Tag: Monday Morning Grievance

Monday Morning Grievance: Censorship

It’s Monday and I haven’t had my coffee.

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This week book lovers across the United States observe Banned Books Week. In case you haven’t been able to tell, I strongly support the freedom of speech [and, by extension, the press]. Yes, I have strong opinions, but as one of Voltaire’s biographers summarized his philosophy:

I may not agree with what you say, but I will defend to the death your right to say it.

It seems as if intolerance has grown the last several years, with people of every political, social, and cultural stripe seeking to silence those politics, values, and practices differ from their own. And while I believe in moral absolutes, I also know no belief is worth defending which seeks to silence its critics. Healthy, honest, and open debate is a sign of thriving civilization.

I could give examples, but they’re all to clear. No one side or party or people is blameless.

I just wish people could realize that disagreement is neither hate, nor intolerance, nor bigotry, nor ignorance. Society has placed acceptance on a pedestal and adopted the mantra of “Agree of Perish”.

Ignore society.

Speak Out

Be Heard

You Are Entitled To Your Opinion

Reject the Censors

IMG_4106

 

What annoys you?

 

 

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Monday Morning Grievance: The Stoplight that Hates Me

It’s Monday and I haven’t had my coffee.

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The stoplight downtown hates me. I know there’s many lights people get annoyed with, but I’m talking specifically about the one by the courthouse and the old bank and the building where the aldermen meet – the one right before the roundabout.

Why does it hate me?

I don’t know.

How do I know it hates me?

Easy. It’s always red.

OK, always is a slight exaggeration.

I kept a list over the past month or so, and the light is only red 94% of the time.

Still, that’s a pretty high percentage.

It’s even more annoying because most of the time – any by most I mean 9 times out of ten – I’m coming through late at night. I am literally the only one on the road, no-one else is waiting for the light, and as soon as I leave the roundabout it’ll turn yellow and force me to stop in the middle of the night for nobody.

It used to be that the lights downtown were on a timer and after 10.30 at night they’d change to caution lights.

No more.

Now, I must suffer the capricious whims of this apparently sentient traffic signal.

Thankfully, I won’t need to go that way today.

Tomorrow, though, I will.

sigh

 

 

What annoys you?

 

 

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Don’t forget to follow me on:

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Twitter – where you can see my thoughts in 140 characters or less. Also, funny retweets.

Monday Morning Grievance: Limp Bacon

It’s Monday and I haven’t had my coffee.

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Limp bacon is disgusting, hardly worthy of even being called bacon. I’d even prefer the pseudo-bacon of “Canadian Bacon” over a piece of flabby, flaccidly limp bacon. Bacon is meant to be fried, along with eggs, chicken, green tomatoes, potatoes, and Twinkies. None of these should be soggy post-fry; indeed, they should be nice and crispy – and bacon is no exception. When bacon is not crisp and crunchy, one has the culinary experience of chewing on a piece of warm fat. Maybe that’s your thing, and that’s OK – but don’t you ever dare call that monstrosity bacon. Such things will never be bacon and I question your sanity if you find eating unadulterated fat appealing. Look, I know fat is a necessary ingredient, but when’s the last time you ate a spoonful of lard just because you wanted to? If you have done that recently – first, don’t answer the question and second, gross. Anyway, bacon makes almost everything taste better, but limp bacon destroys lives. So get out our pan, invest in a bacon press, and fry it good. Remember:

Friends Don’t Let Friends Eat Limp Bacon

 

 

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Don’t forget to follow me on:

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Twitter – where you can see my thoughts in 140 characters or less. Also, funny retweets.

Monday Morning Grievance: Non-Words

It’s Monday and I haven’t had my coffee.

Monday Morning Grievances Logo 1

Yes, I have a long weekend. Yes, I’m still up early. No, I’m not going in to my office – even though I could get some things done . . . well, probably. Google Drive helps me work from home; all I have to do is make sure the files and are compatible . . . and that I actually upload my work to my drive before leaving for the school. I certainly can’t blame Google for that particular failing, now can I?

I wouldn’t say that nothing annoyed me this week; rather, nothing annoyed me to the point that I wrote it down as a possible Monday Morning Grievance. So, it’s back to those first posts – you know, the ones where I simply listed five things without any explanation. Believe it or not, my very first grievance was about drivers who don’t use turn signals, which I just so happened to write about two weeks ago. So, that brings me to

WORDS THAT AREN’T REALLY WORDS

I’m not talking about words that are simply mispronounced or misused, although they are indeed annoying. I’m talking about words that are just plain wrong. Among the many words lying in the gutter, robbed of any meaning by ignorant hoodlums, lies sandwich.

Really, when was the last time you heard this word pronounced correctly by someone other than an English teacher or other lover of grammar?

To many, this word is pronounced “samwich” or – the greatest atrocity of all – “sammich”.

There is no such thing as a “sammich”.

It’s really not that difficult:

Say sand.

Say which.

Now put them together . . .

NO! NOT “SAMWICH”!

AND NOT “SAMMICH”, EITHER!

Sand-which

Sand-which

Sandwich

*sigh*

You Keep Using That Word

 

 

What annoys you?

 

 

Have a suggestion for a poem, photograph, or future post?

Drop a note in the prompt box!

 

Don’t forget to follow me on:

Facebook – where I share news stories, articles from other blogs, and various and sundry miscellany that happens to catch my eye. It’s stuff you won’t see here! Well, mostly.

Instagram – where I show you my Life in Motion and share quotes and such. The widget only shows my last three photographs – don’t you want to see them all?

Twitter – where you can see my thoughts in 140 characters or less. Also, funny retweets.

Monday Morning Grievance: Fast Food Failures

It’s Monday and I haven’t had my coffee.

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[rant]

I have a complicated relationship with fast food places.

I actually enjoy eating some of the food at some fast food restaurants:

Wendy’s spicy chicken sandwich & french fries

Burger King’s chicken fries & Big King Burger

McDonald’s Big Mac (sans onion) and “apple pie” desert

Yes, even though I make my own pie from scratch.

Now you know one of my guilty pleasures.

However, taken as a whole, fast food tends to make me feel physically ill.

Given that I’m going to shell out money for food that tastes good now and comes back for revenge later, you’d think they’d at least get my order right. I understand: the American fast food worker is generally looked down on in society. They have a thankless and often disgusting job to do. So I can understand if every once in a while they forget a straw or napkins or fail to ask me if I want ketchup.

But there’s one thing I have a hard time forgiving: missing sauces. If I’ve ordered chicken strips or chicken nuggets or some other dippable chicken product, sauces aren’t just a condiment; most likely, they’re necessary to make the meal remotely palatable. Why do you think the customer gets one free? It’s not because the establishment is run by fine folks (though in many cases they are), it’s because if we have to eat deep fried chicken product, we need something to make it taste halfway decent and make us consider ordering it the next time.

Forgetting sauces ruins not only the meal, but also the entire day/evening, because now I have that disgusting oil-fried chicken product taste in my mouth – and it isn’t honey mustard flavored oil fried chicken product – and I’m reduced to complaining about it on my blog.

And you know what? I saw you making my meal. One person made my drinks, one person got the sides, one person got the chicken, and I distinctly head the woman who passed me my food ask one of you “you put the sauce in, right?” to which one of you little liars answered “yeah”.

The only thing worse than forgetting my sauce is to consistently forget my sauce, napkins, straw, and the side order for which I paid.

I’M LOOKING AT YOU, BOJANGLES!

Thanks for ruining my Sunday night!

See you again next week?

[/rant]

What annoys you?

Have a suggestion for a poem, photograph, or future post?

Drop a note in the prompt box!

Don’t forget to follow me on:

Facebook – where I share news stories, articles from other blogs, and various and sundry miscellany that happens to catch my eye. It’s stuff you won’t see here! Well, mostly.

Instagram – where I show you my Life in Motion and share quotes and such. The widget only shows my last three photographs – don’t you want to see them all?

Twitter – where you can see my thoughts in 140 characters or less. Also, funny retweets.

Monday Morning Grievance: No Turn Signals

It’s Monday and I haven’t had my coffee.

Monday Morning Grievances Logo 1

Dear Driver In Front of Me,

I see that you’re driving a vehicle made after the 1940s. Now, I can’t see into your vehicle, so I don’t know what features you have.

Maybe you have a cd/mp3 player or satellite radio. Those things beat a cassette player / radio combo, which is still better than an 8-track, which is either marginally better than nothing at all or slightly worse than nothing – I’m really not sure on that last score.

Perhaps you have heated seats; those are going to come in very handy in the next couple of months. Even here in eastern North Carolina (USA), the winters have gotten a bit colder and slightly more brutal than in the past. Climate change, am I right?

Conceivably you have seat belts and air bags and some kind of impact protection that – depending on the year and the study – safety experts alternately claim protect us or put us in more danger. Really, you’d think they could make up their minds.

If you’re really rolling in the dough, you’ve got a movie playing device or two or three to keep your passengers quiet while you navigate the blacktop. Whatever.

However, there is one feature I know you have (see made after 1940s):

turn signals

Please use them . . . or you just might end up needing some of those safety features I just mentioned.

Not that I’d ram you on purpose, mind; I wouldn’t go to prison just to teach you a lesson.

Fate will see to that

 

 

What annoys you?

 

 

Have a suggestion for a poem, photograph, or future post?

Drop a note in the prompt box!

 

Don’t forget to follow me on:

Facebook – where I share news stories, articles from other blogs, and various and sundry miscellany that happens to catch my eye. It’s stuff you won’t see here! Well, mostly.

Instagram – where I show you my Life in Motion and share quotes and such. The widget only shows my last three photographs – don’t you want to see them all?

Twitter – where you can see my thoughts in 140 characters or less. Also, funny retweets.

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