Is There A Limit To Stupidity?

By Lisa Towers  OK, it’s me W.R. Jones


    I put this drawing up because Bonnie thought I should draw old people.   I suppose she thinks I can better identify with them.  It is graphite on some kind of paper.  At the age Bonnie (and Carol) think I am, it was most likely called papyrus, stored in scroll form.

    The drawing has nothing to do with this post subject (so what’s new, eh?)

     I’m wondering if there is a theoretical limit to stupidity?   And if so, how close I’m I approaching?   Now I have done a dumb thing or two in my life but yesterday in the cafeteria I chose to demonstrate just how devastating a ripple or two in your brain wave can be.

    I  walked in past the cashier telling her jokingly there should be free refills for my can of Pepsi Max.   She said sure there is.   So I …. go directly to the soda dispensing machine.  The kind with multiple flavors where you first fill your cup (wide brimmed cup) with ice then push it against a lever to get your drink.   I pushed my can with the little hole up against a lever to get more pepsi.   I don’t know why but I figured this was a two hand operation.  I held the can with both hands this caused the lever the can was touching to press in while my left hand pushed in the neighboring lever (Root Beer I think) to go in at the same time.

    Turns out those machines dispense liquid at a far far greater rate than the Pepsi can is able to accept.   Thus Pepsi SPRAYS/SPLASHES everywhere.   Also, the hand pushing the other lever doesn’t really accept liquids all that well either.   I’m making a big mess.   Alright, this was pretty short sighted on my part, but do I stop here lesson learned?  Nope.  This is where there must have been some sort of stroke in my brain.  Instead of backing off, going home to shower and getting directly into bed, I shift slightly to the left and repeat the same sequence on the next two levers in line.  Now I’m spraying Root Beer and Lemonade.     What the devil?   There was a large contingent of customers waiting in line behind me witness to my complete competence breakdown.   At last the full scope of my idiocy came home to roost and I ceased pushing those levers of the devil.

    And me –  I’m not thirsty anymore and my hands are very sticky.

This entry was posted in Drawing, Humor, Portrait. Bookmark the permalink.

26 Responses to Is There A Limit To Stupidity?

  1. Davis says:

    My son used to intentionally mix all the flavors into one drink, but he grew out of that. I never tried with a CAN though — I think you were asking for trouble with that one.

  2. Rebecca says:

    LMAO! I always visualize well when i read your posts…You are a good story teller. Or perhaps it’s just that it’s easy to visualize you doing something so funny!! (I occasionally still mix my sodas on purpose) :)

  3. Bill, I think the painting has everything to do with this story – she looks like she’s saying, “Bless his heart, that man is NEVER gonna learn a thing, might as well shoot him now and put him out of everyone’s misery,” but not with scarcasm, just a hint of sadness and sympathy…

  4. Once again you tickled my funny bone, and this is much appreciated. I wish I’d been there to witness this senility. Did you know that kind of drink that’s a fountain mix is called a “suicide”? What’s my point? I’m not sure. Just stream of consciousness.

  5. Oh, I forgot to say how powerful this sketch is -packed with emotion.

  6. Dawn says:

    I think this is an awesome drawing. You have so TOTALLY captured her deep contemplative thought which says so much more than just an old person. The woman is so reminiscing, thinking…You see experience there..wisdom.
    Great job! seriously!!!

  7. I found your blog from Rebecca’s Smelly Rhino. Thanks for sharing this story. Things of this nature happen to all of us….I wish I could say I was immune, but I’m not.

    Great imagery in the story and the sketch is wonderful too.

  8. I think that must be one of those Murphy machines….made by the same guy who made the Laws.
    p.s. I don’t know if you can change it, but your comments all come out pale grey and I find them really hard to read.
    pps. The drawing is beautifully subtle in its transitions. I like the polka dot shirt.

  9. Nava says:

    The lady in this (incredible, by the way!!) drawing looks as if she was one of the customers standing in line to have a drink of Pepsi from the Devil’s levers. It’s the pitying look in her eyes that causes me to make this assumption.

    It really is a wonderfully sensitive drawing. You can hardly see the sticky fingerprints.

  10. wrjones says:

    Davis – I asked, and I received.

    Rebecca – I very much like your use of the word funny instead of stupid.

    Rhonda – In that regard it could be a picture of my mother thinking, “why didn’t I shoot him back then?”

    Susan, Susan, so you want to witness me being an idiot? Most would shun the opportunity if they could.

    Dawn – You have my FAVORITE comment of this post.

    Kathleen – Thanks. You really should give some thought to mentioning you have anything to to with Rebecca. She is known to run wild in the streets.

    K – Thank you. We don’t have any control over the look of the comments. Is it just your comments you are submitting or all comments? They have a small font but seem readable on my computer.

    Nava – Thank you. From now on I’m only refilling with diet stuff so I don’t get sticky.

  11. Lori says:

    Its a lovely drawing Bill, you handled the light and dark values so well.

    I can relate to your drink machine woes, you probably don’t want to mess with ATM machines.

  12. Barbara Pask says:

    You poor thing, lol. Each time my husband and I do things like that we tell each other “that’s an old person thing” because of course we are getting a bit old and we want to make the other one feel better, NOT. Love your sketch. Appreciate the laugh

  13. Jala Pfaff says:

    Yesterday I poured my coffee into my cereal bowl, and then put it into the fridge–instead of pouring it into my mug and then taking my mug to the table. And I’m not as old as you! I’m afraid of what the future will bring!

    Lovely portrait.

  14. wrjones says:

    Lori – Thanks. My understanding of ATM is that you need some money in there before they allow you to take any out. I’m thinking an ATM that lets you borrow cash placed next to a liquor store would generate some activity.

    Barbara – Everything I do now is an old person’s thing.

    Jala – You are my kind of woman. Keep it up.

  15. Anna Surface says:

    That is a gorgeous sketch in the blue hue… very expressive. I really, really like it and hope to see more.

    LOL Not thirsty anymore? I should say not! LOL Reminds me of some of my messes… like forgetting to put the coffee carafe in the coffee maker and turning it on. Thus finding the coffee carafe sitting on the counter in a puddle of steaming coffee… Oh dear… I’m getting fuddled in my older years…

  16. Carol King says:

    Clearly your mistake was not trying to use the fountain to refill a can of Pepsi. It was drinking Pepsi in the first place. At your age you should be drinking Ensure.

    I am laughing out loud at your story.

    You are a brave man to retell it to all of your blog-reading fans.

    Oh, and I love, love, love this drawing. I only wish I could draw just a little like that. Really beautiful.

    (And I was only joking about the Ensure)

  17. The matronly lady smiled as she replied, “Sure there is,” to the silly question. She casually watched as the customer returned to the soda fountain. What was to happen next she had fully expected.

    Love the picture Bill. You do have a way capturing not only the image of the old, but the spirit as well.

  18. Bonnie Luria says:

    Now Bill the accomplished artist nailed another sensitive, well drawn portrait with the skill of a draftsman with soul and heart.
    Bill the raconteur told a story that’s as visually grasped as a picture.
    Bill the engineer? Didn’t do quite as well !
    Shortcuts are really only meant for desktops.

    Still laughing…..

  19. gypsy-heart says:

    Okay..this is my most favorite of your work!! Not only is it beautifully captured her spirit. What a lovely energy she has.

    Having said that…maybe you should stick to bottled drinks. Your story reminds me of my grinding coffee beans (for my french press) in the grocery store. What to do with too many beans for the little bag? :O So I bought my own grinder now I can make a mess in privacy!!

    Thanks for sharing your art and another laugh!

  20. wrjones says:

    Anna – Thanks. Ya, I’ve done that coffee thing too on more than one occasion.

    Thanks Carol – I know you were serious about the Ensure.

    Preston – Thanks. I expect the cashier knew what was going to happen. I’ve got my attorney looking into any possible liability on her part.

    Bonnie – I am supposed to be an engineer. I really can’t explain how I got to be this incompetent. I’m going to sit done and sip on my Ensure.

    Gypsy-heart – Thank you. I did the coffee bean trick as well. Told my wife to let me handle it at the grocery store. I poured the bag of beans into the grinder then placed the bag to catch the ground beans in front of the spigot instead of under it. Started the grinder then wandered off to look for some cookies. Came back to find store employee looking at tepee shaped pile of grounds in the aisle. Whoa – he was using bad words. I pointed out my wife as the culprit so the pour guy could have someone to vent on before he had a stroke.

  21. Irene says:

    You are a wonderful writer. I so enjoyed your story.

    Trading you for one of mine:

    My daughter has taken to saying “it’s ok Mom, you’re very pretty” every time I do one of these lame things, like almost hitting a parked car because I’m distracted by a really beautiful tree. It’s become a running joke. The stupider your action the prettier you are.

    The other day I spent 20 minutes searching for my cellphone. I checked each place it might be at least four or five times. I finally gave up and walked into the kitchen. I glanced over at the backsplash (it’s smoked mirror) and almost jumped for joy. There was my phone, on my ear as I had been talking on it this whole time.

    I was gorgeous that day. :)

    Thinking I should have posted this anonymously.

  22. wrjones says:

    Irene – I don’t know what to say. Would it be a compliment to say I expect you are gorgeous everyday. I’ve done the same thing looking for my glasses only to look into a mirror and see I’m wearing them. I’m not sure but I don’t think I looked all that handsome.

  23. Susan Carlin says:

    Oh, I needed that. I laughed so hard I’m sure I cleared some cholesterol out of my arteries in the process. How a brain that can produce that WONDERFUL drawing can also be so silly is one of the mysteries of life. I love a good mystery.

  24. Dar says:

    This is a magnificent drawing which captures this pretty lady’s inward gaze. The brilliant light on her shoulder and kerchief is an effective counterpoint to that expressive face. I’m not always aware of how my eyes travel looking at art, but I was clearly transfixed by her countenance. I wanted to seek the source of light, but always returned to her face.

    I was reading Susan’s comment, and suddenly thought: Harpo Marx was a brilliant musician.

  25. Wonderful drawing and wonderful story. I never, ever thought about trying to fill up a can. See how creative you are?

  26. wrjones says:

    Susan – my brain, which appears to roll around in its container like a BB in a boxcar, IS a mystery.

    Dar – Thanks. I think I’m not going to press for infomation about Harpo Marx.

    Connie – Thanks – I like your take on the attempt. It is not idiocy, it is creative.

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