Old Days

Yesterday at the Shop a peculiar thing happened. We went back in time. Well, sort of anyway.

As I repaired a machine for a long time customer another voice from the past came in. He knew the guy who was already there. The three of us began talking about way back when.

Within a couple of minutes a third old hand joined us, and then a fourth. The five of us were soon talking about this and that, that guy and another whom we all knew, the advantages of this machine over a comparable one and before you knew it the old barn was once more the gathering place for local drain cleaners and plumbers which it had been, oh, in the 1970s, 80s, and 90s. One participant even remarked, "This is just like old times! This was where everyone used to gather."

It did feel like that. Sometimes you can go back.

Whatabouters

Whatabouters. I hate them.

You do too I bet. I'm talking (ahem) about those people who object to everything. No choice, no option, is legitimate or proper. Yet they object to any and all suggestions put forth.

I've been on my Parish Council at Church, involved in politics, social clubs, kids sports and what have you and they all have whatabouters. Worse, whatabouters seem to be the most common attendees at meetings for any such organizations. I guess they have nothing better to do.

If A is presented, what about B? If B, have you thought about C? They then commence to run you through the entire alphabet and more of objections. But they won't themselves to commit to anything. Something must be done, but all ideas are all wrong.

Whatabouters. I hate them. They're just a bunch of time wasters.