Tag Archives: goose

Cack

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Cack: (n) a talkative, gossiping person

I have a new favorite word!

Cack!

How perfect! Does that not describe every single gossiping soul that you have encountered in your life?

They cackle–like poultry. And this stimulated me to realize that there are three types:

There’s the duck cack:

This is the person who tears another individual’s character apart, under the guise of concern and prayerful wishes, ducking away from the responsibility of being a back-biting loser.

This is followed by the chicken cack:

“Cluck, cluck, cluck, cluck” all day long, pecking at the integrity of others, only to turn chicken and deny their involvement when confronted. They’ll even tell you who started the rumor.

And finally, there’s the goose cack:

These are people who are so sure that they’re direct emissaries from the Lord God Almighty that they’ll take their long neck and beak and unapologetically stick it up your ass–goosing you.

After all, when you speak for the heavens, you’re certainly not concerned about earthly criticism.

Here’s the question:

Can I catch myself when I become a cack?

Can I keep myself from barnyard nonsense so I have the right to live in the house with other sensible human beings?

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Booth

Booth: (n) a small temporary tent or structure at a market or a fair

Gullible.Dictionary B

It’s a word we all probably hate. No one wants to be gullible. Yet to be a human being with any sense of blooming hope, you will occasionally find yourself cast into the role of the gullible goose.

I had just recorded an album. I was very proud of it. Our music group had worked a long time to get signed with a small company which took a chance on our musical efforts.

After the initial thrill of the recording and release of the product came a chilling stillness.

It may surprise you, but the world didn’t really care that we cut an album.

So when I was told there was going to be a huge musical festival at a nearby arena, and there were still a few booths available for purchase where I could set up my albums and promote them to the tens of thousands of people filing through, I quickly counted my nickels and pennies procured from my freshly assassinated piggy bank.

I was so excited–especially when one of the promoters told me that the money I invested in the opportunity would be trebled.

The day arrived.

I dressed up according to what I thought I should look like to draw some attention–as did the rest of our group. We sat in our booth waiting to be inundated by potential fans.

But all around us were hundreds of other booths, occupied by folks who were much better known, advertised and certainly provided superior signage.

In the seven hours we sat in that booth, eighteen people stopped by. When I answered for the seventeenth time, “What is this?” I realized I had made a severe mistake.

A booth is a great place to display your wares if it’s something people really want.

And a booth is a terrible place to be if you’re offering something that no one cares about.

 

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