Thursday, December 8, 2011

What December 8th Means To Me: Great Accomplishments

Goals.  Accomplishments.  Since childhood, we Americans have had those two words drilled into our brains as the thing that defines our self worth.  Work hard, they say!  Be proud of your abilities, they claim! Because of this, we are either a motivated people, or a scared people.  A proud people, or an insecure people. Some obtain higher educational degrees, some climb the corporate ladder, some travel around the world, some get married, some paint, some become astronauts, some raise children, some set Guinness records, some run triathlons...you get the picture.
For me?  I made a big rubber band ball at work. 

Thank you, thank you. I do what I can

Dec 2011

Dec 2010


Dec 2009



Beautiful, ain't it?  And, no, there is no core to that ball other than rubber bands.  In fact, I'm insulted when someone assumes there's a golf ball or tennis ball in there, how dare they.  Do I accuse your children of cheating on tests when you tell me they get good grades?  Do I assume your 5 year old is taking performance enhancing drugs when he scored the winning goal in his soccer game?  If you want to x-ray the ball like Kim Kardashian x-rayed her ass to prove there are no implants, feel free.  Also, no, I did not buy a huge box of rubber bands to create it.  I don't spend my days just wrapping rubber bands around a ball. Do you assume I have no life?  Well, in that case, you assume correctly, but still, I don't cure boredom by creating rubber band balls.  Every day, twice a day, the work mail guys bundle the mail in numerous rubber bands, and every day I sneak to the drop off box to steal them.  So little by little, as years pass, I've created my masterpiece.  One drawback is that I've become the "rubber band guy."  If people need rubber bands, they come to me, which is annoying because if you needed paint, would you chip some off a Picasso?  Of course not.  Plus, because of its size, all my rubber bands are kinda stretched out and useless anyway.  Which is why I named the ball "your mom." 

Anyway, since this ball is the closest thing I'll probably ever have to a child, if my co-workers see me approaching the elevators with it, it's a good sign I'm never coming back. 

Ten most common comments about the ball:

1) "Wow, that's a big rubber band ball!"   (Yep.)
2) "Does it bounce?" (It's rubber, what do you think)
3) "Can I bounce it?" (Sure, but it might annoy the people on floor below us)
4) "You think?" (Yes...)
5) "Oh" (they bounce it anyway)
6) "Damn, that's a big rubber band ball" (Thanks)
7) "How long did it take you to make?" (4 years?)
8) "Cripes, that's a big rubber band ball" (I know)
9) "I hope your bosses don't see that" (Why?)
10) "Whoa, that's a big rubber band ball!"  (woo!)

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