Ken, one of four quintuplets, was born March 19, 1994 in the neighbourhood of South Boston. He was raised in a small wood-panel home with three sisters. His father, Frank Bonesworth, affectionately known to friends as “Bones” was a hunter with no formal education. His mother Anna, was a stay-at-home carer to her children. Both parents came from 6th-generation South Boston families. He attended the prestigious Academie de Collier, working as a hunter alongside his father during vacation. After graduating in 2000, Ken became an apprentice hunter.
We’re living at a great tipping point in the labor market. As workers demand more and more rights, and customers expect increasingly good service, many business owners are caught between a rock and a hard place. “Innovation is our only solution,” says Japanese executive Ishiara See-Iyo.
Jobs flowed out of the United States due to costs, and many companies are demanding better conditions for workers in China. Automation and the use of robots alongside other emerging technologies provides some new options, but often requires enormous overhauls and retrofitting. Mr. See-Iyo saw that deploying new resources into his business’s existing space was key. “Your shop can’t be ugly to accommodate your robot. Even if there isn’t a smiling person to greet them at the door, people expect a level of warmth that technology simply can’t provide.”
“Mankind lived hunting and gathering. Then we lived as farmers. Now we do an immeasurable number of things. Cats were undomesticated. Now they’re domesticated. They’re smarter than ever. Of course it makes sense that they too have an opportunity to enter the labor market.” Titans of industry are incredulous of See-Iyo’s plans and methods, but they’re dying to know his secrets.
According to industry insiders, private investors have been offering millions to See-Iyo. “Industry insiders are betting their Benjamins that this man has the proper training programs for a cat to pack your next Amazon order, to serve your burger at McDonald’s, be your next Uber driver, or even serve drinks on your next flight.”
In my perfect dream world, legendary children’s show Sesame Street would be populated by old time movie stars parodying themselves outlandishly. I think I would have learned better lessons, and learned them better, if it had been this way. Are children supposed to identify with or look up to a fuzzy green monster with a bad attitude? Well maybe they do, but a magically re-animated Greta Garbo would have gotten the job done with so much more melodramatic class.
If I ever get a wish-granting monkey paw, this will be the reality of children’s television programming.
As always, click to see it in the full size. (You can see the other example of Greta in imaginary kids television in our Yo Garbo Garbo post.)
You know how there are words out there for highly specific emotions? Like adronitis, the frustration over how long it takes to get to know someone. Or liberosis, the desire to care less about things. Is there a word for that feeling you get when you believe that there must be alternate realities that exist closely in space to your own reality, so close that they are ALMOST your reality, and that reality is that your real dad is cartoon buffoon Hong Kong Phooey? Does that even make sense? Great.
Well, since I was a very small child, I have had this feeling occasionally. And as I’ve aged, the feeling has lessened a bit, but it’s still there inside of me, shaping my personality to some extent.
Unlike other forms of insanity I probably have, this one can be traced directly to my mother. For as long as I’ve lived, my mother has always told this story about how she and some of the rest of my extended family took my older brother, then an only child, to see a Hanna-Barbera Icecapades show. While there, Hong Kong Phooey apparently took a liking to her and showed his ardor by sitting on her lap and dragging her from the audience to dance with her in front of everyone. She concludes this oft-told story by saying, “And then, nine months later, Amanda was born.” Everyone laughs. Everyone always laughs. But once upon a time, I believed her. I was too young to understand that my mom might be kidding, but apparently old enough to catch the implication that Hong Kong Phooey was my real dad.
It turns out that if you start life thinking that you are half-cartoon, it kind of sticks with you, there in the middle, for all of the rest of your life. I mean, I know I am not actually a half-cartoon! Don’t send me to the asylum yet. Anyway, it would clearly have been an actor dressed up like Hong Kong Phooey, not the real poorly-animated dog. It would be like thinking that Santa and Mall Santas are the same thing. No! Regardless, in my idle time, I start to wonder what my alternate reality life must be like, the one where HKP was not an absentee father. Let’s look at my art therapy session.