A Bad Morning Leading Me To This Rant

A Bing Crosby song says to 'accentuate the positive', but some days that is difficult. Two days ago, I slowly got out of bed and found my daughter was in the bathroom. This is something no man over 50 ever wants to endure. No, I wasn't going in there to check how my hair looked, or to read on my throne: that would come later in the day. Although I had slept 12 hours, I still felt sleepy. The only pain I had was in my lower back, but that quickly changed as I stubbed my toe into the vacuum cleaner that for some reason was sitting in the middle of the hallway. Well, I didn't scream, but tried not to think of my throbbing toe as I went to the kitchen to get a cup of coffee. There weren't any clean coffee cups! They were neatly stacked in the dishwasher. I took a cup to the sink to wash it and accidentally dropped the cup breaking it. In trying to catch the cup, I somehow slipped and fell right on my butt. Preparation H won't help that pain. I got up and started removing the broken cup shards and cut myself. That's when I screamed. My daughter came running and I told her what had happened. She told me she'd clean it up and wash a cup for me. I took care of my minor wound and was ready for a nice hot cup of coffee, but the coffee in the pot was lukewarm. I made a new pot and while waiting heard my daughter using her hairdryer. A circuit blew, the coffee stopped brewing and the only good thing is the horrible noise from the hairdryer stopped. My daughter came to me frantic. She had to get ready for work and I realized that if she had a bad hair day I would be blamed. I ran downstairs and reset the circuit and then waited until she finished with her hair before turning the coffee pot back on. Finally, my coffee was done. I poured a cup and sat down at my computer. I opened my E-mail and found a lot of messages that told me I could peek at Candy and her friend's photographs and video cams. Now why would I look at these photos when I still haven't looked at all the photos of my Gather friends? I'm sure there's nothing in Candy's photos that is much different than those of my Gather friends. I sadly deleted Candy and her friend's invitations and signed in to Gather. What joy it was to find request after request to read some article. None were from Candy.

My day had started off bad and my inbox seemed to suggest things weren't getting any better. My lower back hurt, I had stubbed my toe, cut my hand and fallen on my butt. I had suffered lukewarm coffee, a ton of spam in my E-mail and now this! Is this what PMS feels like? I certainly wasn't in the best mood when a tele-marketer called and started trying to sell me a cemetery plot. I told him, 'I'll get back to you when I stop breathing' and hung up. Then some charity called asking for money and I told them I would be more than happy to give them $100 when and if I won the lottery and hung up. I knew the phone calls would keep coming and I'd spend the day making sarcastic remarks and be a total basket case by the time my wife got home, so I unplugged the phone for the serenity of peace and quiet. My wife and daughter were at work and my son was in school. Ah, the bliss of peace and quiet, but no, no, no, no!!! Of all the possible times, our city's parks' department had decided to cut the grass in the park next to my house. I could have screamed and no one would have heard me. The gigantic lawnmowers spent the next twenty minutes with their obnoxious noise putting me through sheer hell. It was then I started thinking of things I hate, loath, despise and quite frankly strongly dislike.

I guess the best place to begin is at home, since it is the only place I know where I can do primal screaming. I call this the male equivalent of a woman's bad hair day. I really dislike lukewarm coffee, but that is minor compared to other things. I don't like damp towels after taking a shower. I don't like having to search for something, especially when I need it at that moment. I tend to have things well organized in the kitchen. The other day I needed a colander to drain spaghetti. We have two colanders. Neither was to be found. I looked and looked. Finally, I found one stuck in the far back of cabinet where we have pots and pans we rarely use stored. Not in the front, but in the back out of sight. I found the other one in the oven. Why anyone would put a colander in the oven is beyond me. Of course, when I asked who had put the colander in the oven, nobody knew. It seems I'm constantly looking for something. We own 10 pairs of scissors, but when I need a pair, they aren't to be found anywhere. Since nobody in my family knows why items are constantly missing, only when needed of course, I have come to the conclusion that our house is haunted by a ghost who loves to hide things. When I told my wife and kids my theory, they told me I was being silly.

About a month ago, a neighbor got married and I watched some of the preparations and going ons from my front porch. As I'm sitting there, along comes my neighbor Hank. Now I don't want to say I don't like Hank, but he is the epitome of crude, although he seldom swears. He's watching with me and sees the bride to be. Does he say something nice? Are you kidding? Hank is one of those people who can find something wrong with most anything or anyone, except himself. He said, 'Look at her. She's kind of fat.' I told him that I thought she looked beautiful. He then told me I needed to get new glasses, in a joking way of course. I could not help but feel utter disgust for his shallowness and made an excuse to go into my house just to get rid of him. He's the same guy that told me when I first moved into our neighborhood six years ago, 'Watch out for the old people because they'll always be asking you to do things for them.' There are a lot of people over 70 in my neighborhood and I appreciate them and I am more than happy to help do things for them. My neighbor Claire, age 86, is originally from New York. That of course made me wary, but when I saw her pulling out the dandelions from her yard, I knew she was okay. My 'old' neighbors like me. I know for a fact some of them don't like Hank. People like Hank disgust me, but for some reason I tolerate him. He is like so many who judge a person solely by appearance, which smacks to me like the idealism espoused by Hitler's Nazi Germany. I'm a UFO (ugly, fat and old) and I have feelings, but I can't stand the song 'Feelings'. Not just the fashionable or pretty people of this world have feelings, hopes and dreams, but way too many people gravitate towards such people and ignore or put down those of us with little hope to make the cover of People magazine or be in the S.I. swimsuit issue, although some have told me I might look good enough to wear a thong and be in S.I.

The way we treat others has a real affect on their feelings and often on what they do and say. I thought the 'Golden Rule' was about caring for others, building them up and being helpful. It seems our media and way too many in public and private life are only concerned with those deemed physically attractive. I saw a story about a man weighing over a 1,000 pounds who had an operation that saved his life and now weighs about 400 pounds. That was a nice story, but what interested me was when he talked about his dreams for the future. I just wonder how many shallow people are going to ignore his successes or make fun of him and cause him sorrow? Who knows, this man might have the ability to be a great writer, an engineer, a teacher, or many other things, but will his appearance cause his hopes and dreams to be denied? How can he realize his hopes and dreams unless there are people to build him up and give him the confidence to succeed? I'm not saying criticism is not valid. We need criticism to learn from our mistakes, but criticism just based on appearance is not valid. It is a form of prejudice. I'm not comfortable around some people and some people aren't comfortable with me. That gives me no right to tear them down personally. One of the things I really hate is people who make fun of or tear people down just because of their appearance. I used to be a handsome young man, but those days are well past. Although I am now really a UFO, I still have my hopes and dreams. I fully appreciate and understand there are many people who have hopes and dreams at all ages and in many circumstances. Just because a person is sick or has a disease does not mean their hopes and dreams are dead. Life is a mission of being all you can be until you take your final breath. Hopes and dreams should not be regulated by age or appearance. I detest those who think it should be. Now, for those of you who, hopefully not soon, take your last breath, please do not visit my kitchen after you become a ghost unless your name is Casper.

Well, there are a lot of things I could rant about. I had a bad morning. My butt still hurts. I guess this article is a bit long winded, but I had to get this off of my chest. I sincerely wish everyone a day of peace and happiness. Please remember you can make a positive difference in someone's life. Just show care about them as a person not their clothes or anything else about their appearance unless they are holding a bouquet of dandelions.