Sunday, December 21, 2008

Boy Scout Syndrome.



Mug: Chinese made gift coffee cup. Gold trim along the rim, with a Cub Scouts emblem. Nice and thick. Good feel to the hand and mouth, especially for this type of mug.

Coffee:
Colombian from What's Brewing. Slightly bitter, although my lingering "systemic viral respiratory event" may be impacting my taste buds.

Note: I was a Cub Scout. I loved it. My mother was our Den Mother one year (a year she didn't have to work). I was a Boy Scout, too, but I didn't enjoy it as much, and after an assistant Scout master invited some of the other boys into his tent to watch "his snake dance", I decided Scouting wasn't for me.

But I left with the Scout Principals firmly rooted in my being. Through all my wanderings (button-down hippie, artist, state employee, graphic designer/art director, small business owner, bureaucrat), I have always returned unconsciously to the Scout Oath and Scout Law. As somebody, somewhere said, "the Law is written on our hearts."

Only in the Land of Bureaucrats has that consistently gotten me in trouble.

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