SMDH, Hoosier State! GEEZ!!!

I'm going to post a parable of sorts. You know parables...the Bible is full of them.

Well, in this parable a 500-lb man goes to church/synagogue/temple/gathering everyday that they assemble. And after every assembly, this man drives his oversized vehicle to the oversized buffet at his favorite restaurant. While gorging himself on unhealthy foods, sending his blood pressure through the roof due to clogs in his arteries, he forgets that the plate which passed before him at assembly was largely empty. When it was passed, the assembly he attends was raising funds for starving children in East Africa. And though, he had a wad of cash in his front pocket, he let the plate pass by without giving it a second thought. While he consumed massive amounts of fried food at the buffet trough, another kid in Africa starved to death.

In this parable, you might say that the 500-lb man is a glutton. You might also note that there are plenty of Scriptures about gluttony. I haven't researched it on BibleGateway.com, yet, but I'd bet there are AT LEAST AS MANY references to gluttony as there are to, say, homosexuality. Yet, I've never seen one buffet, one church or one segment of the population picketed, singled out, ridiculed or "exposed" for their sinfulness because of gluttony.

Recently, the Hoosier State, that I'm sometimes ashamed to call home, passed a law allowing businesses to discriminate. And it's not gluttons they are targeting, but homosexuals. They aren't telling the world's greatest hypocrites to take their business elsewhere. Fornicators? WELCOME! Adulterers? Come and spend your hard-earned cash. But "the gays" better just keep on walking. Apparently, that sin trumps all others. And the guy in our parable is welcomed at church and the buffet line with OPEN ARMS.

Hoosier lawmakers, I'm ashamed of you. I really am. Why must you thrust our state back into the 1950's? What gives religious people--business owners or otherwise--the right to discriminate based on ANYTHING? And if you're going to call a spade a spade, well then let's get all the fornicators, adulterers, liars and gluttons lined up and labelled, as well. I hear the Germans still have a few of those yellow stars laying around, somewhere!

"They're fast food employees."

The news is reporting that 62,000 new McEmployees are going to work under the golden arches this week. I speculate that of those numbers, about half are non-English speaking, another quarter are teens or college-aged workers and the rest are a mix of out-of-work professionals and those whose sights aren’t set that high.

This morning, my wife returned home from work after early morning visits to two 24-hour, fast food drive-thrus. It was 5 AM and all she wanted was coffee and a breakfast sandwich. Apparently, that was too much to ask.

First, she ordered a McBreakfast with coffee, but was refused service because the geniuses there decided to clean all the coffee makers—both regular brewers and McCafe machine—at the same time. None of the bright McEmployees thought to have one brewed pot on a warmer elsewhere, or to maybe do one machine at a time. Short of that, they could’ve picked a better time than the beginning of the breakfast rush, like say 2 AM. Even the bars haven’t let out by then.

Secondly, she decided to hit the drive-thru at the next door Steak-N-Shake. Upon her attempt to order the same breakfast, she was told they don’t serve breakfast until 6 AM. They were happy to make her a burger topped with an egg, but NOT a breakfast sandwich with any other meat! Oh wait, you can also order a bacon burger, so there IS breakfast meat in the restaurant.

Sooo, they are open 24 hours, but breakfast starts promptly at 6. Okay. Where’s the logic in that? Do the chickens only wake up and begin producing the eggs at 6 AM in Steak-N-Shake’s storeroom? Apparently not. Eggs are available for burgers ONLY! No egg is to touch that hot grill for ANY OTHER sandwich!

The moral of this story?

Kids, do yourself a favor, and shoot a little higher. When I was a teen looking for employment, I was afforded the opportunity to get a McJob or to make pizzas at a national pizza chain. I chose the latter. But you can do better. Go wait tables, dig a ditch or intern at a professional office somewhere. Even ditch diggers get better direction and management from their supers.

When my wife came home and explained her adventures in drive-thru ordering, I simply replied, “Honey. They’re fast food employees.”