There is an individual within these loosely-guarded borders of the United States of America that recently won an award presented by his employer.
I like to image that he was recognized as the 'Spork Salesman of the Year.' Or, possibly this person was singled out as the one who reeled in the most renewals of subscriptions to a magazine. Possibly this person is being recognized as the savior of a company destined for closure.
For the sake of argument, let's focus on the Spork salesman. He's the 'everyman.' The spork is picked up in every KFC. The spork is a staple of society. I am quite certain that ancient Romans had Sporks but the evidence was lost during the Inquisition and the Catholic Church somehow claimed Sporks as a divine inspiration from God during a witch-burning somewhere.
In any case, someone, somewhere has been recognized this month as the fiscal winner of Spork Salesperson of the Year.
Yet, we all look upon our professions as being innsignificant. Does your job enable every single individual you encounter the ability to both spoon and stab a potato for nourishment? Can you claim that by your labor you make possible the nourishment of countless individuals who might otherwise go hungry if it weren't for your strides in providing not only scooping but forking capabilities in mankind's nourishment practices?
Who are we to dismiss the spork? What do you do? Shhhh ... don't ask Republicans, they don't know. it will take a bevy of Spork salesmen going on strike and possibly a boycott of drinking straw manufacturers to have those with our best interests at heart grasp the gravity of the every-day, John Q Public's plight.
Then again, the Spork salesman is simply conforming. His award is a worthy achievement but to what end? A better car or house for himself? A better position within an organization that recognizes Sporks as a means to an end on the bottom line? Maybe his hard work in pushing Sporks to foreign governments will in some way eradicate terrorism and bring peace to mankind through the example of prongs and spoons.
Most likely, Mr. Spork of the Year will be memorialized with a gold-plated emblem attached to wooden trophy embellished with a slightly bigger gold-pated entry on a plaque that reads 'Salesman of the Year". A highlight in the life of one dedicated to making a name for himself yet ironically placed within a box containing others dedicated to also achieving the same goals.
My box has balsa wood walls. I never use Sporks, they make me nervous.
It's a world filled with Spork Salesmen and their product seems easy to use and will cut your gorging time in half. What is your Spork?
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