It’s a beautiful summer day after a brief rainstorm, so it’s a perfect time to do a little grumbling for the sake of grumbling.
There is a need to get things verbalized instead of having them stuck in the craw of the mind, and with my troubled campaign to become mayor, currently in neutral, after nailing down six solid votes, I’m taking a break from the campaign trail to do a little grumbling about thinks that irk me. They may not irk you, but they irk me.
First up, the word irk. Who the heck made that word? It makes me want to vomit and vomit is another ugly word that should not have found a way into dictionaries.
Why do bicycle helmets have to look so ugly and geeky?
Why haven’t the Roughriders’ marketing team designed and sold a bicycle helmet yet? They’ve put the logo on everything else that moves (and doesn’t move) in the province.
When adults win something, why do we give them plaques or trophies? Give them cash. Give the kids ribbons and trophies to boost the ego. Adults don’t need trophies, unless it’s the cup that Stanley or Grey donated to the sporting cause. I have a couple of dusty trophies made from cracked windshield glass. One arrived in a box … broken, of course. I did not request a replacement, nor do I remember what they were for and I’m too lazy to get up from my ‘puter chair to find out.
As you can discern, I haven’t received many awards in my life span and really don’t want or need any now.
Why has Estevan’s truck bypass taken over 58 years to become a reality? Of course, I speak out of turn, it’s not a reality yet, but I understand two guys on a grader are working on it so we could have one any year now.
Why does the traffic light on Fourth Street and 13th Avenue work so wierdly now?
Why do so many pedestrians on Fourth Street ignore the marked crossings that protect them with red flashing lights, especially when they decide to jaywalk three feet from these marked walkways?
Why is it that the drivers of the biggest pickup trucks have the smallest skill set when it comes to parking lots?
Why can’t the CBC bring decent radio reception to the Energy City?
I miss crazy fads like hula hoops, black diamond rings, pet rocks, copper tooling and nebbishes. These were just stupid things that made us laugh, or at least smile. I also miss that wonderful game of lawn darts, but I kinda understand why that game didn’t last all that long on the popularity trail. Maybe we needed Roughrider lawn dart helmets.
I still hate our Canadian Botox currency. This plastic money that won’t bend or break and has a tendency to slither away, irritates me, but still not enough to make me want to switch to using plastic cards to make $4 purchases.
I don’t like noisy flip-flops.
But hey, all isn’t lost.
I still like puppy dogs, kitty cats, pretty birds that sing pretty songs, pretty girls who sing pretty songs, unless they have nasty personalities or sing horribly. I enjoy patio jokes with the bride, watching canola, flax and wheat fields unfold and hockey players who know how to play the game, the Roughriders and chocolate cake.
All is not lost on the home front. I just had to get a few irksomes out of the way. It’s necessary on occasion.
