Today we’re going to cover a lot of ground, so fasten your seat belts.
1. We’ll start off with a description of “The Toughest Job in the World” and see a video of some of the 27 people crazy enough to apply for it. I’m warning you, this job is a real Mother!
2. Then, there’s a tribute to my Mom who I imagine is reading 10 Minutes of Brilliance in Heaven. I doubt she’s in Hell or Pittsburgh, because she led a good life and was never very fond of either of those places.
3. Next is a piece about having a second Mother’s Day every year. I swear it’s not a Hallmark plot. Some people think that might be a good idea, but I’m sure Jewish mothers would say, “What? You don’t love me the other 363 days?”
4. Then, there’s a piece about my hometown, Ballmer, Merlin (a k a Baltimore, Maryland). People from Baltimore called themselves “BaltiMORONS!” That’s either just plain stupid or quite possibly “truth in packaging.”
5. Next, take a short 10 Minutes of Brilliance True or False Pop Quiz.
6. And finally, there are some wonderful ironic photos I thought you’d enjoy courtesy of my friend and former college roommate, Tony Witlin, who borrowed them from some anonymous Internet writer/photographer.)
It’s a long list, so let’s start now. Thanks for the use of the hall and Remember to drive home safely.
The Toughest Job In The World Is A Real Mother!
A Boston newspaper recently ran an ad for “The Toughest Job in the World.” Over 2 1/2 million people saw the ad in a newspaper or online. Guess how many people applied for it? Only 27, and that’s in a decidedly down market. No wonder. It wasn’t the title that scared away 99.999% of the applicans. The requirements were a real killer.
Here are the some of the job requirements for an admittedly tough and possibly impossible job you might never want to apply for:
Requirements for the Toughest Job in the World
- Must be able to work 135+ hours a week, no breaks
- Ph. D. in psychology or real-life equivalent
- Crisis management skills a must
- Proficiency handling sticky situations (literally and figuratively)
- Ability to work with associates with minimal ability
- Demonstrated knowledge and experience in negotiating, counseling and culinary arts
- Unlimited patience
- Understanding of medicine, finance, social media and video games
- Valid driver’s license, CPR certification and Red Cross membership
- Positive disposition at all times
And if that weren’t enough to scare you away, The Toughest Job in the World doesn’t even pay a salary. Nada. Nothing! Although three meals a day are included (as long as YOU cook them.)
If you haven’t guessed it yet, The Toughest Job in the World is a real Mother. No really, it’s being a real mother, a job so tough and only women can handle it. Here’s some footage from some people who applied for The Toughest Job in the World.
Finally, since being a mother is the toughest job in the world, you can get some absolutely inspiring help and advice from the premier “mom coach” in the country, Mia Redrick, the Mom Strategist. Mia’s organization, Time For Mom-Me, empowers moms in every aspect of motherhood, including the often neglected facet of looking out for themselves. Mia’s advice is buried treasure that can add so much to handling the toughest and most important job in the world.
And if I forgot to mention it, Happy Mother’s Day to America’s most important natural resource!
rom a iste if you are a Mom and you’re determined to be the best Mom you can be, check out an incredible resource for mothers, Time for Mom-me
A Tribute to My Mom Who Had Three Wonderful Children. And me.
Last year, I ran my Mother’s Day blog TWO WEEKS after Mother’s Day and. boy, was my Mom pissed. But true to the spirit of my Mom, at least she ran apologized for my tardiness. She wrote,” PLEASE EXCUSE MY SON JACK’S MOTHER’S DAY BLOG FOR BEING TWO WEEKS! And she signed it, “JACK’S LATE MOTHER.”
Mom always did have a great sense of humor. Here’s a picture of my Mom with one of the part-time employees from my Dad’s department store.
I owe my Mom a lot. Besides my sense of humor, she gave me a sense of wonderment and curiosity about the world, a love of learning, and a responsibility to stand up for what’s right.
We still have regular conversations, although they’re somewhat one-sided now.
My Mom lived to be 93 and for most of those years she was full of life. She got her Masters degree when she was in her late 70s. In a wheel chair. I can’t imagine anything that would have stopped her from doing anything she wanted to do. It drove my Dad crazy. (Wife, are you listening?)
STAN: Is Goldberg going to go on and on about his mother?
HARRIET: Well, it is a blog about Mother’s Day.
STAN: Well, I’m sick and tired of hearing all this cr*p about Mothers. Hey, did you see that? I tried to say the word cr*p, dam* it, but Goldberger bleeped it out! He really s**ks.
HARRIET: Well, this is a family blog, Stan. Now, let Jack finish.
My Mom was also a bit of a rascal. Not a trouble maker, mind you, but someone who didn’t mind giving the world a little “oudgie” when it deserved it.
Here are a few stories that showcase my Mom’s desire to always keep the world on its toes.
Ever since I can remember, my Mom didn’t get along with her youngest brother, my Uncle Donald. Don’t get me wrong. She wasn’t hostile or mean to him. She often loaned him money to help him out of a jam. But she thought her brother was lazy and stupid and she had no problem letting him and the world know it.
After my Mom graduated college (at 18), she became a substitute teacher. One day she had to substitute for a history class my Uncle Donald was in. She called on Donald throughout the class, embarrassing him again and again because he hadn’t studied or done his homework (ever).
After class, my Mom wrote a note, sealed it in an envelope and told Donald to take it home to “his” Mother. If you’re following this story carefully, you’ll note my Mom and my Uncle Donald had the same mother, aka my grandmother.
Donald gave the note to his Mother, she read it and was steaming mad. There was no signature on the note, so my grandma demanded to go with Donald to school the next day to tell Donald’s teacher a thing or three. When she got to Donald’s class the next day and she saw that her daughter was standing at the front of the class.
“Berniece, did you write this note?” she asked.
“Which note?”my Mom said.
“The one that said ‘Congratulations. Your son is the dumbest person on the entire planet.‘”
“Why,” Mom said, “Do you have any more children you think would qualify?”
STAN: OK, not a bad story. But I don’t know why everyone makes such a big deal about Mother’s Day?
HARRIET: Don’t you remember good things about your Mom?
STAN: (STAN MUMBLES SOMETHING INCOHERENTLY.) Fhdignet hobad mdtedh!
HARRIET: What? What did you say?
STAN: Fhdignet hobad mothar! (AGAIN, STAN MUMBLES HIS WORDS SO THEY CAN’T BE UNDERSTOOD.)
HARRIET: You didn’t have a mother, Stan? Of course not. That’s what I’ve been telling you. You’re not real. You’re just something Jack dreamt up to make the blog more interesting,
NOW STAN’S FEELING ARE REALLY HURT. IT WAS BAD ENOUGH TO NEVER HAVE A MOTHER, BUT NOW HARRIET CONVINCED STAN HE WAS JUST A CHARACTER INVENTED TO MAKE 10 MINUTES OF BRILLIANCE MORE INTERESTING.
STAN: That’s it, Harriet! I’m outta here! I QUIT! I want off the blog. It’s obvious I’m not important to anyone here.
HARRIET: No, Stan, no. You’ve got it all wrong. You’re very important to Jack. He never writes a blog without you. To Jack, you’re practically his leading man. His hero. In fact, Stan, Jack thinks “You’re the Tops.
WITH THAT COMMENT, HARRIET BREAKS INTO SONG, SINGING COLE PORTER’S YOU’RE THE TOPS (Sing a few bars to yourself, then read on.)
What? Celebrate Another Mother’s Day. It must be a Hallmark plot!
When I first heard about ANOTHER MOTHER’S DAY, I was pretty sure it was just a plot by Hallmark Cards to get us to spend another $18.6 billion dollars celebrating Mom. But it’s actually a brilliant idea.
Another Mother’s Day is a not-for-profit organization that encourages people to honor a Mother other than their real Mother. At their site, they tell stories of how some mothers spend their entire existence just to put food on their table (Note: Mothers in Darfur don’t even have a table!)
In the largely barren land of Darfur, women must walk up to seven hours a day, three to five times a week, just to find a single tree with usable firewood. They spend more than a thousand hours just to keep their family warm. Outside the relative safety of the displacement camps, they are vulnerable to acts of violence and sexual assault. (The young girls kidnapped in Nigeria and sold into slavery comes to mind.)
The danger is so great that, in order to avoid leaving the camp, many women pay for fuel by selling some of very food they hoped to cook.
Celebrate your Mother by helping another Mother who has so little. Visit Another Mother’s Day. It’s a great way to honor another Mother.
HARRIET: Wasn’t that a touching story, Stan? You know, a mother’s love for her children is the strongest force in the Universe. It’s stronger than Hate, Greed or Power or the stupidity and arrogance of the Tea Party!
STAN: I guess so. But I still don’t see how it relates to me. I’ve never even had a Mother.
HARRIET: Well, you might one day, Stan, you never know. Maybe Jack will write your Mother into this blog.
STAN: Never happen, Harriet. Never in a million years.
HARRIET: Well see, you never know. (HARRIET WINKS AT THE READERS, LETTING THEM IN ON HER LITTLE SECRET.
Funny Story #2 about my Mom
When my middle sister, we’ll call her Rainy, because that’s her name, was 7 years old, she climbed into my crib and got her leg stuck in the slats. Rainy screamed for help and my Mom came running. “Don’t worry, Rainy, I’ll get you out.” With that, my Mom ran out of the room. A minute later she returned with Old Joe, a neighborhood handyman. Old Joe was carrying a big rusty saw.
My sister Rainy screamed, ” Mom. Mom. What’s he gonna do Mom, cut off my leg?”
My Mom replied, “Well you don’t think I was going to ruin a perfectly good crib, did you?”
My Mom: Funny Story #3
My oldest sister, JoAnn, had an engagement party in New York at my brother-in-law-to be’s apartment. Both families were equally represented and it was the first time anyone other than my sister and my soon-to-be brother-in-law ever had both families in the same room.. Throughout diner, my sister’s inlaws bragged about this book and that book..And this author and that author. This went on all evening, hardly giving anyone else a chance to talk.
My Mom was an avid reader abut didn’t feel she had to brag about it. Finally, during dessert, my Mom had a chance to speak. Rosalie, my broter-in-law to be’s mother asked my Mom, “Do you like to read?”
“No, Rosalie,” my Mom answered, “we don’t really read books in Baltimore. But we sure like to f*ck.”
Of course, my Mom, forgetting her manners for a moment, didn’t use any asterisks to express how she was feeling. My Mom was quite a character.
ALL OF A SUDDEN, OUT OF NOWHERE, THERE IS A KNOCK ON THE BLOG DOOR.
SFX: Knock. Knock.
STAN: I didn’t know blogs have doors!
HARRIET: Shut up, Stan, give Jack some creative license, please. Well, aren’t you going to get it?
SFX: Sound of a door opening
STAN: Yes, how can I help you?
STAN’S MOM: Stan.
STAN HAS NO IDEA WHO THE WOMAN IS WHO IS STANDING IN FRONT OF HIM.
STAN’S MOM: Don’t you recognize me?
STAN: Should I?
STAN’S MOM: Stan, I’m your Mother.
STAN: Right! Look lady, I don’t have a Mother.
STAN’S MOM: You do now! Jack just wrote me into the blog.
STAN’S MOUTH DROPS OPEN. HE CAN’T BELIEVE WHAT HE IS HEARING.
STAN: Are, are you sure you’re my Mom? My real Mom?
STAN’S MOM: Of course, Stan, I ought to know my own son, shouldn’t I.
STAN: B-but, how are you so sure?
STAN’S MOM: Your favorite food is crepes. You hate asparagus. And the only time you drink beer is when you’re having hard shell Maryland crabs.
STAN: Hard shell crabs?
STAN’S MOM: Yes, with Old Bay.
STAN: How do you know all that?
STAN’S MOM: I’m your Mom, Stan. Of course, I know. Look, if you don’t believe me, just look over here to the right.
STAN’S MOM POINTS TO THE SIDE OF THE BLOG, WHERE JACK HAS CLEARLY IDENTIFIED THIS NEW WOMAN IN STAN’S LIFE AS HIS MOTHER.
STAN: It’s true! You are my Mom! God, this is the happiest day in my blog life.
STAN’S MOM: Hey, Stan, how come you didn’t send me a Mother’s Day card? No card. No gift. No phone call. And when was the last time you cleaned up your room, Little Stanly? Or took a bath? Or ate your broccoli? Or visited your grandmother?
STAN IS ALL SMILES.
STAN: Listen to her. She’s only been my Mom for five minutes, and she’s already driving me crazy.
STAN’S MOM: I love you Stan.
STAN: I love you too….Mom!
Baltimore, Home Sweet Home. Sorta.
I have a “Love/Hate relationship” with Baltimore, my home town. Well, maybe it’s more of a “Love/Embarrassed By relationship.” On the one hand, I love my family and friends, that’s what makes Baltimore great for me. I also love the Os (Baltimore Orioles), the Ravens, Edgar Allen Poe, Cal Ripken, Brooks Robinson, Johnny Unitas, Edmart Deli, Linwoods and, of course, the Baltimore Colts.
But then there is the downside to hailing from Baltimore. People from Baltimore have the absolute worst name for people from Baltimore.
They’re called Baltimorons. Morons? What a moronic thing to call people. When I was young, all I knew about a moron was the joke, ” Why did the moron throw the clock out the window?” “Because he wanted to see time fly.”
It wasn’t long before I realized that a moron was somebody who was really STUPID! Someone who couldn’t figure anything out. “Back then using the term “moron” was even even worse than what people used to call the mentally ill. “Retarded.”
I apologize for using the word “Retarded” here. But hey, I am from Baltimore.
Then there’s the fact that Baltimore is South of the Mason Dixon line. (That’s right, y’all, the South). Oh, Bmore (Baltimore’s nickname) may not be Deep in the Heart of Dixie South, but as late as the 1957, there were signs on public drinking fountains in Baltimore that said, “For Whites Only” and “For Colored People.” I apologize for using the term “colored people,” but hey, I am from Baltimore.
Then there’s the way people from Baltimore talk. You know how people from England (or even Great Britain) sound so intelligent because of the way they talk. It seems so refined, doesn’t it? Well, Baltimorons sound like doofusses (a k a real jerks) because of the way they talk. They slur their words and sound unintelligent. In “Bawlmer,” they mow a lawn with a “Pauer moor,” and when they’re in trouble they call the “Poe-lease.”
My least favorite pronunciation, which you can still hear all over Bawlmer, is “Libary.” As in, they keep books in a libary.”
Libary? Libary? It’s really embarrassing to mispronounce the place where books were housed before everything went electronic.
It’s even more ironic when you know the slogan BaltiMORONS coined for their (my) hometown. Bawlmer: “The City that Reads.”
That morphed into an unofficial title, “The City that Bleeds” when Baltimore had one of the highest murder rates in the country.
It picked up the moniker, “The City that Breeds” when teenage pregnancy rates skyrocketed.
Don’t even ask me about how they go bowling in Bmore. No, really, don’t even ask!
Of course, back on the plus side, a lot of great TV productions are shot there. Like The Wire, Homicide and Norman Lear’s show, Hot l Baltimore, so named because the “e” in the word Hotel burned out on its neon sign.
But what brought all this about Bawlmer to mind was a recent NY Times mention of a less than popular TV show entitled, “The Psychotic.” Here’s the brief review from the Times on that show:
“The Psychotic.” A Danish Mass murderer is hired by a Swedish mass murderer to find out who killed his mom, who was half-Norwegian, and may have been a mass murderer herself. (And then the kicker!) Set in Baltimore, as these things usually are.”
Buy hey, who am I to pick on Baltimore. I live in New Jersey.
New Jersey? Home of mobsters, Snookie and that big bully, Chris Christie.
New Jersey? Don’t get me started.
When I die, I want to go peacefully in my sleep. Like my grandfather did. Not screaming my head off and yelling like the passengers in his car.
Best Definition Ever of a Workaholic
Workaholics are not people who work hard. Workaholics are people who replace life with the appearance of work.
From The New A B Cs of Business by Stanley Bing, Wall Street Journal
Next, Brilliant Readers True or False Pop Quiz
All right, Brilliant Readers, it’s time for a Pop Quiz. No need to take out a pencil and paper. You can do this one in your head.
1. True or False: The microwave was invented when a researcher walked by a radar tube and his ice cream melted.
ANSWER: False. The microwave was invented when a researcher walked by a radar tube and his chocolate bar melted.
2. True or False: The winter of ’32 was so cold, Niagra Falls completely froze over.
3. True or False: Winston Churchill was born in a ladies room during a dance?
ANSWER: Sorry, Winnie, it’s True.
4. True or False: Leonardo da Vinci invented a primitive hair dryer.
ANSWER: False: But Leonardo did invent scissors.
5 Times the Irony
StumbleUpon gathered a list of web pages that were so ironic, we gave our Caption Editor the afternoon off. That’s ironic in itself, since we don’t have one.
I guess he should have known he couldn’t make it, right?
It’s come to our attention that some of our Readers, while Brilliant, sometimes read 10 Minutes of Brilliance while they’re drunk, inebriated, blotto, you get the idea, so we’re offering this easy-to-fill-out Sobriety Test.
Hope you passed it instead of out.
OK, Goys and Birls, that’s it for today. Thanks for stopping by and for staying til the end. It’s because of Brilliant Readers like you that we now have over 15,000 subscribers. Stay tuned for a very special blog, soon. The next time I get another Brilliant Idea!