it differently (I don't know: perhaps the idea is that it doesn't matter that they're rich now, or that they have the ability to buy a nice car, but the REAL value is in knowing that you'll have a reward after death?). To me, the problem with this sticker is a fundamental misunderstanding of the message that the sticker tries to convey. I'm probably way too concerned over a bumper sticker, but you know, whatever.
Now, here's the pie story, in case you haven't heard it: I've decided to start selling baked goods through The Wolf Web in order to make some money during my month of unemployment. Anyway, this guy ordered a pecan pie, and I bought the supplies and made the thing. We arranged delivery for 3:00 today, Brandon wrote down the guy (Rob)'s phone number, and away we go. When we dial the number, some lady answers and says that she doesn't know about it, and where did we get this number, and her son is named Rob but she doesn't know what's going on and she'll have him call us. I went into the post office to buy some stamps, and when I get back Brandon's upset and says that someone was just screwing with us and we're not delivering the pie. The guy says he doesn't know what TWW is, he doesn't know what's going on or how we got his mom's number. So we go on over to pick up a cabinet we were buying from Craigslist, and I go on the internet on Brandon's phone to double check the number. Turns out that due to Brandon's poor handwriting, the last number of the phone number (a 1) looked like a 0. We call the correct number and get a different Rob, who totally knows what we're talking about and gives us directions to his apartment! We deliver the pie, and he has this to say about it:
"i just received my pecan pie and had a small slice and i started laughing because it was so good. it was still very warm and gooey when i got it. highly recommended; would do business with again and probably will. and they were very nice people, too, which helps me feel like my money was well spent all around."
I'm really happy that it worked out. It's just so unbelievably bizarre that we dialed a wrong number and just happened to reach a guy with the same name as the guy we were looking for.
Also, if you'd like to order any sort of baked goods (cakes, pies, cookies, etc.) let me know! I can probably figure out a way to deliver, I've mailed cookies before, so...yeah.
ETA: meredithbabb has reminded me that this was only two stories. The third one is this: My brother, who is one of the messiest people I know, apparently did so well on his bunk checks at boot camp that he's in charge of making sure his fellow recruits keep their bunks clean. WHAT HAVE YOU DONE WITH MY BROTHER, USCG??!!
The other day I was driving along and stopped behind a Hummer H3 at a red light. For those of you who are unaware, the H3 is the newest of the Hummer vehicles and retails for about $30,000 MSRP. This is not a cheap car, and obviously the one I was driving behind was new (or at least, clean). But what struck me about the car was the following sticker:
"Don't let the car fool you. My treasure is in heaven."
Let's pause for a moment to analyze what this sticker is saying. The treasure in heaven is obviously something that is far more valuable than whatever the person has on earth. I've seen this bumper sticker on some old beaters, and that makes sense. I think that the idea of this sticker is to say: "I don't place a lot of value on earthly possessions, because I know that what I have waiting for me in the afterlife is WAY better than this POS car!" And it's a sentiment I can understand. At the very least, it's a comfort to the person who can't afford anything better than, say, a 1976 Pinto, that they'll have something nice to look forward to when they go up to Jesus. But try to apply that logic to a Hummer H3. Either the owner of this car has no concept of what the sticker ought to mean, or he/she interprets it differently (I don't know: perhaps the idea is that it doesn't matter that they're rich now, or that they have the ability to buy a nice car, but the REAL value is in knowing that you'll have a reward after death?). To me, the problem with this sticker is a fundamental misunderstanding of the message that the sticker tries to convey. I'm probably way too concerned over a bumper sticker, but you know, whatever.
Now, here's the pie story, in case you haven't heard it: I've decided to start selling baked goods through The Wolf Web in order to make some money during my month of unemployment. Anyway, this guy ordered a pecan pie, and I bought the supplies and made the thing. We arranged delivery for 3:00 today, Brandon wrote down the guy (Rob)'s phone number, and away we go. When we dial the number, some lady answers and says that she doesn't know about it, and where did we get this number, and her son is named Rob but she doesn't know what's going on and she'll have him call us. I went into the post office to buy some stamps, and when I get back Brandon's upset and says that someone was just screwing with us and we're not delivering the pie. The guy says he doesn't know what TWW is, he doesn't know what's going on or how we got his mom's number. So we go on over to pick up a cabinet we were buying from Craigslist, and I go on the internet on Brandon's phone to double check the number. Turns out that due to Brandon's poor handwriting, the last number of the phone number (a 1) looked like a 0. We call the correct number and get a different Rob, who totally knows what we're talking about and gives us directions to his apartment! We deliver the pie, and he has this to say about it:
"i just received my pecan pie and had a small slice and i started laughing because it was so good. it was still very warm and gooey when i got it. highly recommended; would do business with again and probably will. and they were very nice people, too, which helps me feel like my money was well spent all around."
I'm really happy that it worked out. It's just so unbelievably bizarre that we dialed a wrong number and just happened to reach a guy with the same name as the guy we were looking for.
Also, if you'd like to order any sort of baked goods (cakes, pies, cookies, etc.) let me know! I can probably figure out a way to deliver, I've mailed cookies before, so...yeah.
ETA: meredithbabb has reminded me that this was only two stories. The third one is this: My brother, who is one of the messiest people I know, apparently did so well on his bunk checks at boot camp that he's in charge of making sure his fellow recruits keep their bunks clean. WHAT HAVE YOU DONE WITH MY BROTHER, USCG??!!