The Toughest Job in the World Is a Real Mother!

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Today we’re going to cover a lot of ground, so fasten your seat belts. Here’s a rundown on what you can expect:
1. First up, a description of “The Toughest Job in the World” You may be under the assumption the Toughest Job in the World was held by the man who explained the Weekly Reader to former President George Bush. But even that job pales compared to the stress and aggravation of this dangerous occupation.

This Job is so tough, no man on Earth could handle it!  You’ll see n amazing video of the 27 people in America crazy enough to apply for it.

2. Next, 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 Mom led a good life and was never very fond of those places.

3. Then, there is a piece about having a second Mother’s Day every year. I swear, it’s not a plot by Hallmark Cards. If you read about this on my blog last year, you’re excused.< but don’t leave yet. Stan is about to meet his imaginary Mom.

4. Next, Stan gets a surprise visit from his imaginary Mom he never knew he had!

5. We pause for a short 10 Minutes of Brilliance True or False Pop Quiz.

6. And finally, there are some wonderfully ironic photos I thought you’d enjoy courtesy of my friend and former college roommate, Tony Witlin, who borrowed them from some anonymous Internet writers/photographers.)

1. The Toughest Job In The World Is A Real Mother!

Last Mother’s Day, a Boston newspaper ran an ad for “The Toughest Job in the World.” Over 2 1/2 million people saw the ad online or in a newspaper. Only 27 people had the stamina and courage to apply for the job

It’s no wonder so few applicants applied. The requirements were a real killer.

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)
  • Able to work with associates with minimal ability
  • Breasts, preferably milk producing
  • 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 people who applied for the job.

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If I forget to mention it, Happy Mother’s Day to Moms Everywhere, They’re America’s most valuable natural resource!

2. A Tribute to My Mom Who Had Three Wonderful Children. And me.

A few years ago, I ran my Mother’s Day blog 2 weeks AFTER Mother’s Day. Boy, was my Mom pissed. I felt her wrath all the way from Heaven.

But true to the spirit of my Mom, she took the  blame and apologized for my tardiness. She wrote,” PLEASE EXCUSE MY SON JACK FOR POSTING HIS MOTHER’S DAY BLOG TWO WEEKS LATE!

She signed it, “JACK’S LATE MOTHER.” Looks like we both were late!

My Mom always had a great sense of humor. She loved to pose in pictures with famous fictional characters. Here’s she’s with one of the part-time employees from my Dad’s store who was prone to wearing red suits.

My Mom and Santa Claus. Oh, my Mom is the one on the left.

I owe my Mom a lot. Besides my giving me my twisted sense of humor, my Mom gave me a sense of wonderment and curiosity about the world. She also had a love of learning, and taught me about the responsibility to stand up for what’s right and call out what’s wrong. It  got us both in a little trouble, but we wouldn’t have it any other way.

We still have regular conversations, although they’re somewhat one-sided now. Come to think of it, they were one-sided back then! It was just a different person talking,

My Mom lived to be 93 and for most of those years she was full of life. She got her Masters degree 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.

STAN: Why is Goldberg going to go on and on about his mother?
HARRIET: Because this Sunday is 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. And try to remember you’re just an imaginary character Jack dreamed up. Or he’ll bleep out more than your off-color language.
STAN: Off color?  It’s blue.
HARRIET: Exactly.

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. She wasn’t hostile or mean to him. She often loaned him money to help him out of a jam. and he got in more jams than Smuckers. But my Mom did think 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 didn’t know any of the answers.

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 Uncle Donald had the same mother, a k a my grandmother.

When my grandmother read the note, she was so mad, Donald thought he saw steam coming out of her head. This may just be urban legend, or perhaps a tea kettle nearby. Hard to say.

The note to my grandma said, “Congratulations. Your son is an award winner. He is the dumbest person on the planet.”

Anyway, there was no signature on the note, so my grandma grabbed Donald by one of his big, flabby ears (oh no, wait , that was Dumbo) and she dragged him to school the next morning to search out and destroy whoever wrote that damming note about her son.

When she got to Donald’s class the next day, she saw her daughter, my Mom, standing at the front of the class.

“Bernice, 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 other children you think would qualify?”

STAN: OK, not a bad story. Not as boring as most of Goldman’s stories. But I still 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 said “you didn’t have a mother?” Of course not , Stan. 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 WERE REALLY HURT. IT WAS BAD ENOUGH TO NEVER HAVE HAD 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 HIT, YOU’RE THE TOPS (If you know it, Sing a few bars to yourself, then read on.)

3. 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 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 in Darfur spend their entire existence just to put food on their family’s table (Although in the poorest of Darfur homes, a table is a luxury they don’t even have.

Darfuri women spend the greater part of their existence trying to feed their families.

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 every year just to keep their family warm. Outside the relative safety of their displacement camps, they are vulnerable to acts of violence and sexual assault. (The hundreds of 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!
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 have one 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: We’ll see, you never know. (HARRIET WINKS AT YOU READERS, LETTING YOU IN ON HER LITTLE SECRET.)

 

My Mom around 1950, with two of my three sisters, in some Leave it to Beaver type neighborhood. The little bugger in the baby carriage is me. It’s difficult to see, but I had a pen and paper in my buggy. I was working on my first blog.

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 tried to climb out of her 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? He’s not going to cut off my leg, is he?”

My Mom replied, “Well you don’t think I was going to ruin a perfectly good crib, do you?”

My Mom, the Roller Blader. She wasn’t really Roller Blading. My sister was at a park, saw my Mom near a Roller Blade outfit and it didn’t take much to convince her to put it on.

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 in-laws 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.

Now, my Mom was an avid reader, but she didn’t feel she had to brag about it. Finally, during dessert, my Mom had a chance to speak. Rosalie, my brother-in-law to be’s mother asked my Mom, “Do you like to read,” asking it as if she were talking to some country bumpkin!

“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.

Before reading the next piece, please turn out the lights in your room and hide so we can surprise Stan. Good!

4. ALL OF A SUDDEN, OUT OF NOWHERE, THERE IS A KNOCK ON THE BLOG DOOR.

SFX: Knock. Knock.
STAN: Is this a knock knock joke?
HARRIET: No, I think someone’s at the door.

STAN: I didn’t know blogs have doors!
HARRIET: Shut up, Stan, give Jack some creative license here, please. Will you just see who’s there??
SFX: Sound of a door opening
STAN: Yes, how can I help you?
STAN’S MOM: Stan.
STAN: Yes?

STAN HAS NO IDEA THAT THE WOMAN STANDING IN FRONT OF HIM IS HIS MOTHER!

STAN’S MOM: Don’t you recognize me, son?
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? (THE WORDS ALMOST GET CAUGHT IN STAN”S THROAT.)
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 steak. You hate asparagus and Lima Beans. And the only time you drink beer is when you’re having hard shell 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 Mother, Stan. Of course, I know everything about you. It’s in my job description.  Look, if you don’t believe me, just look over here to the right.
STAN’S MOM POINTS TO THE LEFT 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: Stan, how come you didn’t send me a Mother’s Day card? No card. No chocolates. No roses, No phone call. And when was the last time you cleaned up your room, Little Stanley? 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 already she’s driving me crazy.
STAN’S MOM: I love you, Stan.
STAN: I love you too….Mom.

And now we pause for a moment of peace and wisdom!

“When I die, I want to go peacefully in my sleep.
Like my grandfather did.
Not screaming my head off like the passengers in his car.

5. Next, Brilliant Readers, A 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. Really!

2. True or False: The winter of ’32 was so cold, Niagara Falls completely froze over.

ANSWER: True.

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 he did invent scissors.

6. Irorny run amuck.

StumbleUpon gathered a list of web pages that were so ironic, we gave our Captions Editor the afternoon off. Then we wrote our own captions, anyway. That’s ironic, in itself, since we don’t have a Captions Editor.

nothing written in stone

OK, some things are written in stone.

english

Not sure this would be the guy to teach you English

psychicI guess he should have known he couldn’t make it, right?

Carbon foot print books

Well, they did say it was for idiots?

Hey, I is no English major, but something's wrong here.

Hey, I is no English major, but something’s wrong here.

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.

10247506_276566222518321_3637967714339812067_nDamn, he was so close to getting it right.

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 20,000 subscribers and 40,000 monthly visitors. Stay tuned for a very special blog, soon. The next time I get another Brilliant Idea!

This is your bloggist, er, blogger, oh what the Hell, it’s me saying goodbye. Good night. And drive safely.  Jack

 And Now a few words from our sponsor, Me.

If you actually got to the end of the blog, then thank you so much. You’re obviously a homicidal maniac or a very loyal follower,

I have a favor to ask. I’m a finalist in “The Rule Breaker Awards. And I’d love to win a trip to New Orleans in July

I hate to ask, but would you mind voting for me in the contest.

1.  Just go to: bit.ly/1KSxCWR
2. Type Jack Goldenberg in the search box.
3. Click Search Entries and my name will come up.4. Vote for me, Save or confirm it.

If you voted for me, let me know and I’ll send you a postcard from New Orleans (if I win!)

Simple. Really, do it now as a favor and I’ll remember I owe you one. Thanks.

Time to Go. Tell you Mom I said hi.  Jack

 

 

 

 

 

 

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