I'm well aware that since man's fall from grace in the Garden of Eden he must toil in one form or another to earn his daily bread. And I'm willing to prostitute myself (and have) in a variety of ways to make my way in this life. But I must draw the line at ever again working as a
"packager" for Sears Roebuck and Company's catalogue department.
First of all, the duties I had to perform required no measurable level of cerebral activity. If people in comas could but move, they'd be perfect for this job. My appointed function was to put into a bag or box catalogue items ordered by customers a…
