Nabisco Loves Me the commune's Rok Finger bites one for the team
Monday, Oct. 16, 2000
It's the question I think many of
us ask over and over again... "Has my life mattered
any?" "Has my being here changed anything or
anyone?" "How has my life made the world a better
place?"
It's a series of questions that needlessly
rephrase that one first question I mentioned. But you can ask it
a million times over and maybe never really know the answer,
unless you've ever had a sitcom on ABC's "TGIF"
line-up, in which case you can be assured you've made the world a
darker and more painful place.
As for us regular joes, jacks, roks, rudys,
steves, percys, and joaquins, we have to make a list. Maybe you
do this, too--make a list of all the ways you've made the world a
better place, all the things you have going for you, all the
positive benefits your existence has brought. Maybe you make
three lists. Always asking how things are better because you're
here.
Well, maybe like you, I've made a list as
described and come up with nada. I'll be damned if I can figure
out how I've made the world better. Sure, maybe by the mere fact
I'm here the world is different, but is it better? There's a few
things I'm proud of, for sure. My two gay sons and my daughter,
who may in fact be a yeti. My love wife of thirty years, Arvelyn;
my former wife of thirty years, Wyfe. Although I have to admit my
being here probably wouldn't affect her one way or the other. But
there's other things, too, like the class in Feudalism I teach at
U Ignorant, my astonishing collection of pogs and bottlecaps, and
my 1983 biographic short film "Rok's Off." I have a few
journalism awards but I understand they only count if they're
actually presented to you, not picked up while unguarded at
company buffets.
In the end, though, does all that really matter?
The awards, the family, the class, the film critics call "an
astonishing wake-up call to cat lovers everywhere"?
Maybe not, I thought. And I was a little sadder
that day. So I dug into a box of my favorite snack cracker, the
world-famous Cheez-Its.
And there on the box was my salvation.
A modest-size banner proclaiming Cheez-Its to be
America's #1-selling brand cheese cracker. And, they plainly
stated, it wouldn't be so if it wasn't for loyal customers like
me.
Cheez-Its, old friend, you always remind me of the
good in the world. So wise and cheese-tastious.
It was I who played a part in the efforts to make
Cheez-Its the world's #1-selling brand cheese cracker. Without
brand-loyal customers like yours truly, it's very likely
Cheez-Its would never hold onto that coveted place in Americana.
So I scoff to you, naysayers, sayers of nay, that Rok Finger has
done nothing with his life.
"#1-selling brand cheese cracker"...
what do you call that? Bite hard, boys! I got yer cheese cracker
right here!
Thank you, Cheez-Its, for making me a part of your
success. Many more happy years to come.
Milestones
the commune's scratch 'n sniff look at last year's office potluck
Opportunities
Pants a Capitalist
Free Virus Baggies
Take a Kitten, Please
the commune book selections
the commune's Bear in Rearview
the commune's Big Book of Duke
Faces of the commune
the commune 100: Leaders and Revolutionaries
the commune 100: Traitors and Noodledicks
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Some may feel intimidated and back down from the pierced and tatooed larvae that pass for young people these days, but not yours truly. Nor will I.