If Board Games Had Advertisements

I got hooked on Words With Friends for a while, but now I go weeks between plays.  The advertisements annoy me.  Does everything need to be interrupted by them?  When we play board games we don't need to be subjected to this nonsense.  But what if we were? For fun, I composed a script to capture just that scenario.

SCENE -                Exterior, Mazy’s home.  Mazy is sitting at a patio table near her driveway.

JANE                      Hi Mazy

MAZY                    Hey Jane.  What have you got?

JANE                      I went to the store today and they were giving away free games of Scrabble.

MAZY                    Free?  Really?

JANE                      Yeah.  I guess there are some advertisements in it but other than that, it was a free game.

MAZY                    Oh that’s cool.  Do you want to play?

JANE                      Sure!

Jane and Mazy open the box of Scrabble and set up a game.  Improvise dialogue: How many game pieces? Who goes first? Do you play where you can just add an “s”?  Do you have a dictionary in case we challenge?  Do you accept slang?  Who wants to keep score? Etc.

MAZY                    (Plays the word  DOG) OK, you’re turn.

Enter a dog, wearing a sign that says: “Like dogs?  Click here for great savings on dog supplies!”

MAZY                    What is that?

JANE                      (Turns to look) Oh, it must be one of the ads.

MAZY                    Oh.  Well, I don't have a dog and I’m not interested in shopping for dog toys.

JANE                      Right.  (To DOG) Go on, get!  (DOG leaves) Alright, my turn.  (Jane plays the word TRAVELED. Enter a man wearing a safari outfit and a necklace with a large emblem that hangs near his chest.)

SAFARI MAN      Enjoy traveling?  Click here (indicates to emblem) for great travel destinations.

MAZY                    I can’t afford any trips right now.

SAFARI MAN      Compare and save rates on flight, hotels, car rentals and nightlife!

MAZY                    Can you leave us alone please?  We just want to play a game of Scrabble.  (SAFARI MAN leaves)

JANE                      Your turn, Mazy.

MAZY                    OK.  Let’s see… (Mazy plays the word WEIGHT)

Loud hip hop music begins to play and rapidly crescendos to an unbearable volume.   

JANE                      (Yelling over music) What the Hell is that?

MAZY                    (Yelling) I think it’s another one of the ads.

Enter muscular man in workout clothes.  He is carrying a boom-box and is wearing a wide black and sequined champion belt with a large button.

MUSCLE MAN   Click here to get into the best shape of your life! (Gestures toward button on belt)

JANE & MAZY                    NO!

MUSCLE MAN looks disappointed, then, with restored confidence, flexes a variety of muscles hoping to change the girls’ minds.

JANE                      We’re just trying to play a game here, would you leave us alone?  (MUSCLE MAN leaves)

MAZY                    These ads are a little annoying, Jane.

JANE                      Well, it’s a free game.  I guess they’ve got to make their money somehow.

MAZY                    I think they made their money back already.  Do the ads ever stop?

JANE                      I don’t know.  They’re not so bad.  I know they’re annoying but they don’t last long.  Let’s just keeping playing.  Whose turn?

MAZY                    (Looks at board) Your turn

JANE                      (Plays the word SINGLE)

Enter a gorgeous young woman scantily dressed with impressive cleavage.

WOMAN              Are you single?

JANE                      I’m married (flashes wedding band)

MAZY                    I’m dating someone.

WOMAN              (To neither in particular) Do you want to flirt?

MAZY                    Not with a woman.

JANE                      No.

WOMAN              Click here (points to the center of her ample bosom) to talk to sexy hot singles in your area.

JANE                      Please go away.  (WOMAN leaves)

MAZY plays the word FEVER and WOMAN returns.

WOMAN              Are you single?

MAZY                    Weren’t you just here?

WOMAN              Do you want to flirt?

MAZY                    Go away already!

WOMAN              Click here (points to her crotch) to talk to sexy hot singles in your area.

JANE                      I’m going to throw this dictionary at you if you don’t leave now.

WOMAN scampers away

MAZY                    Who uses ads to flirt anyway?

JANE                      I don’t know.  It must be like the personals or phone sex. My turn.  (Plays the word GAME)

Enter businessman in pale blue suit with a yellow striped tie.  He is carrying a stack of board games.

BUSINESSMAN Do you enjoy Scrabble? Try other games by Milton Bradley!  (BUSINESSMAN continues his spiel, but MAZY and JANE pretend to ignore him.  Adlib).  We have games to challenge intellect, pit yourselves against your friends, or simply to offer a night of hilarity.  Whatever your interest, Milton Bradley games are perfect for people of all ages.

MAZY                    I’m not going to play anymore games by Milton Bradley if they have as many annoying ads between plays.

JANE                      I’m thinking I should have just bought the game.  This is ridiculous.  

MAZY                    I wish we could just play a game without them.  It really disrupts the fun.

BUSINESSMAN has finished talking and is staring blankly at JANE & MAZY

JANE                      You can go now.  (BUSINESSMAN leaves)

MAZY                    I don’t even know whose turn it is anymore.

JANE                      It’s your turn.  I just played ‘game’.

MAZY                    OK.  Right.  (Plays the word HERBS)

Enter a thin 30-something brunette wearing a white apron and holding grilling utensils.

CHEF            Looking for the best way to flavor up your meat?

JANE & MAZY                    NO!

JANE                      (To Mazy) Barbeque ads now?  What's the point?  Are we really expected to stop our game to shop?  If we wanted to shop we'd be shopping, not playing a board game. Seriously.  (At CHEF) Go away.  (CHEF leaves.  JANE plays the word BODY.)

MAZY                    Look who’s back.

Enter WOMAN.

WOMAN              Are you single?  (Holds hand up to her face in protective gesture.  MAZY & JANE stare at her incredulously.  WOMAN, not being interrupted, smiles widely, hops a bit in excitement and continues.)

WOMAN              Do you want to flirt?  (MAZY & JANE remain silent.  Confidence increases in WOMAN and she continues).

WOMAN              Click here (grabs her chest and squeezes tightly) to talk to sexy hot singles in your area.  (She blows a kiss and smiles stupidly.  A stylish car pulls into the driveway and out pops an attractive young man.)

YOUNG MAN     Check out great deals for the new Honda Accord!

JANE                      Do you want to go for a walk instead?

MAZY                    Yeah

MAZY & JANE get up to leave.  They walk past WOMAN who is still holding onto her cleavage, her spirit begins to dampen.  As JANE and MAZY exit the frame, the young man approaches woman. 

YOUNG MAN     Hey

WOMAN              Hi.  (She squeezes breasts a little tighter).  Wanna flirt?

YOUNG MAN and WOMAN kiss and collapse on the hood of the car kissing and groping.  Camera zooms out and up.  JANE AND MAZY walk away from the scene.  DOG, MUSCLEMAN, CHEF and BUSINESSMAN all walk back onto the scene and intermingle.  Fade to black.

The 3 Worst Results You Get from Search Engines

Sometimes, when I seek answers, I consult the internet.  We all have. There's the perception that online searches are convenient because the entire world, and all its information, is available at the "tips of our fingers" and at the "click of a mouse".  But it isn't always.  There are three search results that I typically see which are ultimately of no help whatsoever and I wish would just go away.

Worst search result # 1 - Links with links

At least this 404 Error page is funny
found on www.501st.com/

Talk about redundancy.  After entering in the right keyword and perhaps exploring several of the results, I find a link that looks promising so I click it.  Rather than arriving at a genuine website, I'm navigated to a page that provides an endless list of links.  Really?  Yeah that's what I want for my search results - more search results.  Listen, I can't spend all day clicking links.  I click a link because I want an answer - NOT more links to click. 

Look at it this way.  Pretend you have a map but get lost anyway, so you ask for help.  Instead of clarifying directions, the good Samaritan says: "maybe these will help" and hands you more maps.  This is what it's like when you get a page of links.  Oh, and it's even worse when the links on those pages just navigate me to a 404 Not Found Error.  I might as well be given directions through the construction route where all the streets are closed.

Worst search result # 2 - Keywords are in the meta description but not on the linking page

WTF?  Last summer I was hosting a barbeque and wanted to set up some fun water activities for my guests' kids.  So I searched "outdoor water activities for kids 6 to 12".  The immediate results yielded activities appropriate for beaches, pools or camps.  Because none of those were applicable to my situation I had to eliminate those phrases.  My new keyword search became: "outdoor water activities for kids 6 to 12 -beach -pool -camp".  I saw a result with this meta description:

Where's the content your meta
description said you had?

"Whether you're trying to get kids to burn off some steam, learn something new, or both, ... Fun Games for Children 7 to 12 · Fun Indoor Games for Kids 6 - 12 ... for Kids · Fun Outdoor Water Activities for Kids · Fun Outdoor Fall Activities for Kids ..."

Awesome.  I clicked on the link but I didn't see any water activities.  HUH?  In fact, I did a CTRL+F search to just find the word "water" anywhere on the page.  Nothing.  Why was I even routed here?! 

 

Worst search result # 3 - Online forums

 

Online forums have absolutely got to be the worst thing ever.  First of all, it's a lousy substitute for customer service.  Secondly, no there is no secondly, that's it.  Online forums are designed to be led by dissatisfied and frustrated customers in the hopes that their experiences will resolve the questions and concerns of their peers.  What kind of asinine logic is this?  It’s a case of the blind leading the blind.  I am especially irritated when I click on: “Questions? Contact us here” and am navigated to an FAQ page.  Yeah, FA-Q, too.  Then after that, when I don’t find my particular situation, I click on: "Still can't find what you're looking for?" and I’m taken to the online forum.
  

 
Sample Online Forum Discussion 

"The lock to my Suzuki SX4 is inoperable.  I click the button on my key chain clicker and my door but it won't unlock.  There is no key entry built on the hatch.  Has anyone else had this experience?  What was the cause of this issue and how was it fixed?"

• "Yeah I've got the same problem.  No one's been able to help."
• "Had my mechanic look at it.  Had to jerry-rig it to get it to work."
• "Something similar happened with my Dodge, but I hit a massive frost heave one day and it fixed itself."
• "*~*~*~*Subscribe to My YouTube Channel!*~*~*~*"
• "Have you tried to use the key entry on the hatch?"

Umm...none of these responses helped me.  Clearly didn't help - so, why post the comment?  I've yet to find an online forum that's truly a help.  Like I said, they are the worst. 

If search engines truly understood my search strategy they would omit these results altogether.  But they don't, so I have to work around them.  I find it ironic, though, that the more search engines are amended to make the online searches a more easy, convenient and user-friendly experience, the more frustrating the whole thing seems to become.  What do you think?

Today I was Called 'Sir'

Today I was called 'sir'.

First, let me say that I have a complex about my appearance.  Although I have feminine features, I grew up constantly being told I look like my dad.  Sure, my father is handsome, but as a little girl I didn't appreciate my appearance being likened to a grown man.

One time, I showed a picture of my father, age twelve, to my niece and nephew.  I asked them who they thought was in the picture.

"That's you. Auntie, when you were a little girl."

"No," I replied laughing.  "It's Grampy when he was a little boy."

They laughed, too.  "Wow, you look like Grampy!"

I knew.  I know.  I look like a man because I look like my father.  To offset this, I've always tried to be girlie.  I put barrettes in my hair, I wear make-up everyday and I prefer skirts over pants.

A couple years ago, I was cast as Mr. Mushnik in Little Shop of Horrors.  I had originally intended to play the role as Mrs. Mushnik, and prepared my character to be a cougar, intent on coercing Seymour into partnership through more seductive means. After a few weeks, the director decided he wanted me to play a man after all.  I was hesitant at first, but then decided to embrace the reverse sex role.  I practiced my voice, my posture, my gestures and even developed my "man face".

I nailed it.  Some of the stage crew who showed up mid-production didn't realize I was a woman until they saw me half-dressed in the green room.  The audience was dumbfounded I was actually a woman when I revealed my sex as we mingled post-performance.  Even my husband, the love of my life, thought that when my character came on stage that it was just "some guy" before he realized - Good God!  That's my wife!

To make matters worse, the time it takes for me to transform into a man is less than 10 minutes.  I don't know which is worse - that I can convincingly look like a man, or that I can convincingly look like a man in such a short amount of time.

This brings me back to today, when I was called "sir".

I wanted to buy a soda, something I don't have very often, and usually give in to when I have a craving.  I stopped into a gas station and retrieved a Diet Pepsi from the cooler then approached the counter with my item.  The temperature outside was nearly 40 degrees, not bad for early December, so I felt I could get away with wearing my down-filled white vest with faux fur trim instead of a bulky winter jacket.  Because the turtleneck I was wearing was purple, I selected purple eyeshadow for my make-up that morning. The young man at the counter scanned my soda and asked: "Is that all today, sir?"

Sir?  I turned around.  He must have been talking to a man behind me who just wanted to put $20 into his tank.  There was no one there.  Slowly returning my gaze back to the cashier I asked him with confusion:"Sir?"

He cleared his throat: "Is that all today?"

"Yeah," I answered quietly.  He told me the total and I fished around in my purse (purple as well) for the exact change.  I was replaying his question in my head.  Had I misheard him?  Which word could I have misconstrued for sir?  Was he just being a jerk?  Did he misspeak and hoped to correct himself nonchalantly?  The puzzled look on my face was inevitably too much for him to bear and he confessed the situation.

"People hardly ever listen to what I say.  I ask them: 'How are you today?' and they answer: 'That's all, thanks.'  So I just started saying nonsense to see who was paying attention.  I saw the confusion on your face and thought, Oops!  She's paying attention!  Better be careful what I say."

I laughed, relieved.  He didn't think I looked like a man after all.  He was simply doing an experiment in attentiveness.

As I left the store I began thinking more deeply about this.  We encounter so many people in our lives but because we are preoccupied with work, family, illness, finances, appearances, we loose sight of them even though are standing right in front of us.  That clerk was not a member of my family, nor was he an old acquaintance; he was some guy who worked at a gas station.  And I was just another person coming in to buy a soda.  We could have had a simple transactional exchange: without friendliness and without ever acknowledging each other, too wrapped up in our own interests to care about the person with whom we are interacting.

Mother Theresa is quoted saying: "Spread love everywhere you go. Let no one ever come to you without leaving happier."

That is the person I want to be.  The friendly customer, the kind coworker, the thoughtful friend and the loving aunt and wife.  I want to be the positive energy that makes people feel better about themselves and feel better about their lives, if even for a moment.  I think if we all take a moment to put down the phone, look someone in the eye, genuinely smile and have even the simplest of conversation it will offer warm sunlight into their day and ours. 

Today I was called 'sir', and because of it, I was made aware of the disconnect I have with people.  It made me feel more self-conscious than looking like a man.

Ladies - Stop Using Your Foot to Flush

Don't be an ass - use your hand to flush.

Lately I've noticed women flushing the toilet with their feet.  I see one foot lift, hear the swirl of the bowl, then watch that foot settle back into place.  What's more, they dispense the paper towels before washing their hands so they don't have to touch the handle post hand wash. They then use their damp paper towel to turn the faucet off and open the door to the bathroom to make their escape from the apparent diseased bathroom.

This germ-phobic nonsense has to stop.

You know what's gross?  That I flush a toilet whose handle has been manipulated by the bottom of your scuzzy shoe.  The bottom of your shoe has a cornucopia of germs, much more than the hand you used to wipe does.  And brace yourselves girls - you expose your hands to just as many germs when you open the stall door. 

BOOM!  I just blew your efforts out of the water!  You aren't unlocking the stall and opening the door with your feet, right?  Chew on that for a minute.  I wipe myself - flush the toilet with handle of pestilence, and then open the door.  Yeah, that same door you open.  With your hands.  In fact, there are plenty of things you touch every day that have more germs than toilets, including your cell phones.

Save me from the germs!

Let's be realistic - what does it matter if you touch the handle of the toilet when you're going to be washing your hands in 10 seconds anyway?!  Do you think some brain-eating amoeba will absorb into your skin and kill you?

Consider this as well: your phobia of germs spreads more germs for others.  Because you feel it's necessary to dispense the paper towels before you wash your hands the knob of the paper towel dispenser now has germs it wouldn't see at all if you had washed your hands first.  Bitch.

At the end of the day, your obsession to be germ-free spreads the germs a little more for everyone else.  So stop flushing the toilet with your foot.

I Long for the Yesteryears I Never Experienced

I'm watching the Andy Griffith show.  I'm also halfway through a bottle of wine.  I don't know if they are related.  Anyway, as I watch this show, I think how ridiculously wholesome it is.  Was life in the 50's really this innocent, or was it exacerbated through the TV world?  It's like today's TV programming, but paradoxically it's completely the opposite.

"Too much wine, tipsy Miss Alyson?" you might be wondering.  No, please allow me to explain.

We exploit common behaviors on TV, but these behaviors might not be a genuine reflection of our culture.  I recall traveling in Up With People back in 1998 and in staying with some host families in Sweden, they asked me about the authenticity of The Jerry Springer Show. 

"Is everyone in America like this?" I was asked.

"No," I'd reply with my head hanging low.  What miserable ambassadors these people were to my culture.

Sadly, there is some truth to the people on The Jerry Springer Show, and to anyone, really, on reality TV.  There are a lot of white-trash, smack-talking, uneducated, low moral people in our country.  Sadly, still, people want to emulate them.  Why? Because their behavior is rewarded.  I suppose I could act like a smart-ass, over-sexed, ignorant catty bitch and make lots of money by acquiring my own TV show, but is this the type of character for which I want to be known?  NO!  I want people to reflect on my time on this earth and think back on me as a respectful, kind, thoughtful, giving, loving and intelligent individual.  Making a quick buck by selling oneself out is no different than prostitution in my book.

Back to Andy Griffith.  Were the people of his era genuinely that wholesome, or was it an exaggeration of the way most people were known to be?  I was born in 1979, and I feel the generations in which I've lived have been one debacle after the other.  I wish I were a wife of the 1950's.  I could be a stay-at-home wife, cooking, cleaning, knitting, sewing, gardening, reading, walking the dog and feeding the wood stove.  I'd have a warm meal and a cold drink ready for Matt when he got home from a hard day's work.  I would volunteer at the library or at church, I'd have shallow friendships at the salon, and see my family and girlfriends as often as I like.  But I live in 2013.  An undefined, rat-raced era filled with people dizzy by overstimulating media and the insatiable urge to have their every immediate desire fulfilled.

Furthermore, if people really do emulate those on TV, if trashy reality TV shows were banned and replaced with wholesome characters with good morals, would the face of our society change?  Media is very influential, and TV plays a major role in this.  This is why I blame Mary Tyler Moore for destroying the housewifely lifestyle that I should be living.  More on that later.

It's time to pour another glass of wine.  I'd love to know your thoughts.

The Best Interview Ever

I don't want to cause confusion.  This blog isn't about the best interview I ever gave, it's the best interview I ever conducted.  And it isn't because the interviewee was stellar and impressive, it was because of the sheer irony of the interview.  Here's how it went down:

I used to work as a secretary for a hardwood flooring store.  It was a pretty good gig, except for the solidarity but when we ran ads for flooring installers there was plenty of foot traffic.  Although experience was preferred it wasn't necessary.  I would stress this to the applicants, saying it was easier to train installers to our level of standard when there was no preexisting experience, but they always wanted to illustrate that they had competency.  Most of the time they would say they had worked in a construction environment - fine.

"So no flooring experience then?" I would say to clarify to them that their experience and floor installation weren't actually the same thing.

After the applicants completed the application, and if the application was legible and intelligible (there was once a man who misspelled his hometown), I would conduct a preliminary interview.  This one time when we ran a help wanted ad, someone stopped in to apply.  The process was the same as it always had been: he completed the application, I reviewed it, it was filled out intelligibly, so I started asking him questions to further qualify him as a potential employee.  None of this was out of the ordinary. 

It wasn't until he began to answer my questions that it became the best interview ever.  Ready? I asked the applicant why he should be considered for hire and he replied "Because I'm really good with my hands."

I could have believed him because he had an long history of construction work.  But there was something off.  He continued to explain his detailed work history, but my focus was fading from his words and focusing on his hands.  See, language is an interesting thing.  A simple word or phrase can cause a person to take action.  When this applicant said he was good with his hands, I was drawn to look at them.  When I looked at them, I couldn't stop staring...

Staring...

Staring at his index finger whose tip was missing.  The skin of his finger was folded and healed like the end of a hot dog.  He tapped the stub of his finger on the desk as he spoke.  "Yup, I've worked in construction for years, and I'm really good with my hands."

Not that day, I thought.

Needless to say the man wasn't hired.  I did tell my boss about him and we had a pretty good laugh.

"If he loses a finger on a good day I'd hate to see what happens on a bad day," he said.

What can we take from all of this?  When we arrive at a potential employer's location to sell ourselves as a great candidate, we need to choose our words wisely and not try to bullshit our way into hire.  Our lies might not be as apparent as a stubby finger on the guy who claimed to be good with his hands, but if we claim our skills lie where they actually don't, we're not doing anyone any favors.

Going Beyond the Limits

“Go beyond the limits” my history teacher said to the class. He repeated it, just in case the phrase hadn’t fully sunk in. “Go beyond the limits.”

What did he mean to go beyond the limits? Clearly we were supposed to take our assignment and bump it up a notch, raise the bar if you will, but how? How were we supposed to do that?

“Can you give an example?” I asked, looking for any sort of structure.

He couldn’t. Perhaps he didn’t want to. He simply told us to not settle for what we think is adequate. If people had settled for what was adequate civilization never would have advanced. “After all,” he said, “Nobody makes an impression being adequate. Great writers are not adequate; hence the title Great. Leaders aren’t adequate, they’re motivational and inspiring. Who is inspired by adequacy?”

Admittedly, adequacy had inspired me for many, many years and I had settled for plenty of things. I didn’t like to risk going beyond the limits because they were unknown. What a ridiculous notion to be afraid of the unknown! It’s like being afraid of nothing, or being afraid of what might happen if we do this, or if we don’t. I wondered, what would happen if I went beyond the limits of the assignment? What would happen if I didn’t?

Go beyond the limits. Was I supposed to add a visual? A graph? Use six resources instead of five? Maybe instead of an essay I could create a documentary. Film my thesis, my research, my report and my conclusions. Maybe this was way off the mark, out of bounds if you will. I began to wonder then, what’s the difference between going beyond the limits and going out of bounds? Don’t they both exceed the expected? Perhaps the difference lay in appropriateness, and going out of bonds is inappropriate.

I felt myself growing increasingly frustrated. Why are we always expected to go beyond the limits? Why can’t people be satisfied with adequacy? Damn Maslow and his hierarchy of needs! What’s so hot about self-actualization anyway? Animals meet their basic needs and they are perfectly content where they are. Sure, an awareness of one’s own self and accomplishments separates us from the animals, but why the need to pursue greater things to begin with? I concluded this nonsense of going beyond the limits must have begun with cavemen, the same ones who discovered fire, invented the wheel, and created arrowheads.

“I think, therefore, I am.” This philosophy wasn’t vocalized until 1637 when René Descartes wrote “Discourse on Method”, but did it exist even though it was not spoken? Can things only be when they think? Animals don’t think, at least not on the same level of cognition as humans do. And rocks certainly don’t think, yet they are. They exist. They exist and they are perfectly adequate. A rock does not say to itself: “I think I will become a boulder. I think I shall become gold.” No, no. The rock remains stagnant and happy. At least as happy as a rock can get. Perhaps it gathers moss, but nonetheless, it is a rock. Unthinking, adequate, and perfectly acceptable. No one ever expects more of it.

Perhaps one day a caveman grabbed a rock and wanted to make something of it. From that rock he created an arrowhead. The next day the caveman grabs another rock to make another arrowhead. This time the rock shatters, quite unsuitable for any sort of piercing weapon. The caveman doesn’t say to the rock: “You have let me down.” He accepts the fact that the rock broke. After all, it’s what rocks do. Rocks break.

Rocks break and people settle. That’s why those groups of people who founded the west were called “settlers”. They traveled across the ocean in boats for months, facing famine, disease, and death. They arrived on the east coast of what is now the United States of America and kept going. They journeyed across the flatlands of Kansas, over the Rocky Mountains of the continental divide. and finally someone said, “Whoa, fellas, enough is enough! We can’t go on forever. Here is adequate. Here we will settle.”

If we always strive to go beyond the limits, where does it end? When is it enough? Is going beyond the limits an adequate staple or should one go beyond the limits of that just a bit more? Yes, I raised the bar for my essay, but in retrospect I suppose it should have been higher. I decided to write about how our history has been one example after another of a person, a civilization that went beyond the limits. We were required to write a ten-page essay; I wrote fifteen. We were required to have five resources; I gathered eight. We were required to provide a visual; I made a poster, and provided charts and artifacts. I even baked cookies, not that it has anything to do with the project, but whatever. I went beyond the limits. In my essay I discussed that rock. That elusive, perfectly adequate rock. How it never became anything and just stayed a rock, but that’s ok because the world needs rocks.

Even though I went beyond the limits, I got a B-.
An adequate grade.
What is up with that?