Ooooh, Sweat Is Holy

People in Nepal were getting all hot and bothered (that’s a sweat joke, not a sex joke) over a stone idol this past weekend. Gheesh, I only went off-roading this weekend, which now seems, well, mundane (that’s a shameless shelf promotion/Carnival of the Mundane reference. Did I mention I’m hosting this Friday?). Apparently, when stone idols in Nepal begin to sweat, it’s a sign of impending doom. Wow, look how different our cultures are. When an idol sweats here, it’s usually a Wednesday night results show and they are standing next to Ryan Seacrest. Out! Sorry, had to.

What if, and I’m just going out on a limb here, someone had just washed the idol and forgot to dry a part of it? That would mean the sweat isn’t real and everyone in Nepal will be bracing for bad news that won’t be coming. Maybe that’s the best thing that could happen. Everyone will be on their best behavior in anticipation of the worst possible thing happening. Maybe it was an intentional act by the Nepalese (or Nepalian) government to get their people to act better. Granted, I have no idea how the Nepalites (just a guess) normally act, but what a great motivational tool.

I now find myself wishing that I had some tool like that at home or work. Perhaps I could convince my coworkers that when our wall of shame drips whiteout or something, it is a sign that we are about to get a horrible directive from upper management or that layoffs are coming. Then, I could come in early one morning (or maybe just pay someone else to) and apply the fortune telling whiteout to the wall. The ensuing panic would put everyone on their best behavior and the office would become a nice and peaceful place to work where everyone would speak in harmonious tones and other people would buy lunch and coffee for me. Yes, what a wonderful world it could be.

And it couldn’t come any sooner. Earlier today I told the lady I work with (who I refer to only by last name when talking to) that I was almost ready to call her by her first name, but because she gave me a hard time I was sticking with only using her last name even longer. And to drive my point home, I told her I was now going to say her last name really fast because she had become monosyllabic to me after taking her attitudinal tone with me. Now obviously this was kind of a joke, but it kind of wasn’t taken that way. Yes, we definitely need the office wall of shame to leak white out now. I guess I just can’t be on my best behavior without the fear of religious retribution, or cash.

The Nepal sweaty idol trick could also be used to my advantage at home as well. Lucy and Ethel adore their Cabbage Patch dolls. I could convince them that when their dolls cry real tears (or water from the fish tank) it is a sign that they need to behave or bad things will happen, like all of the cookies in the house will suddenly become carrots or the only channel that will work on the TV will be C-Span. No, the Speed Channel. Yes, that’s much better. The only problem with this grand scheme is that Lucy and Ethel at 4 ½ years old are far, far smarter than I could ever hope to become. Although, the one day that I could probably get this hoax to work on them would be wonderful. Maybe I can also convince them to do what I say. No, that’s just asking too much. I’d better happily stick to the Speed Channel thing. If I have to watch The Wiggles one more time, I just might take my own eyes.

Of course the sweating idol in Nepal (another great name for a rock band, by the way) could be attributed to all the rain they had over the weekend, but that’s just me. Yeah, I made that up. I have no idea what the weather was like in Nepal last weekend. Oh no, I gotta go. The Charlie Brown on my desk just coughed up syrup. I wonder what that means…a sticky situation is on the horizon perhaps.

BIG OLE FAVOR ASKING/BEGGING/REMINDER TIME: I am this Friday’s host for the Carnival of the Mundane (pronounced Carn-E-Vahl if you want to feel important). Mundane seems like a good fit for me, so I figured I’d give it a go. If you are willing to write something mundane about any aspect of summer (like Spring or Winter or sunshine or used needles on beaches or SPF numbers) on your blog Friday, please let me know and I’d be glad to link to it. Just email me and I’ll get you all the details.

What I’m really saying here is: PLEASE, PLEASE, PLEASE WRITE SOMETHING FOR ME…PLEASE, PLEASE, PLEASE. IF YOU DON’T HELP ME, I FEAR THAT AN EVIL IDOL (LIKE GREG BRADY'S TIKI GOD) WILL BE MEAN TO YOU.