Wednesday, September 16, 2015

How Should I Respond to the Portmanteau Exclamation of Millennials " Perfect" ?


" Get off the Bench, Gramps"  Old man moves -" Perfect!"
plural noun: millennials; plural noun: Millennials
a person reaching young adulthood around the year 2000; a Generation Yer.
"the industry brims with theories on what makes millennials tick"
Per Fect - per- ‘through, completely’ + facere ‘do; rhymes with #$%^ You.

I spent a very busy day doing parking lot duties for the Stanley Cup visit to Leo High School on September 15, 2015.

The Champion Blackhawks organization and Star Defenseman Brent Seabrook were coming to our inner-city (Gresham) Catholic high school for young men and the school invited 300 or more guests.

Our parking lots fill up quickly and we had planned to place students and faculty in the tighter quarters, because our guests would be leaving before  the actual school community.  There is nothing so frustrating as attending a special event and being blocked in by persons who believe that they come first in all things.

I kept one lot locked ( supposedly until a 10 AM opening bell) and directed neighbors, faculty, staff, school vehicles and students to the tightest of squeezable spaces.

Want to hear God laugh?  Tell Him your plans.

I am a man of limited talents, capabilities and sense of humor; until an event like this takes place and soon., because of my ancient work ethic and Catholic sense of guilt, become THE INDESPENSABLE MAN.

" Mr. Hickey, where is the camera Tripod?"

The Tripod is with camera (attached at 7:45 AM) and placed exactly where you and I set it up in the Auditorium

"Mr. Hickey, have you seen Mr. _____?

Many times.

"Tell him, Bill Gates is not coming."

"Mr. Hickey, where are the traffic cones?"

" Mr. Hickey, call Six (CPD Gresham) and ask them for traffic cones"

" Mr. Hickey, find the six boys who are supposed help make signs for Mr. ________"

Lah Dee Dah to the second power.  That is what a job is all about and only suckers beef.  Just sayin' as the young folks are wont to say.

Now, each question or command required that I trot my husky 64 year old frame from one side of 79th Street to the other, as persons tend to shout inquiries from great distances and avoid a physical strain like walking up to another person, prior to inquiry.

My humor was tested early when a crew of very talented young people ( MillennialsAll) appeared on scene three hours prior to their expected arrival ( 10AM) and offered -" I'm with THE AGENCY why is the gate locked?"

The gate is locked for the convenience of THE AGENCY so as no one would take up the spaces provided ( four in total).

" Dude, I have a lot of stuff here; do me a solid."


" Perfect!"

Perfect is the subject of this somewhat rambling narrative.

By the time of the planned 10AM gate opening for the controlled West Lot I had crossed 79th Street no less than ten times and opened and relocked said Gate for the eight vehicles driven by the very talented young men and women of THE AGENCY.  Four spaces and eight vehicles, perfect!

More so, I had been told PERFECT by each and every member of THE AGENCY no less than twenty times.

 Perfect is nice but ever so rarely achieved and did not strike me as a fitting response to my nodding approval to do exactly what a Millennial asked of me, despite the protocol, or planned outcome.

I sensed that PERFECT actually meant " #$%^ You, Gramps, I got mine!"

I wonder.

Random, I guess.

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