Ah, the Fast Food Formula.

The illusion of Economy and Efficiency at the expense of Gastronomy and Nutritional Deficiency.

The Minimum expenditure of Time. The Minimum investment of Collateral. The statistically derived Minimum Quality acceptable, offset, undoubtedly by sheer Ubiquity and the infallible Reproducibility of our National Icons of Culinary Pulp.

Is this what our Cultural Quintessence has been boiled down to, America?

Can’t we stave off this craving for crappy snacking slapped snappily in happy wrapping?

Serve me, the McBillions cry. Gimme, gimme, gimme!…indigestion.

Now, don’t get me wrong. When I want to avoid stoplights, I enjoy an Expressway. And when I want cheap widgets, from China, say, I appreciate the, more or less, reliable, mechanical expediency of an Assembly Line. But when it comes to a subject as Critical and Sensitive to the Fulfillment of my Dreams and the crafting of the primary means of Presenting my Personality to the public…my Presence on the Web…my Home Page…my address in the Virtual Village…I’m sorry…but, the Drive-Thru just won’t do.

How’s that, again? You have a formulaic business model for pumping out full blown web sites from scratch in just a Week’s Time? Wow…that’s impressive. I guess. I mean…it’s fast…anyway. Is that an Attention Span thing? Can’t really bother to Take the Time cuz they gotta Make the Dime, and, hey, who’s that other customer over there! “Sorry, it’s been fun, but, it’s been a Whole Week, and I gotta run!”

Humph.

I don’t know. Takes me half an hour to figure out just exactly what I want to wear. Maybe that makes me…what…Picky? Yeah…I guess so. Picky. I’m picky.

Is that a bad thing? Well…I don’t think so. Hate to think there was someone there, waiting behind me telling me to “Hurry up and make up my mind because we’re running out of time.” Just because I was being…picky.

I wish those people telling me to hurry up could just be…Patient. Yes. Patient.

I mean…they’re not the ones who have to walk around in what I’ll be wearing. So, what’s their rush to push me out the door, anyway?

The way I see it, whatever we’re making…it’s gotta be comfortable. And, if it’s gotta be comfortable, then, I say, “Go ahead and sleep on it.”

Me? I can be patient.

Patient. So I can be…Professional.

Patient. So you can be…Picky.

Patient. So it can be…Perfect.

Tags: Patient Professionalism

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