It’s that time of year again. Welcome back for the Third
Annual “Airing of the Grievances” blog. I am thankful to celebrate a holiday
(Festivus) that allows for this tradition. Clearly one of the best things to
come out of the Seinfeld television series. As always I will trying to stray
away from the low hanging fruit of politics (as best I can). Additionally, to my colleagues in
Higher Education---I hate to disappoint you this year because there is so much material, and
our profession (Higher Education) is very broken, but that blog will have to wait until retirement
for my self-preservation. Time to get this party started.
Anyone that has not already blocked me or hid me as a friend
on Facebook knows that I have slivered around the edges of my low patience when it comes to the
Emotional Support Animal (ESA) phenomenon taking our nation by storm. Today I will
make my loathe and disdain for the abuse of the current system (or lack thereof) "social media official" with this year’s first grievance.
I would be the first to acknowledge that there are truly
individuals in serious need of the comfort and support an ESA can provide. However, in a
country that regulates everything, from soda consumption to school lunches, with
great scrutiny, I might add, we somehow have turned a blind eye to provide even a modicum of
standards for a person to be able to legally have an Emotional Support Animal. So
anyone that wants to have a pet accompany them in places typically not allowed
(or where they probably shouldn’t be to begin with) has to do little more
than shake a toy Magic 8-ball that says “Make it so” and they are eligible for and
Emotional Support Animal. It is truly almost that easy.
I was able to go on the internet and sign myself up
as an ESA (I make a great Mexican Hairless Chihuahua by the way). As
fascinating it as it may sound, I have no desire to ride wing man on a cross
country flight with a Peacock sitting shotgun, much less watch it crap all over the aisle next
to me mid flight while I am trying to choke down some brutal low grade meal I just
overpaid for while witnessing all of the fun, praying I don't have to use the vomit bag.
That doesn’t even get into the little kids being bitten on
airplanes by ESA dogs gone Cujo or the dead beat owners of said animals that
can’t possibly understand how this happened given the extensive training the
animal had (wink wink). Don't blame the animal--blame the owner. Also, I think you are in need of way more than an ESA
if you have to have a set of twin emotional support hamsters and one of the
twins suddenly die, so a request is made to bring in an additional hamster for the surviving
rodent because it is emotionally wrought by watching his sibling flushed down the
toilet (This truly happen in our residence halls—you can’t make this stuff up).
So for the people that truly have needs, I sincerely feel bad
for you because the abusers of the ESA system have made a whole lot of people cynical and distrustful of a system (or lack of a system) in need of deep repair and structure.
Let’s get some true regulations and strengthened policy put together so we can
move forward from this one and get it off the list. Maybe we could go back to "Pet Rocks" to help bridge the gap. In the mean time I will be
petitioning my state representative and senators for “Emotional Support Cigar” legislation. I
really am nicer and more relaxed when I have a hand rolled cigar. Wish me luck. I live in Illinois--anything could happened, right?
Wouldn’t be an “AOG” blog without mentioning some sports. No
one in the world loves Major League Baseball more than me, but I have become
tired of all the champagne celebrations after winning the regular season
division and then again after every subsequent playoff series all the way up to,
and including the World Series itself. I can get behind it if you win the World Series--then you
get to celebrate all you want. Hell ,I will even give you winning the pennant
in your league, but that is as far as it goes for this guy. This over
celebration after winning every playoff series isn’t nearly as rampant in any
other sports so we know it can be corrected.
While I am on this topic, if you are going to choose to act
like three year old's playing grab-ass in the by shooting champagne
all over each other then don’t wear goggles. Grown men acting like ass clowns
should embrace their stupidity all the way if they wade into it in the first place. This means take your booze baths without goggles. The
poor sports reporters in their covering you post game don’t get that luxury of eye
ware protection. Why should you? It all seems like a big waste of potential
mimosas and New Years Eve celebrations dying on a locker room floor. So grow up.
This year I had my first bout with the struggle of owning a
more modern car (because I am cheap and have not had a really modern vehicle). These newer cars (2011) are apparently held together by an
intricate electrical and computer system on which the entire function of the car is dependent. Nothing scarier
in the world than driving down the street and the entire electrical system in
the car goes out, suddenly shutting down the car completely. Then you find out
the key fob is also disabled and you have a “whole thing” on your hand to try
and sort out. Count me out on the modernization game. I want to go back to the
times when the guy at the corner gas station (not a dude in the NASA control
room) could fix your car. I want a real key to get in my car in order to turn
it on and drive. In fact you can even give me windows that roll themselves up
and down manually. I also liked owning a vehicle that doesn't talk back to you
if you don't wear your seat belt.
This world has gone and got too damn technical and fancy.
While the rest of you move towards driverless cars (which clearly don’t work)
and hover boards I will be trolling eBay looking for a 1978 Oldsmobile Delta 88
with velour cloth bench seating, that can seat nine. If I am lucky I will find
one that I can take the key out of the ignition while it’s running, so I can
lock it and keep it nice and warm in the winter when I run into the store to
get something. Bottom line here is to count me out on putting my confidence in
your electrical and computer technology. If you want to worship at the altar of
the Bill Gates and SheIdon Coopers of the world go right ahead. Sure is great
when it works but if it doesn’t you are completely screwed.
Additionally, having no computer in your car makes you
harder to track if there is ever a coup or sudden uprising against the
government (which seems not to far from the realm of possibility to me these
days) in case you need to get away quickly and undetected as you permanently leave
the grid.
For a long time now this next one has grinded my gears but I
have kept away from it because my Father (who I love—sorry Dad) is a serial
offender. It is probably a generational thing (which means I will likely be met
with some resistance on this one). With all due respect to my elders, it makes
me crazy to see “Same Side Sitters” (people sitting on the same side of a booth while the other side remains empty) when out on a date by themselves in public.
Maybe it’s more romantic. Maybe it is cute. Maybe other people doesn’t suffer
from boundary issues like me. Or maybe I have just become a cynical curmudgeon,
but it makes me nuts. Just seems REALLY awkward to me. I guess in the age of texting,
Snap chatting, and Facebook messaging this whole concept could make a big come
back with millennials, since it gives them a perfectly reasonable explanation
(for which they currently don’t have) not to have to ever look at each other
throughout the whole date while silently communicating with each other. All the while looking straight down or ahead (never at each other). If you old school folks think it’s
cool to “Same Side Sit”---Go ahead and do you. You just may be setting a trend. I guess what is old again could be new.
Last one for the year before I mention a few annoyances.
Recently I had to go into the Doctors office for my annual physical (I know –you
are stunned I made it to doctors without being on a gurney--props for me). Turns out the
hardest part of the physical is filling out the incredibly excessive amount of
forms now required by the government these days (so don't blame the physicians). My Master’s thesis was less
cumbersome to complete. That doesn’t even get into some of the questions they
ask on these forms. Ranging from “Are you good at filling out forms?” to “Do
you drink in the morning regularly?" then moving to a darker place by asking a
series of questions related to “Depression” that only make you question your existence. If I wasn’t depressed before going
through the forms, I certainly was by the end. I wonder how many people
actually answer these things truthfully. I wonder how many more just want to mess around with whoever has to load them in the computer.?
Who knew that a colostomy procedure in
now less invasive than your annual checkup thanks to all this paperwork and
mandated regulation. But hey, we don’t have the ability to regulate Emotional
Support Animals. (I know I need to let it go). The good news is between Ancestry or MeAnd23 collecting all our DNA being kept somewhere in the Mountains of Utah, coupled with the Government uploading all of our medical information, the Aliens will be grateful to find all this stored in one convenient place when they come to take over.
I lied--just one more before I finish. This one is personal
and truly close to my heart. It isn’t as much a grievance as it is something that
is just a fundamental injustice in my eyes, that can never be corrected. This past
summer I lost two dogs in five days and I have had scores of friends that have also lost pets in the last calendar year. Charlie and Maddie (both thirteen years
old) led great lives, even it was for a short time. When God created this world
there were a ton of spectacular things to celebrate. Many of which continue to surround us all each and every day. In all that beauty, perfection,
and creation there was a gigantic error. One of the greatest creatures ever
engineered is a dog. Yet they live on average one seventh of the time of us
humans. They are kinder, more loyal, and more loving than humans as a general
rule, yet they are penalized by being given only a brief period of time to walk
this earth comparatively.
Maybe God is selfish and wants them in Heaven where they deserve to
be. Maybe these four legged angels without wings, living among us, deserve a more
heavenly place to live because of their incredible behavior. Maybe it is just big old
lesson for all of us two legged creatures, that we continue to ignore. I don’t know, however, I am
pissed and sad about it. I miss my dogs. I know that if I ever have the privilege of
getting a personal audience with God----before I ask him who shot JFK oe where
Jimmy Hoffa is buried (things I deeply want to know) I am going to ask him why
he takes these beautiful souls away from us soon. I can only hope that it is because
the “Big Dog Park” in the sky is Disney World on steroids for our lost fur-ever
friends. Rest in Peace to all the dogs and pets that were lost this past year. Definitely
one of the ultimate grievances, for those that experience it.
There are a lot of little things I am annoyed with these
days, including the cesspool that social media has become (no one ever changed
their mind because of your meme). I am also over the NBA (never will be same as
when we had Dr. J, Larry Bird, and Magic—hell I would even take the Michael
Jordan years back). Additionally, I truly think that we are in a period of time where there
is a dearth of good music and classic movies. Don’t even get me started on
airports and the airline industry in general and not even with “Fast Food” customer service.
You may get to see some or all these topics more in depth next year. Until then,
raise a glass to Frank Costanza (the creator of our wondrous holiday), get your Festivus pole out, and start your
preparation for the “Feats of Strength”.
I think it is time for me to get my designer “Get off my
lawn” sign ordered now, and beat the Festivus rush as I prepare for my twilight
years.
“Another Festivus
Miracle”---Kramer
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| Charlie's last Festivus December 23, 2018 |
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