One chap, sporting many of the signs of a would-be-proverbial, recently proclaimed, “If help is to come, it will be at the last minute.” And his less sporting voice suddenly spouted, “Well, big deal, ain’t that when needs arise anyway.”
At an impressive looking building, a sign above three separate doors announced the following lectures:
“What To Do When There’s Nothing To Be Done”;
“What To Do When Something Must Be Done”; and
“What To Do When You Know that Whatever You Do Is A Waste Of Time.”
All three doors led to the same lecture hall.
One little slightly misspelled lad loved to play reporter, and when doing so would sometimes hold a pretend microphone up to his brain, and in a low, but urgent voice say, “And now I’m going to try and speak to one of the survivors of that terrible crash…”
Being prepared for the ordinary is about the same as not BEING prepared.
Within my cosmic ear slot, I heard one guy refer, (fairly or not I cannot say), to his brother’s cultural cachet as being like-unto an undistinguished pair of boxer shorts.