Dead Man Calling

"...If you or a loved one suffered serious injury or death," explained the commercial.

My brain immediately blocked out just which lawfirm it was, and what medicines they were pitching for Class Action Ambulance Chasing Fun, to dwell on that last bit.

In fact, my Internal English Teacher wrote the sentence on my mental chalkboard.

"If you or a loved one suffered serious injury or death."

"If you..." (erase, erase, erase) "...suffered death..."

Yep. That was it. That's the kicker!

It brought to mind rather Beetlejuician visions, where all these Recently Deceased folks are sitting in an Otherworld reception area for the offices of Dedham, Digman and Moribund waiting to collect on their death through no fault of their own in some grand post-mortum legal loophole.

"Hey, buddy-- You die due to side effects including spontaneous head implosion, bleeding from the eyes and uncontrolled samba?" one client asks the other conversationally, as he peers over a dusty, dog-eared copy of Morta Slewhart's Afterdeath Living magazine.

"Yep. But I hear Dedham, Digman and Moribund are the best in the industry. They'll get us what's coming to us. Of course, it's their 75% cut of the damages award that really kills me," says the other.

It almost makes me wish I recalled the lawfirm running the ad. Can you see it now?

"Hi, yes, I'm calling because I saw your ad? I recently suffered death while taking the drug Ixplasm, and I was wondering what you could do to help."

How much do you want to bet, they'd take down the caller's contact information without batting an eye? Name, address, doctor's name...

"And when exactly did you die, ma'am?"

"Last week. I would have contacted you sooner, but up until yesterday I was fighting sandworms. You lose your sense of time when fighting sandworms, you know."

"We hear that all the time. Now-- next of kin? Please spell the names, last name first."

Okay, I made up that last bit. ("No, really?" No-- honest. I did.) But I still think you could get pretty far into the client qualification process before they noticed that pesky little Dead Man Calling problem.

Which now has me wondering about cell phone coverage. I mean, the range for, say, Yerizin Wireless to even connect the call, well, it's got to be a lot better service than the rest of us are getting.

Santa Was a Jerk

Okay. It's finally out there. I've said it once and I'll say it again:

Santa was a jerk.

No, no, not to me. To Rudolph. And I think because of his position and influence and the potential for coal-filled stockings, we let the Fat Man's open discrimination and self-interest slide long enough.

I mean, the evidence is clear and we've all witnessed it. Santa takes one look at Rudolph's glowing nose and does he tell the other reindeer to lay off with the name-calling?

Does he use this as a teachable moment to explain how some clay stop-motion reindeer have lightbulb noses and some don't, but that we're all equal in Santa's eyes?

Does he instate an inclusive reindeer games policy?

No. He's as bad as the rest of them. He makes a mockery of Rudolph's nose. And then-- only when he realizes that the shiny schnoz could suit his own needs-- then he uses Rudolph by conning him into a high-risk flight.

No "I was wrong, Rudolph."

No "I will no longer support discriminatory practices in this workplace, Rudolph."

No "Please don't find an elf who secretly desires to be a lawyer and then sue the red knickers off me, Rudolph."

Nope. Nothing.

And Rudolph, raised in an atmosphere of ostracism and low self-esteem, totally takes it without a single, "Oh, so ya like me now, huh? Well, it's a little late for that, Nicky-boy."

No, Rudolph's just grateful for Santa's acknowledgment, the poor deer.

It's a sad, dysfunctional situation if ever I saw one, and frankly, I've totally lost respect for Mr. HoHoHo.

So this year, I'm skipping the milk and cookies for the Fat Man. Instead, I'm leaving some deer treats and this note.

Santa:

Please give these reindeer num-nums to Rudolph, and you can skip the presents for me this year. It's bad enough you're running an elf-labor sweatshop--

And you're clearly violating copyright laws by replicating toys that actual corporations hold the trademarks on and passing them off as legit--

But your Equal Opportunity policies stink, too.

So go ahead and give me coal if you dare. With the current rates on fossil fuels, I'll be making out all right.

-Jenn

I think if enough of us leave notes like this, Santa might be forced to pay attention and do something about it. Fair is fair. Let's show Mr. Naughty-or-Nice that we can't be bribed into silence anymore!

Who's with me?

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