Things that make me go "hmmm" . . .

As you become more familiar with my blogging style, you'll see that sometimes I will blog for no other reason than to get thoughts out of my head and this is one of those occasions. (Buckle your seatbelt and hang on!)

I must be getting old . . .

As much as I like to think that I'm "hip" and "with it", I must admit that I just don't understand young people today. Earlier today, I was on the bus running Saturday errands and I came across a situation where a girl looked like a boy and here male companion, well, looked like a girl. Back when I was their age (late teens) you were beginning to see long hair and "unisex" clothing . . . but, I kid you not, with these two it was really hard to tell. I hate to admit it . . . but it makes me yearn for the old days when the line between male and female - as far as hair styles and attire - wasn't quite so blurry.

Why do they need Blackberries?

 Something else that I got to thinking about in my travels today is . . . what's with all of the teenagers carrying Blackberries? I guess what I'm really wondering is how they afford them since the cheapest ones I've seen start at around $140.00 and go up from there. I mean I work and can't justify the cost of this device that is part cell phone, part computer, part MP3 player, and part camera. (If there are any teens who reads this "old man's" blog . . . feel free to help me understand.)

What's up with that?

One last thing is pinging around in my head (at least for this blog) and that is how I could have worked for the City of East Point for 14+ years and never reached a managerial or supervisory position, but yet I've worked for the Red Cross for almost seven (7) months and already hold a managerial position? I'm not sure if I've mentioned this (in previous blogs) but I work in Staffing Services (part of Disaster Services Human Resources) at the Red Cross and am in charge of the Special Projects section. Mind you I'm not complaining . . . I'm just wondering how I can work under the same supervisor for seven of my fourteen (14) years at the COEP and she never saw my potential as a manager, but yet my supervisor at the Red Cross was able to see it after just seven months. As the young people would say, "What's up with that?"

Until next time . . .