- Umbrellas. I hate them. They never live up to their stated purpose. Maybe it’s because I have a family of 6, and there’s no way we’re ALL staying dry; usually, the shortest person wants to hold it, so I end up with water streaming into the waistband of my pants. Or maybe it’s the fact that you have to eventually carry this sopping fabric wand into your cars and home. Or, perhaps, my favorite, i.e. the fact that when it’s even slightly windy the thing flips inside out, turning itself into a canvas bowl on a stick, perfect for collecting the water it has heretofore promised to repel. No sir, not worth it.
- The guy at the gym. Does he hear his loud and gross grunting? He is wearing headphones, so MAYBE the Metallica track he is undoubtedly rocking out to has lulled him into a VERY false belief that his effusive grunting is only in his head? Or at very least is only detectable by those near him as something akin to a slight throat click? Whereas in reality, I can hear him through my OWN sweet Metallica track, at least 50 yards away. Is this a case of “Hear Something, Say Something”?
- Apple Cider Vinegar. My wife has nearly convinced me that drinking apple cider vinegar works wonders for both body and soul. It’s in the so-called “mother liquor” they say, a term which makes me more than a tad uncomfortable. Nevertheless, I feel as if it’s going to do something magical for me, as if it will counter-balance the cookie dough and gravy-dipped chicken tenders I just ate. Even typing this, I’m sure I can feel its magic working! But then I remember that ACTUAL liquor can also work wonders, so . . .
- Stereotypes. I never noticed before that the Bad Guy Side-Kick on Veggie Tales is always a dude named Lunt, a Latino gourd with a gold tooth, pencil-thin mustache, and Panama-style fedora. Ah, Christianity: Stereotyping well before our President officially made stereotyping our thing.
- Classic TV. We started watching “I Love Lucy” with our kids and they love it! They want to watch as many episodes as we’ll let them. I consider it a huge victory anytime we find something that is family-friendly that we all enjoy, something funny and completely benign. Unless you count the occasional time the couple smokes in the apartment. Or the OCCASIONAL times that Ricky tells Lucy to “get back in the kitchen and make my breakfast”, or “get back in the living room and mend my socks”. Or the obtuse mockery of Cuban-Americans. Or the countless times Ethel refers to her husband as “Fatso”. Still, beyond those faux-pas, we’re loving it!
- Tabloid Magazines. I don’t buy them, but of course, see them while being held hostage in the grocery line. These things are all over the map, telling completely contrary stories. Brad Pitt either got custody of his kids, or is in a halfway house getting sober, or is in consideration to be named the next Pope. Among other things, this tells me that my kids have a potential future in writing for tabloids, because they can never get their story straight.
. . .Until next week . . .