I cannot fathom spending three hours in a restaurant at lunchtime in the middle of the week. Who can sit still that long? Can they really be enjoying each other’s company that much? Don’t they have jobs to get to? Calls of nature to attend to? Laundry to do? Kids to heat up food for? Bathrooms to pretend to clean? Anywhere else to be? Anywhere? Anybody have an answer? Anybody? Bueller?
Teenagers, who are themselves sassy, enjoy applying that descriptor more often than necessary. No amount of lecturing will convince them that employing this adjective to describe inanimate objects like electric toothbrushes, rubber spatulas, and gall bladder surgery is overkill. You can waste your time and your energy carrying on about it, but guess what? They’ll probably do some eye rolling while they, for the twentieth time in as many minutes, call you sassy.
I now identify more with the parents on “Freaks and Geeks” than I do with the teenagers, which I suppose is a good thing. I made this discovery when I caught part of the episode (my daughter is watching it on Netflix— perhaps there is hope for her yet) where Joe Flaherty’s character says, “In some cultures children who disrespect their parents are executed. Executed. You should count your lucky stars that you don’t live in that culture.” When the show first aired I remember hearing that line and thinking, “Wow! That’s a little extreme!” Now? I nearly spit soda out of my nose. Then, I told my kid that I hoped she understood how fortunate she was to be living in 21st Century America. Deep down I know she likes it when I’m sassy.
I love “Don’t Trust the B in Apartment 23”. It’s got just the right mixture of camp, pathos, and James Van der Beek. It makes me laugh out loud. Seriously. While I may be prone to overusing LOL, I have to confess that I am almost never, in fact, laughing out loud when I type it. I can often be heard LOL when I’m watching this show, though. Very often.
Jamaican Jerk Chicken with rice and black beans might not have been the best choice for my first solid meal following a stomach virus. Perhaps something more bland, like broiled chicken and plain rice, would have been more sensible options. You would expect that this would have occurred to any reasonably intelligent human being. Five straight days of nothing but chicken broth and saltines may have clouded my judgement.
Some commercials, in their feeble attempts to *wink* at us, are crossing the line into some pretty creepy territory. For example, the one for the Samsung Galaxy, where the Mom and the kids are seeing the Dad off as he leaves for a business trip, do you know the one I’m talking about? Just in case you haven’t seen it, let me recap it for you.
It’s the one where the Mom clicks her phone up against the Dad’s phone and “Voila!”, a surprise video that the kids made for Dad to watch on the plane electronically transfers to Dad’s phone. (I guess this clicking thing is a feature of the Samsung Galaxy— I guarantee it wouldn’t be that easy for me. Plus, I’m guessing that I’d have to troll for other Galaxy users to share stuff with. I’m pretty sure that I’m a little old for trolling. I’m no phone Cougar!) Admittedly, it’s a handy trick. The Dad and the kids are equally excited, him about the ease of the technology, them about having made him a cute video. That’s where it should end. It doesn’t.
Instead, we get the scene were Mom bumps her phone up against Dad’s phone and relays that she made a video of her own. (Her “come hither” look imparts a whole other meaning to the phone bumping thing, if you ask me.) She warns him to wait until he is alone in the hotel room to view it. At least the Dad has the good sense to convey, not lasciviousness, but something more like discomfort. His reaction does not manage to save the commercial from it’s last-minute descent into outright creepiness.
Why do people insist on punishing their elderly, often stroke-afflicted parents (and their waitresses) by insisting these poor souls place their own orders? Yeah. Yeah. Yeah. I know. The speech therapist told them that the more Dad speaks, the swifter his recovery will be. I have an idea? Talk to Dad about his childhood back at the rehab facility. Don’t torture the poor man (and the poor waitress) by forcing him to drool and slur unintelligably to a stranger. You may be under the illusion that just because you are being a patient and encouraging drool wiper, that I will be of the opinion that you are a good and caring daughter. I won’t be. At the end of the day, you will wind up translating what it is he is saying anyway. Save Dad and I the embarrassment, would you please? Just order for him. From the start. Unless, of course, you are working through some childhood issues. Then, by all means, waste your server’s time. I understand. Mental health professionals can be expensive.
I think women should get into the Movember act. We could call it Wovember! I’m not suggesting we stop attending to our moustaches (those of us who have them should continue with whatever regimen has been successful). But we could stop waxing and shaving other things, if you catch my meaning. We should do this, not because we’re lazy and don’t see the point in shaving our legs in the wintertime. That would just be lazy. No, we should do so in support of prostate cancer research and to raise awareness regarding men’s mental health issues. In a show of solidarity, we could stand, hairy legs entwined, with our brothers, our husbands, our fathers! (Well, maybe not with our fathers. Speaking of creepy.)
The whole Movember movement is inspired. It really is. Who, but a man, would ever think of a way to make a non-activity something to champion. So, how’s about it girls? I’ll put my hairy legs out there for the world to see. (Why should the trash collector be the only one who gets to enjoy my white, flaky, furry calves as they peek alluringly from under my fuzzy bathrobe?) I don’t know if I could go a month without getting my eyebrows threaded though. I’m all for supporting a good cause, but I have to draw the line at the unibrow.
I have some thoughts as to how we could make this a real moneymaker. I’ll need to bounce this Wovember thing off of a few people before I go public with them. I’m thinking that I’ll get a group of women together for lunch tomorrow. We’ll go out to a restaurant, run up an $18 check, and toss a few ideas around. For an hour or three. I’ll keep you posted on what comes of it.
photo credit: couture-diaries.blogspot.com