Past Opinion Articles

Article for the week of 5/20/09


Confessions of a Dislocated Texan

Being a chicken is like getting a job in the real world
By Ezra Mann (Editor in Spoof)


During my second stint as professionally unemployed I have again been given the time to do a few things that normally would be a bit more difficult if I were toiling for a paycheck. Two of those latest ventures have been raising chickens and growing produce.
My living tributes to Peeps started out with six cute little puff balls, which were all too eager to praise me for every kind effort. I was the lord and master of their feathery domain and they ate up each bit of affectionate attention like the processed grain that came in a 50 pound bag. Then the honeymoon period ended and I became just another slave to ravenous desire and putting up with the droppings of frustration.
Now I actually enjoy caring for the little fowls, but I couldn’t help but draw a comparison between their lives and my experience in the job market. Things can seem to be so beautiful in the beginning, but turn sour quicker than the mood at a Yankees and Red Sox game.
Sure, there must exist somewhere that possibility of a decent employer/employee relationship, but getting to that point seems to garner more than a few peck wounds on the way there. Each career field has its share of people willing to step on each other to get to the top or survive. Maybe I should just start applying for my egg laying pals since they seem to live in that world 24/7.
Woe be it unto the entry level worker who stumbles into the job hen house, for they may as well have just hatched from an egg. Except in the employment market you don’t always have the doting protector and are sometimes forced to pickup lessons without any proper training at all.
Hey, don’t whimper too much for the cocks of the walk will just take your wounds and make them their personal torture device. It’s not anyone’s fault but your own that you don’t know absolutely everything when you decide to begin a career. That’s why they’d rather take on beaks with far more knowhow so they don’t have to get their claws dirty.
It’s almost like the chickens in my coop are acting out a twisted morality play of the real world and instead of bugs flying into the lamp lights, its people who actually work hard flying into the nets of the lazy and cruel. Que the Toccata and Fugue in D Minor, complete with maniacal laughter and you get the picture.
I doubt there is really anyone with real merit asking for free ride into the process, but it would be nice if someone who didn’t intend to actually contribute didn’t get something that could go to someone far more deserving. This good old boy system has got to be one of the biggest loads of mother clucking fertilizer ever to screw up what is supposed to be an honest procedure. Pluck the lot of them I say and put some fricking accountability into hiring a person.
Yet, here we are scratching for that bit of nourishment in a corrupt system that is only made worse by a government who can only throw invisible money at a problem. “Oh things will turn around this year” they say as real proof somehow continues to get lost in a sea of federally conceived lies.
Funny thing is I seem to remember a popular saying about polishing a turd that somehow only retains its fecal characteristics. Let me tell you from someone who has taken care of his fair share of animal friends, the crap only stops stinking if you keep it from piling up around you. I might just be a farmer for a living if that choice weren’t also hampered down by the same pullet squawking nonsense.

 Really Pathetic Productions 1997-2009 Menu Bar By Albatross