Yesterday morning, I watched an older lady painfully collect her bags from the EZ Mart counter. When I left, I rolled down my window and offered her a ride. I could see the look of distrust in her eyes. She said thank you and immediately turned away. She struggled with the bags as she walked.
Today as I left the worst convenience store in the history of mankind, another older lady seemed to be talking to me from a distance as I drove away. Because my car has ancient roller windows (even though it’s a 21 model), I leaned toward the passenger side and rolled down my window. She asked me if I could give her a ride. Honestly, assuming she wanted a ride to a nearby location, I had time. It’s rare for me to hesitate. But something about her seemed off. I told her I could not. She smiled and said thank you. And then she added that she loved my purple glasses. Something about her saying something nice and adding a smile after she realized I wasn’t going to give her a ride banged a gong in my head. I’ve given plenty of rides to questionable people if I’m alone because the risk is only to me. Or them, if you know me well enough.
Love, X
PS The picture is unrelated to my story. I took it Saturday. My cat was rolling around under the tree debris as if it were catnip. He’s on lockdown again after yesterday’s shenanigans. .
I’ve irritated some people in my life. Especially those who are arrogant or irritating about the culinary world we experience subjectively. Pineapple on pizza. Ketchup on steak. How meat should be cooked. Whether painted-on eyebrows look strange. I grew up listening to my Mom say, “You don’t know what’s good.” She could eat some things that the vultures would shriek and fly away from. My Dad forced me to eat some nasty stuff; I can laugh about it now. But a part of me laughs and rejoices because I now know he was among the worst to fail to appreciate all the kinds of foods in the world.
There is no right and wrong regarding what you eat or what you like. It doesn’t work that way. And, of course, everyone knows this. For some, the idea of eating fish eggs or oysters, aka snotshells, is as repulsive as watching a 6-year-old pick his nose and then salt and pepper it.
Whether you like your steak bleeding or burned to a crisp, it lies with each person to decide what they like. I watch people argue and criticize what other people eat. The ones criticizing tend to eat some of the most outlandish and nasty stuff on the planet. My brother Mike liked to dip. He’d mock people’s food choices relentlessly. He didn’t take it kindly when I pointed out that it looked like he had let a raccoon poop inside his lip.
If you want to put chocolate pudding on prime rib, fire away.
If you like fresh jalapeños on vanilla ice cream, pile them on there.
And if you like head cheese or liver and onions, I will gladly watch you smile and burp appreciatively as you consume it. Don’t get me started on raw celery, aka The Devil’s Anus.
But if I’m eating burned popcorn or a steak so well done that the fire department is about to come in and you make snide remarks… you’re going to find head cheese or pineapple pizza under your pillow later that night.
Everything about what we like and dislike is subjective.
There are no rules.
We can’t even agree that ties are a stupid anachronism that should be discarded. Or that shrimp are the cockroaches of the sea. But we can mock someone eating fried bologna as we gleefully munch on foie gras as if our choice is superior to theirs.
If you like to eat literal cockroaches, you’re in luck. In my world, I’m going to be fascinated by anything that I consider unusual. But I’m also going to bite my tongue because I embrace the difference in taste that we all experience.
I’m judging you if you judge others for what they put in their mouth. You better check your pillow if I hear you doing it.
It is the lowest form of mockery to mock or attempt to humiliate someone for what they eat or how they enjoy eating it. This is doubly true if you do so in front of other people while they are doing it. I don’t tell you that your pants make you look like one of the mentioned symptoms in a WebMD article; the least you can do is bite your tongue.
“Hunger does not need a cookbook.” – X
“In matters culinary, there is no greater arrogance than objecting to what someone chooses to eat or how they season it, sauce it, or flavor it. I’ve yet to meet anyone who isn’t an idiot with their food, and the feeling is undoubtedly reciprocal.” – X
I was never a big Beyoncé fan. It seemed to lack something and didn’t speak to me at all. But the first time I heard her new country song Texas Hold ‘Em, I loved it. It’s catchy as hell. Music is like food; it’s subjective. Often, it’s hard to pinpoint why I like a certain song. The term je ne sais quoi definitely applies. I knew that this was going to be one of those pivots by an artist that would cause a lot of ripples. Unlike Dolly Parton, who released a phenomenal rock album last year, Beyoncé is a more controversial figure. If Hardy is a country musician, then Beyoncé is too. Tom MacDonald is another artist who is breaking the definitions of mainstream. I’m a fan of fusion and the evolution of all types of genres. Beyoncé’s pivot to country music is pure genius. People can argue about whether they like the song because that’s based on taste. But you can’t make the argument that it’s not country music. At least not without having to take a deep look at the origins of a couple of different genres. It is fun to watch country music stations and fans wrestle with their objections to her throwing a banjo-influenced javelin right down the middle of country music.
PS Even Prince’s “Purple Rain” was originally written as a country-infused song that was to be sung with Stevie Nicks as a duet. X .
Valentine’s Day. I much prefer the Spanish version, which is “El Día del Amor y la Amistad.” Translated, it’s the day of love and friendship. I think we would do well to embellish our traditions of the day to include reaching out to friends and people who mean a lot to us. I’m not one to limit my surprises to observed holidays. It is more fun to catch people off guard by NOT waiting for special days. Age has rendered me frustrated by the “tomorrow-itis” I see around me. A gesture, five pounds of chocolate, or a hug on a random day might have an impact that’s had to measure.
PS The picture has a subtle meaning and joke that you might not catch at first. It’s what a lot of people look forward to on Valentine’s Day.
I’ve been surprisingly under the weather with some strange virus that’s left me with intense fever and body aches, ones similar to those felt after listening to a co-worker talk for fifteen minutes about how busy they are. I went to the doctor twice. It’s better to have a javelin protruding from your leg than to suffer from a virus. At least you can take the javelin out and go about your day.
Because people tend to dislike the stench of body odor, I opted to take a shower. Even though it was the last thing in the world that appealed to me. Yes, even behind voting sensibly.
I entered the bathroom and asked Alexa to play “Passera” by Il Divo. As the song began playing, Guino jumped up on the counter, expecting me to trickle the faucet for him. The song lifted my mood.
I stepped into the shower, being careful for once to keep my balance. I stood unusually close to the dual showerheads for the same reason. That’s when the fun commenced.
Being feverish causes forgetfulness and inattentiveness, not to mention really terrible hair.
I pulled the round knob out on the old assembly. It’s tricky because it can often come off. One of the many advantages of living in an older building is that you learn tricks. One of my learned tricks is to pull the control knob away quickly and with full water pressure. I always remember to check to see if the control valve is down.
Almost always.
Instead of the water coming out of the bottom spout as god intended, it came out of both shower heads at full force. With my achy skin, to say that the torrent of water that came out was cold would be the grossest of exaggerations. Because I was standing so close, the full force of the arctic blast of water covered me immediately. I tensed up as if I’d been tased. I’m not sure how I avoided falling. Had there been a window in the shower, one thirty feet above the ground, I would have gladly hurled myself through it.
Instead, I stood in the freezing water, convulsing like a suburban Karen complaining about the cheese on her Big Mac. While I can’t remember the words I shouted, they were new to me. My recovering, feverish brain opened a new portal to surprise and unhappiness as it created on-the-fly curse words for this special occasion. I shouted so loudly that I might have triggered an alarm on the vehicles outside. While I don’t remember what I shouted, the words sounded foreign and deeply insulting. Complete gibberish, as if I’d recently graduated from an Effective Management course.
I had no choice except to stand and wait for the water to warm up.
“What could we have done?” This is often the go-to response after a tragedy. About 3 weeks ago, an innocent person was killed during a high speed drug-related car chase here in Fayetteville. The driver of the car already had multiple charges but was free.
That’s not the worst part. The Northwest Arkansas drug task force knew about him more than 2 years ago. I had posed the hypothetical scenario of what might happen if they didn’t take appropriate action. And this is the answer. What’s worse is that there was another individual who had engaged in much more sinister behavior. The authorities had his activities handed to them on a silver platter and still didn’t take action. I’ve told a lot of people that this is why it’s hard to have faith that the right thing will be done when it needs to happen.
I’m a complete liberal when it comes to drugs. But I also have a keen radar and when it triggers, it pisses me off when I make the effort to intervene before something terrible happens. More often than not, nothing will be done. The other person is still out there. I hold my breath because I know that someone’s life will be ruined at some point. Much like the innocent person who was killed in the high-speed car chase. Or victimized on a personal level. I am 100% certain that it will happen, more so than I was before.
I will get off my soapbox now.
The person who was killed in the high -speed chase died for no reason. We can’t blame everything on resources or bureaucracy. In this case, people who knew failed to act.
P.S. Parenthetically Speaking 