Puny, Petty, Pathetic

Lately, this is how my life strikes me. No grand adventures. No great debates. Since I'm not allowed to be bored (That would be ungrateful, and anyway, I can hear my older brother admonishing me, "Only BORING people are bored."), let's just call it...restlessness. I do realize that the reason I started blogging was to acknowledge the smallness of life and, in examining it, get beyond it. I'm starting to chafe, though. I can't influence the junta in Myanmar, but I make a superior marinara. We still don't have universal health care or an immigration plan, but my daughter flosses.

THESE are my contributions? Fuuuuck. I had bigger plans, but here I am, in the 'burbs. To illustrate...

The Petty Confrontation

I did my grocery shopping today. While I was loading my car, a big pickup pulled in right next to the cart-return corral. I returned my cart. The corral was full of carts, and I nested four of them together with mine. I turned and walked away. As I passed behind the tailgate of the pickup, I dimly registered the driver saying, "Well, it doesn't look like you did any damage to the truck." I scarcely noticed what he was saying, until he said louder, "Ma'am? I said, I don't suppose you did any damage to my truck...!" I realized that he was talking to me! I stopped and looked at him. (BTW, I loathe being called "ma'am".) I had made no contact whatsoever with his truck. I looked so befuddled by this accusation that he had to clarify: "You know, when it smashed into my tailgate?" Ummm... I told him that I really had no idea what he was talking about, and he said that maybe it was such and such other lady who put her cart away just before I did, blah, blah, blah... I felt guilty, though. I have no idea why. Had molecules from the air movement caused by my passing cart adversely affected the molecules comprising his custom painted tailgate? (Gasp!) What had I done?

I also had an impulse that I attribute to my general ennui. An impulse to make uproar. Add a little drama. I thought, "What if I were to burst into tears?" How fun! I could snivel, "Oh, my God! I can't believe you would accuse me in this way! In front of all these people! I hate being accused of a wrong I did not commit. I didn't do anything, and here you are, saying that I did, but I didn't...I SWEAR...TO...GOD!" after which I dissolve into sobs. That would have added a little interest. I didn't. But I contemplated it.

The Puny Local Controversy

According to a Letter to the Editor of the Salt Lake Tribune by a senior at Brighton High School, it is an injustice that girls cannot wear strapless gowns for Homecoming. Not even the upperclassmen! Oh, my Gawd! (When I write my next letter to the Trib and don't get published, I will remember that this girl did.) This letter has generated several days worth of response and discussion. Of course strapless is not permissible, one writer said. It would drive young men to acts of indecency! Then another young man wrote in to say that he doesn't appreciate such cheapening of the maidenly form. He prefers his dates to dress modestly. (Here in Utah, the whole issue of "modest" dress is a big deal. In fact, even the choice of the word "modest" in this discussion gives it religious undertones.) This exchange has been going on for over a week, now. In today's letter, Dwight Adams told us that we would be shocked (SHOCKED!) if we knew how a guy's mind worked when it comes to women. Really, Dwight!? You're shittin' me.

"Then there are those of us who work to control our imaginations. The more immodestly you dress, the harder it becomes for the man to control that part of himself. Many of us will deal only with modest girls, just to avoid the hassle." Thanks Dwight, for taming the raging beast within. "Males who enjoy strapless gowns..." are in serious danger of an enormous boner suddenly shooting out of their boxers and smacking them (or innocent bystanders) right in the face! A guy could lose his front teeth that way.

But you see, here is something I can hold on to! Tsk! Not that! Get your minds out of the gutter. I'm talking philosophy, here.

Feeling powerless?

YES!

Feeling like you don't make a difference?

YES!

Go strapless! Man will be forced to cope with the "...sexual stimulation that female exposure provides." (Quoting Dwight again.) You will make an impact.

Someone please come and rescue me from Utah.

And finally, The Pathetic Substitute for the campfire we should have had this weekend.

My poor kids are roasting marshmallows in the chimenea on the back patio, because the weather sucked this past weekend, and we had to blow off our camping trip to Arches NP. Could this be the actual cause of my melancholy?