Coupon

Coupon: (n) a discount

There is a certain madness I maintain so as not to become superior to those around me.

Without it—or minus the awareness of it—I might begin to believe that my form of insanity is preferred to the mental mayhem offered daily by others. I realize that many of the things I think, believe or prefer can be quite distasteful to my fellow-travelers.funny wisdom on words that begin with a C

Yet truthfully, realizing this does not prevent me from believing that I have captured some greater sense of balance than those around me.

I offer this preface because I do not want you to believe for one second that what I am about to share is factual, but rather, the experience of my heart.

I hate coupons.

Do not try to explain to me how beneficial they can be or how much money you can save by using them.

On occasion, I find myself at a grocery store, in line behind some man or woman who clips coupons so as to save on groceries. They rarely bring one or two—it is a stack.

So once all the prices have been tallied, the cashier has to patiently stand there, and one by one register the coupons on the machine, to deduct them from the subtotal.

And it’s not just being robbed of my personal time that brings aggravation—it is also the look of pride cast in my direction by the “couponer” which curdles my milk of human-kindness. He or she is convinced that they have found the secret to life, and they pity me, who stands there coupon-less, failing to understand the alpha and omega of shopping.

I can’t argue with their results.

I have observed people who have saved over a hundred dollars by using those little boogers.

But I always ask myself, how many hours are spent poring over circulars and newspapers in order to acquire the discount—and have they factored this in as a labor cost?

I think not.

Even though the cashier always asks me if I have coupons, I never feel intimidated, or any sense of necessity to explain why I remain a hold-out from the hold-up.

I will shop.

I will look for deals.

I will even consider something on sale that I’ve never tried before simply because it is cheap.

But when I was six years old, I stopped using scissors to cut out little pieces of paper.


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Cheap

Cheap: (adv) at or for a low price.

It is time, once and for all, to resolve the conflict between what is being cheap and what is being thrifty.

Since there were no smart people available, I have decided to take on the task.

You know you’re cheap when you really want it done for free.

You know you’re thrifty when you know it should cost money, but you’re just looking for the best deal among several pricings.

The problem with our nation is that we’re a bunch of cheap bastards. We’re not really happy unless somebody gives us something. If we have to open our wallet at all, we’re prepared to complain, no matter how reasonable the price may be.

Capitalism is a system that works on the basis of a free market, with businesses competing with one another to gain customers. If you insert cheap people in there–who want something for free–then you’ll get fakes, shams, hooligans, grifters and thieves who come in to hoodwink the selfish masses.

If somebody does something for me, they deserve something back.

I know it sounds ridiculous, but we do live in a time when the anticipation of “free stuff” has driven us to the point that the poor in our country are just as greedy as the rich.

If I go to a restaurant and a server brings me food and drink and asks me if I like the way my hamburger was prepared, that person deserves money from me. Not just from the boss. From me. He or she is serving me.

We need to stop saying, “They’re just doing their job.”

And if the server ends up not being very likable or helpful, he or she should get nothing from me.

Everybody knows that money talks. It’s what we communicate with.

So when you walk around hoping something will be free, then be prepared to be cheated.

Because even though the bar offers free snacks, they just charge more for the watered-down beer.

 

 

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Barley

Barley: (n) a hardy cereal that has coarse bristles extending from the ears. It is widely cultivated, chiefly for use in brewing and stockfeed.Dictionary B

Barley is the slum of grains.

It’s plentiful, cheap and normally gets fed to pigs and other creatures who grunt.

That’s a very important thing to understand.

Religious people who read the Good Book usually do it as an exercise in their faith–exercise in the sense that they believe that in turning the pages and mouthing the words, they have done something spiritual. They often feel no compunction to understand what they read nor dig deeper to get the context of the script of the scriptures.

So the average religious Christian will tell you that Jesus fed the 5,000 with loaves and fishes, and never understand that the bread happened to be barley.

What’s the significance?

Well, the five little barley loaves–which were probably each no bigger than a baseball–were part of a lunch for a little boy who obviously lived in poverty. Everything about his provision was small: tiny loaves, made of cheap barley, with two small fishes. (I don’t know how miniscule these fishes were, but somebody felt it was important to point out that they were dwarfed.)

Even though the Good Book tells us a miracle happened, and 5,000 men ended up munching on the expansion of this little boy’s lunch, at no time were the barley loaves changed into more expensive grain.

Everybody ate the same poor boy’s lunch.

But they ate their fill–and because the lunch was provided and people had compassion, the need was met.

Sometimes it’s difficult to figure out if people will be happy when their needs are met, or if they’re only happy if their needs are met in a specific, prosperous way.

Jesus multiplied the cheap lunch for everybody to eat. He did not improve the quality … and everybody ended up having a plentiful poor man’s supper.

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