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Chip Brown.

Boxer

I was down at the mall the other day and saw something interesting. There was this box in the middle of the floor. It had this sign that said tell your opinions to the box. It promised to record my opinion and pass it on.

Now, talking to this box isn't free, it costs a quarter. A quarter to tell someone my opinions? Good gravy, here I've been just giving them away!

I asked my wife for a quarter and she said no. She suggested I give my opinions away too much and she wasn't going to pay someone to listen to me. It was only after she caught me asking strangers for a quarter that she relented and decided to cough one up.

I learned a long time ago there was two ways to get what you want from a lady. You can butter them up, or embarrass them into giving in. My wife doesn't take to buttering up too well. I told her while she was pregnant that she didn't look too fat from behind. You'd think that was a compliment wouldn't you? Not my wife, she cried the rest of the day. I think it was the hormones.

Now anyway, my wife gave me the quarter and I set off to visit the box. What wisdom might I pay this box a quarter to listen to? Who would they pass my opinion along to? Oh the possibilities were endless!

I stood in line behind all the other rubes and listened as they voiced their thoughts. First guy talked about gas prices. the next lady talked about New York. The guy behind her gave his thoughts on the President. Gosh dang, all the good topics were already taken.

By the time I got to the box my wife was back from Penny's and was waiting. We had some sort of doctor's appointment and she was rushing me. Maybe it was that all the good topics were already taken, or the pressure I was under I don't know.

I dropped my quarter in the slot and the timer started. I stood there trying to think, the pressure was building. I could feel the sweat rolling down my forehead. What could I say to this thing that might make a difference in the world?

"Charmin toilet paper makes my butt raw!"

I know! I can't believe I said it either! It was the pressure, I've never done well under pressure. I tried playing football once and did real well until I got the ball. The kid handed me the ball and the pressure started. I didn't know what to do. Much like the other day at the mall I learned a lesson that day on the football field. Wetting your pants and crying in front of everyone makes your dad forget you're his son.

But I've been thinking. Union County needs one of those boxes! I'm going to build one! I'm going to ask the gentleman up at Dyno Discount if I can put it out in front of his store. My box will be different though. No fancy schmancy recording thing for me! No sir, I'll sit in that box all day and listen to your opinions and tell you where your thinking is faulty. You'll get a better perspective and I'll get a quarter, we'll both be happy.

But like most of my ideas I've just realized that the concept of an idiot listening to you, telling you you're wrong and taking your money has already been done. We call them politicians.

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