World's Going To Hell - Handbasket Not Included

       

Hey, take me with you!

    I’m really getting sick of people. Not ALL people. The irritating ones. The rude ones. The ignorant ones. The people who don’t understand that the earth revolves around the sun and not them. EVERYWHERE you go these people are lurking. They drive on the highway – cutting you off, tailgating you, driving in front of you 20 miles under the speed limit while they talk on the phone or text. They spit propaganda like garbage at you – reasons why anyone who disagrees with them is wrong, being sure to include slogan like phrases they’ve seen or could put in an image on Facebook. They look up and say “Huh?” after you’ve tried to address them or speak to them because your presence in the room or at the table is inconsequential to their existence. They strategically grunt, whine, and whimper when they’re completing an action in the presence of others, just to make sure you know that they’re not happy about what they’re doing. I’ve had it.

            When did people become so egocentric? I fear it is a largely wealthy world driven characteristic, meaning I’m pretty sure it’s not like this in the Congo. Perhaps there you have a survival instinct instead. A better example would be Cuba. It’s been a while since I’ve been there, but I distinctly remember watching younger people and men step off the sidewalk so older woman would not have to walk in the road. People would look you in the eye when you spoke to them, and listen to what you had to say, because all opinions are worth something and that’s how cultures grow. Cuba has more doctors per capita than any other nation (Henry J Kaiser Family Foundation), not to mention the near 100% literacy rate since as far back as 1985 (that’s as far back as the UNESCO chart goes). Intelligence is a duty and something worth striving for.

            People have completely forgotten how to communicate, and they don’t even seem to be aware of it. If they are aware of it, they must just not care. It used to be that people knew that the important thing in life was the difference you made in people’s lives while you were around and the good things that you did (not for the sake of doing good things). Now the trend is to post pictures and articles on Facebook about how those are the important things in life, BUT I DON’T ACTUALLY SEE PEOPLE ACTING ON THAT. It’s the age-old truth that actions speak louder than words. If someone matters to you, you show him or her, rather than ignoring them the whole way through a meal or falling asleep while they sit there wondering if you’re suffering from an illness or just insufferably rude.

            If you want to make a difference in a life, DO it. CALL your friend who you haven’t heard from in a while and might be worried about. Go visit someone who’s having a bad day. Bake some cookies for your neighbor, just because people like to eat cookies. 

            Whether or not you’re a Bible reader, I’ll share with you an anecdote (that is not the least bit preachy). Revelations was always my favorite section of the Bible – that says something odd about me I’m sure since it is the book detailing the Apocalypse. I never understood though, if you were going to take it at face value, why the number of “saved” Christians that would go to Heaven was so small. Just 144,000. As a child, I knew that was a lot of people if you were going to be in a crowd, but definitely not enough given all the supposed Christians there were wandering the Earth. Except when I look at that number now, it makes a lot more sense, and THAT is the real tragedy. People are really horrible to each other. It’s not just the bombs and the shotguns and the suicide bombers. If you want to look at it from a truly grim perspective, at least THOSE people are being honest. It’s the people who look at you and pretend they care that are the worst. They lie to your face everyday. Some of them are so involved with themselves, they don’t even know that they’re lying. They don’t understand the “being the better friend” syndrome – where their friends put in all the effort and get nothing in return, until they realize that there are some people out there who are more worth their efforts and move on.

            If you don’t agree with someone, you’re an idiot. If you try to have a meeting of the minds instead of giving in, you’re an extortionist. There is no more dialogue. There is little respect for others. And, communication is a memory now that people can’t go a minute and a half without looking at their smartphones (which, ironically, make people really dumb). Anyone who is still holding on to the old ways sticks out like a sore thumb, looking lost, uncomfortable, and sad. I don’t want to be part of a world like this. And I’m smart enough to know there is nothing I can do to fix it. 

What Happened To Hello?

     

This should be required reading.

 I was lucky enough to get to spend some time with my best friend last week. It’s a rare occurrence since we live 1004 miles away from each other (it’s those extra four miles that really hurt). She’s married and has a sweet little girl now, so she and I took the little munchkin with us out for breakfast. The kid really likes toast. It makes her easy to please. We had a lovely breakfast. I wish we could eat breakfast together every day. It was a diner so we paid on the way out. She paid first and then headed out to the car to start getting Little Miss Toast in the car – naturally that takes more time than buckling in an adult – leaving me alone to fend for myself. Was I attacked by bacon? No.

            “Is that your daughter?”

            “No, she’s my friend’s.”

            “Oh. Do you have any kids?”

            “No.”

            “Are you married?”

            “No.”

            “Why not?”

SERIOUSLY BUDDY?! Just let me pay for my breakfast. At that moment, an animated vignette was playing out in my brain where all of the diner’s dinnerware was flying off the shelves at this guy’s head. How inappropriate was that interrogation? He didn’t even know my name! It was almost as offensive as the bad posture, pushed out gut, beckoning of the “AW When are you due??” question. NEVER ask a woman when she’s due. NEVER! THREE times(!)I’ve been asked if I was pregnant. And they were all in the course of a month, and once even by another woman. No folks – not pregnant – JUST drinking too much. I think the response I gave to the woman was “Uh, actually, I’m just fat.” Ludicrous.

            Similarly, women who are actually pregnant seem to have the issue that their own body becomes public property. People they don’t know and will never know all of a sudden believe it is their God given right to fondle these women’s tummies. Baby belly molestation, I say. What are they to do? I’m sure what they want to do is smack the bejesus out of these strangers – scream “Get your hands off me! I’m not a petting zoo!”

            It baffles me that in a society where people have lost the ability to converse with strangers there still exists this over the line inappropriate social interaction. How do we get back to the basics? “Hi, I’m Bob. What’s your name? Nice to meet you.” Little kids know how to do this. What is wrong with the grownups? I met a really polite homeless person in Chicago. His name was Tony. He hadn’t forgotten any of these formalities. I stopped to give him some money and look him in the eyes (as I suggest you do every homeless person you encounter – please acknowledge their existence. They’re not invisible). We had a short chat, but it began with “Hi, I’m Tony. I’ve been homeless for two years. They call me Tony the homeless person. What’s your name?” Was that difficult? No. Then he called me an angel, which was sweet and unnecessary. The conversation ended with “Bye. Have a good day!”

            Miss Manners would have approved. The conversation had a beginning, middle, and an end. People should talk to one another. I don’t understand why everyone’s so afraid to interact with strangers. We have more in common than we let on. I just wish that there would be a little bit of propriety in the interaction. Does it need to be taught by the parents? Can people find it somewhere else? I remember one client at Ferragamo who told me that he had beautiful feet and that it ran in his family. The customer is always right and sometimes you just have to smile and nod when the occasional oddball goes off on something like that. He really got out of line though. His son was with him, whose name I can’t remember. We’ll call him Jake. “Jake, show her your feet! Show her! Take your shoes off!” Oh man, I really don’t need to look at your teenage kid’s feet. Please just buy the shoes and leave. He was taking his socks off. “Do you want to touch them? Aren’t they lovely?” Yes sir, they are nice feet. No, I do not need to touch them. What is wrong with you? What is wrong with people? Could we take a few steps back and at least pretend to be civilized?

Pin Away Without Getting Anything Stuck In Your Thumb

           

I found this on Pinterest, where else?

Pinterest reminds me a lot of a math project I had to do in the second grade. We had to cut out pictures from magazines, glue them on to pieces of construction paper, and then add up the prices. Yes, I thought it was a really stupid “math project” also. Nevertheless, the project was prophetic of my impeccable taste – I had cut out beautiful chandeliers, high quality furniture, and puppies.  Up until recently, I had avoided joining Pinterest. Quite frankly, it seemed about as stupid to me as the math project I just described.

            Well, I have joined Pinterest. In short, I would describe it as a flameproof, clutter free way to scrapbook. I use the term scrapbook in the literal sense – putting scraps of paper into a book. It is a colossally huge waste of time, a great way to help yourself focus on things you can not and will not ever have, a scary abyss of copyright infringement spiraling out of control, a backhanded strange way to make people feel included and excluded, and now I can’t stop “pinning.” Really, the only reason I joined is to assist my lifelong sister friend in planning her wedding. She lives on another coast so the whole online cork board idea is actually a convenient way for me to show her things I’ve seen that might interest her. I would wager a pretty hefty bet that the majority of Pinterest users use it for wedding planning of some kind, whether or not it’s a real wedding is an entirely different story.

            There do seem to be some useful things out there, however. I was quite pleased when I discovered a board titled “World Dirndl.” Not only did it have lots of beautiful dirndls to look at, there was a sub – board of “Ways to Wear Your Hair With Your Dirndl.” I’m sorry. You don’t understand that I’m serious? I’m not joking around. There was also a board full of pictures of Switzerland (here’s where we start to enter into the part of Pinterest that helps us jump into Loch Self Pity). It looks like people also have collections of recipes, but how that differs from the regular world-wide-web, I don’t think I follow.

            The thing I REALLY don’t understand is why I need to be sent an email every time someone I don’t know “repins” an image that I have “pinned.” Not only do I not care, but I don’t care. Did I say I don’t care? Am I supposed to feel validated that someone else was intrigued by the same image I was intrigued by? Should I feel concerned that no one is pinning the other things that I pinned? Should I be upset that this person chose to pin the one image that I pinned, but NOT to “follow” my entire board? It’s a whole new terrarium of social interaction all centered around a nonexistent, flame proof, cork-board-scrap-book. “I kind of liked that girl’s style – she picked some really nice floral arrangements. But then I TOTALLY lost her when she decided to use toilet paper holders for centerpieces.” WHO CARES….. (The voice in my head would actually be saying “UGH! Focus inward! Take a yoga class. Go to church. Stop criticizing other people. Get off your freakin’ computer. To quote the Buddha picture in my therapist’s waiting room ‘Occupy yourself.’)

It's Fashion Friday!: When Generations Collide

in a galaxy far far away,
or unfortunately close

           I was lucky enough last week to bear witness to a startling anthropological encounter. It’s really a lucky thing that I was paying attention, too, because I’m pretty sure I’m the only person who witnessed the whole scene as an impartial observer, as my friend Beth was absorbed in her own thoughts about the lipstick she had just purchased and the $60 pillow she wanted to buy (and didn’t). We were traipsing down the hallway away from Nordstrom in the Burlington Mall, a little bit poorer than we were when we had entered the department store, just chatting. No doubt, we were discussing any other stops we needed to make, whether or not $60 was too much to spend on a pillow, and how proud of ourselves we were for not spending any money at Lululemon. I happened to have eyes on all the people around us.

            Walking towards us, along side the wall, was a group of three elder men. One of them was probably seventy. He looked of gentle disposition, his spine a bit hunched from wear. The little hair he had was snow white and combed back to cover his shiny, bald head. He had glasses – his eyes looked upward out of them though his head tilted toward the floor. The man in the middle was significantly younger, but disabled. He was hobbling with two crutches. I was unable to determine if his disabilities were solely physical or if they extended into his head as well. His hair was salt and peppered and he also wore glasses. The third man was a vacuum. He was so nondescript that he is completely unmemorable. He was there, he took up space, but other than an outline of a body, nothing remains in my mind to fill his place.

            As two groups of people walk towards each other, inevitably, they will pass. And we did approach this convergence. Suddenly, as if struck by a pang of life threatening indigestion, the man on crutches doubled over towards the wall. He was loudly switching between uncomfortable moans and sounds resembling “YUCK!” and “Mother of God!” The moans matched the contortions his body had to make to curl up in between the two crutches, which remained stiff at his sides. The gentle man lifted his hand to his face to cover his eyes and turned his head away. His sounds were softer, but similar. “Awf,” he cry-whispered. And, the unmemorable man, for a brief moment, has a face. A face of shock, of horror, of discontent. A face that floats in space without much more than that outline of a body, a silent body writhing in pain.

            “Good grief, I think to myself. What are they looking at? You’d think they’d just seen the Holocaust.” I looked directly across to where their eyes had been and I see colorful galaxies. Purples and blues and stars swirling. What a marvelously strange thing to see in a mall! Especially considering these galaxies were tightly wrapped around the sausage-y legs and bum, in the form of footless tights (AKA leggings), of a not so tiny girl sitting on a bench. The legs were splayed up and out like the appendages of the letter K, very much like the two legs of a child who has tumbled over backwards and is showing the world her knickers, certainly not a posture that would be advised for a young lady in any book on proper manners. I guess these elder men did not enjoy Miss Galaxy Crotch or the fact that she had chosen to wear just the galaxy legs as the only garment on her lower half...or the fact that she was shining her root chakra at them like she thought it was the sun. They seemed quite traumatized. So, the age-old question, or at least my question, of what do older men think of this whole leggings-without-pants trend, has been answered. They’d like you to put it away. 

Don't PAY For Halloween Decorations!

$6.99 for FAKE cobwebs?!
Ridiculous.

            Last year Halloween got cancelled in a lot of towns around here due to an unseasonably early snowstorm. I believe, as a result, people are responding by doing a little bit of extra decorating this year. There are lots of lights, and fake rotting things, and fake cobwebs, and zombie heads. The general theme of Halloween décor is “dirty, gory, and gross.”

            I can’t help but to think that people are really missing out on a big opportunity here. Rather than spending money to buy fake cobwebs, fake rotting material, and other assorted nasty shit, one could stop cleaning for months before Halloween in preparation. Real cobwebs are FREE! Most people do pretty heavy cleaning before Thanksgiving anyway, so there’s no worry about adding extra cleanup. And since you would have saved so much time in not cleaning for months before Halloween, you’re really gaining a lot.

            Authentic cobwebs would create more drama. Just think, actual, live spiders could greet the kiddies as they come asking for candy. If you’ve let the cleaning go for long enough, maybe the cobwebs will be low enough that the kiddies’ heads will take the cobwebs away along with the candy! You wouldn’t even HAVE TO CLEAN THEM UP. Self-cleaning dirt. I should patent that.

            As for rotting material, it’s just like having compost piles in convenient locations closer to your house. It’s not anything you can’t relocate with a shovel. Think of all the time you will save just chucking your trash out the front door instead of taking it in bags to the trashcans, which then need to be rolled to and from the curb once a week. If people ask questions, just tell them you’re fertilizing your sidewalk. Feeding the rolley-polley bugs and wood lice. Bugs are going to out-survive all the humans anyway. Is it wrong to get some good karma tilting in your favor? I wouldn’t bring maggots into it – they have a tendency to gross people out.

            We’d cut down on pranks, too. What can teenagers really do to mess with your house if it’s already loaded with cobwebs, bugs, and rotting vegetation? Add more rotting vegetation? Lame. Toilet paper it? That’s like providing paper towels to start cleaning up the mess. Set it on fire? Hello insurance cash out!

            In addition to everything else, we’d probably be able to cut down on the amount of plastic Halloween crap made in China and sold at Walmart – thus saving the earth from toxic gas production, slave labor, and bigger landfills. This is a seriously winning idea. Halloween – the dirt fest of champions.