Class

Class: (adj) showing stylish excellence.

I have selected the class of my identification.

It isn’t being white. I’m too blotchy for that.

It isn’t being young. I’ve eaten too much birthday cake.

It isn’t being old. My brain and spirit refuse to make that concession.

I’m not in a class with the intelligentsia. Matter of fact, I feel silly writing the word “intelligentsia.”

I’m not in the class of the ignorant. I try to avoid ignoring things.

I simply want to possess “who I am” as simply as possible and show class. What is class?

I suppose people would give many examples of class, but my definition is: the ability to expose arrogance without hurting anyone.

Life is filled with arrogant people who think they are a class above everyone else. Being able to welcome them back into the family of humanity without infuriating them or making them defensive is called classy.

Arrogance kills the human spirit because it forbids humility. Humility is the only thing that makes us tolerable to one another.

Join me in hoping for more class in our world.

And the best way to guarantee an answer to that wish is to sport a little bit more of the stuff yourself.

 

 

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Broom

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Broom: (n) a long-handled brush of bristles or twigs used for sweeping.

I know what a broom is.

I have seen one.Dictionary B

I could even identify one at a distance.

If sent into a large room to find it, I would be successful in no time at all.

Yet I really don’t know anything about a broom.

I’ve had one thrust in my direction with belligerent orders to “help clean up.” But I’ve always been a little bit of a loss as to what the correct process is in “brooming.”

I’ve seen people take short, brusque strokes–like they were angry at the floor or infuriated with the dirt.

Then I’ve seen people take long, easy passing with the broom, sweeping up the dirt gently in front of them.

There are brooms that work sideways.

There are brooms that work up and down.

(I guess that’s it.)

But I am a little embarrassed to admit that my “broomsmanship” has been lacking, partially because I’m lazy, but mostly because when I tried to use one, a nearby competitor (normally a female) would snatch it from my hands because I was failing to be reverent.

She’d demonstrate and then hand it back to me, and rapscallion that I am, I would realize that if I could simulate an additional failure, in no time at all she would insist I was incompetent and do the job herself.

It always worked.

I’m embarrassed to share it with you.

But I must be honest–I have no great stories about “brooming”–only being able to tell you that I can identify one.

 

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