4/15/08

A Classic Curmudgeon!

Greetings, gentle readers, and welcome to the first in a series I plan to occasionally foist upon you called "Classic Curmudgeon!" That means I'm taking just enough time to post something "new," but not enough to come up with totally new content -- isn't that awesome?

Although, in truth, a number of you may never have been exposed to the overwhelming cavalcade of sweetness that was The Weekly Curmudgeon the first time around, so this is brand new to you. For those of you who may have experienced this before, just treat it like either a bad case of deja vu or a refresher course on the hilarity that is/was TWC. Enjoy!


My Weekly Rant Against a Societal Norm (or, The Weekly Curmudgeon)
Original post date:
April 05, 2006

As I get older, I find myself becoming irritated by what I view as the continual descent of our society into lawlessness, disorder and all-around poor taste. Much like an elder statesman sliding merrily into senility (kind of like a modern day Paul von Hindenburg -- shout out to all my WWII-philes!), I'm noticing the myriad ways our very culture is crumbling beneath our collective feet.

I'm beginning The Weekly Curmudgeon (or TWC, as I hope it will become known) with a topic as old as time itself, as complex as any Gordian Knot and as incomprehensible to me as the female psyche. Of course, most of you have guessed by now that I'm talking about large women who bring small dogs into public buildings where they (the dogs) shouldn't be allowed in the first place.

This rant stems from an incident this past weekend when I went on my merry way to a video and video game rental store to acquire a means for delivering pixellated carnage directly into my skull (aka a First Person Shooter for the PS2). Whilst perusing the shelves of gory, gaudy goodness, I spied a large woman of indeterminate cultural heritage walking down the new release aisle, clutching what looked like part of a blanket to her ample (unattractive, overly-visible) bosom. Her short shorts, rat's nest hair and thousand yard stare led me to believe she was a person of middling mental ability, or, as I call them, a Crazy.

Thinking perhaps she had a weapon of some sort hidden under said blanket (or, more likely, a source of food), I skirted around her while keeping an eye on her every move. It was sometime around the "N"s on the new release wall that I first saw the reason for the Crazy -- er, woman's body tarp: it was concealing a small, bug-eyed, completely useless hairless rat, also known as a chihuahua.

The poor thing, obviously over-stimulated by the lights, sounds and ungodly smells associated with video rental stores, was vibrating like a TV screen that hasn't been properly calibrated to handle the NTSC color spectrum. None of this was particularly remarkable, however, as we all know chihuahuas are useless dogs whose only saving grace is its aptitude for being heartless fast food pitchcreatures.

What really got my goat was a combination of three things:

1) What compels a person to think they can't even RENT A MOVIE without taking their dog with them? Especially a chihuahua, the breed of dog least likely to wander off if you left it alone, based simply on its perpetual fear of EVERYTHING.

2) Why didn't someone tell her to leave the dog in the car? Did I miss a memo somewhere that said one of our new Constitutional freedoms is the right to bring your pet into any store you want?

3) What would have happened if I had tried to bring, say, a ferret into the store? One could argue that it, like a chihuahua, is small, furry, easily portable and relatively quiet. Would I therefore be allowed to carry it strapped to my chest, or, better yet, shoved down the front of my cargo shorts?

This phenomenon is not new, as I'm sure you've all seen. I've even seen people bring their lap/rat/teacup dogs into the grocery store, for God's sake. I know nothing makes me more eager to buy food than seeing some slack-jawed idiot carrying her "Taco," "Tinkerbelle," "Gigi" or "Trixie" through the produce section, how about you?

4/4/08

It's Always Something in Waco

Greetings, gentle readers, and welcome to another installment of It's Always Something in Waco! Today's edition comes to you courtesy of the local tell-all rag, the "Waco Tribune-Herald."

Now, let me start off by saying that the Trib is actually a pretty decent paper. Sure, it's got its slant, and they often cover things that I think are ridiculously pointless, but on the whole they do a pretty decent job of conveying the news to the people.

One thing they have become absolutely bat guano crazy over the past few months is launching a blog for everyone and their dog on the Trib's staff. They've got blogs for everything from bowling to LOST to politics to you-name-it. Along with this, there's been a explosion of additional online content like photo essays, videos, etc.

Whilst enjoying a rare moment of downtime today, I came across a slideshow on the Trib's homepage that showcased a uniquely Central Texas phenomenon: photos of kids/babies in bluebonnet fields.

Friends, I grew up in Texas, have always lived in Texas, and will always be a proud native son of the Lone Star State. Granted, I grew up in the part of the state where a bluebonnet was about as common as an NYU Master's Degree, but even I, an isolated rube from the Panhandle, can appreciate the beauty of roadsides covered in a profusion of cerulean splendor.

What I can't appreciate, however, is this:

The horror ... the horror.

If ever a picture encompassed most of the standard stereotypes of being a Texan, this is it. All that's missing from this bluebonnet nightmare is a bottle of Budweiser and some Whataburger wrappers. I mean, sweet creamery butter, the Shrek doll's even wearing a UT Longhorns cap!

I don't know what bothers me more: the obvious redneckery of this image, or the fact that our local newspaper included this ... this ... THING in the midst of some genuinely cute, charming photos of kids sitting in fields of bluebonnets and looking as innocent as they can be. Either way, it says a lot about where I live that this is considered post-worthy content for the newspaper's Web site.

Of course, I write a blog that 3 people read, so what do I know, right?

Until next time, this is the Curmudgeon saying that I'd love to hear your thoughts on this "unique" photo from our local paper, and if you run across any bluebonnet fields and feel like taking a picture, please, do us a favor and leave your rifle, plush toy and branded merchandise out of it. We'd all appreciate it.

-- The Curmudgeon