To Our Lawmakers: A New Statute, Please!

OK. I've had it. I'm a law-abiding citizen myself. Always have been. I don't even litter, for crying out loud. My rants on drivers who cruise through stop signs and don't use turn signals was eons ago. Today? I'm calling upon our lawmakers to add to the tomes of regulations, rules, laws and statutes and help curtail the tsunami of nonsense behavior our citizenry seem incapable of curtailing on their own.

I want to see THE IDIOTS AND ASSHOLES statute on the books.

For example, if you choose to take a poor innocent donkey and send him parasailing as a promotional stunt, even IF the judge decrees that, since the quadriped made it home in one piece and that no "animal cruelty" had been inflicted, that the man who'd performed the stunt for promo and his guffawing audience (of men, that's right, you guessed it) would not be guilty under that statute, even IN that case, the schmo would, however, be guilty and -either fined or jailed, whichever would hurt him most - for being AN IDIOT AND AN ASSHOLE. (OK, so this was in Russia, but I can guaran-darn-tee you that someone over on this side of the pond is gonna think this was the funniest thing ever - any day now there are going to be flying donkey sightings from coast to coast).

Situations in which implementation of this rule would be appropriate, abound. Just read your newspaper. Lose a kid in a balloon and then admit it was a stunt? MONTHS in the slammer. Rant about smacking the mother of your child in the head with a bat (and calling her names, making racial slurs, etc.) all while on the phone (duh - heard of audio tape much dude? I'd bet you HAVE SINCE YOU ARE IN THE FREAKIN MOVIES!)? Banned for life from any movie set in this country (if they love you in Australia still, head on home).

And it seems only a fitting application if, for example, you are sobbing through your sentencing for parole violations and have F_CK YOU on your nails that the judge (and every camera in the room) can see, tack on another 90 days for STUPIDITY all while being forced to wear a totally untrendy orange jumpsuit.

Holding your infant over a railing for papparazzi? BAM, the gavel says you get a whopping big fine and all your llamas get confiscated.

And it can be useful for society, too. People who leave their little dogs in the car in the blazing sun in 100 degree weather until the hapless pooch croaks? 1,000 hours community service: scraping dog crap off the sidewalk.

So for people who simply cannot see the errors of their idiotic ways? Let the law handle it.

I can see it now:

"Ma'am, you'll have to put down that cell phone and mascara wand and step out of your car."

"But officer, what did I doooooo?"

"You're an idiot and an asshole ma'am, and I'm taking you into custody."

Death Race 2010.

OK, so I was out driving my intrepid old Nissan to a shopping mall today to get my little brother the last post-Christmas gift I hadn't had a chance to pickup. Since he was visiting and likes to pick out his own things it was a perfect arrangement.

Now as a driver, I am obsessed with driving defensively. I also obey the laws of the road because I don't have points on my license, don't want points on my license and prefer to keep my relationship with law enforcement at an admiring distance.

So there I am driving. Carefully. Throughout the 20 minute shopping trip I encountered people: speeding, changing lanes like bats out of hell without signalling; one accident where someone tried to make a left turn after the light change, thus slamming into another car who was speeding and wham - one car without a bumper, a police cruiser on the scene and a traffic tie-up. Then someone nearly hit my car as I was pulling into the parking lot. When I honked - merely to alert them that there was a car behind them, the driver gave me the finger.

On the way out, a car ran a stop sign as I was already in the process of making my turn. Honked at me, long and loud and ranted from within their car. Using my blinker, I made my nice legal turn and continued on my way home.

At which point I was almost hit by someone making an illegal U-turn.

Almost impossible to believe I've never had an accident. But I've honed defensive driving to an art.

To the crappy drivers out there, think about being in your car with a loved one. Wouldn't you want all the other drivers to be safe, to follow the rules of the road, to use blinkers, stop at stop signs and refrain from speeding?

Slackers & Cry-babies

Nothing I hate worse than someone who takes on a responsibility and then abdicates because the job is harder than they thought. Or merely avoids doing the onerous tasks in favor of the ones that are fun. Or delegates all the unpleasant stuff to other folk and either does nothing or only does the cool stuff but then takes credit for the entire operation. Gotta love a Caligula! Or would Nero be a closer match to this personality type?

And of course this sort of behavior goes hand in hand with blaming everyone else when things don't go according to plan and chastising folk for daring to suggest there is a problem or taking to task the Nero in question for said slack.

Just one more reason to live on a deserted mountaintop and avoid the huddled masses.

Grumpy Old Men

I am not picking on old men, in general. I've known many wonderful senior gentlemen who are deserving of kudos for their old-fashioned etiquette and polish. Then there's my neighbor. I'm a fairly reticent neighbor - I far prefer to be left to my own devices. I have no loud parties, I have no children, I don't have domestic disputes with a significant other, and my dogs bark only once before they are ushered back into the house. I don't have extensive house repairs or renovations done starting at 7 am on Saturday and Sunday mornings and I don't have a motorcyle. Nor do I crane my neck out of doors, windows or over fences to see what the other folk are up to.

So I find it infuriating that I am forced to submit to all of those annoying events from other people, but in particular one neighbor who is a man of senior age. He answers the door in his tighty-whites (eww is the word that sums that experience up). He paws through everyone's garbage and carries home his treasures, which he piles up in a sort of Depression-era lean-to (against my fence, and on my property). He rummages through these heaps while muttering and cursing to himself loudly (that I can hear through my bedroom windows). He curses frequently, as a matter of fact, about anything and everything and sometimes - it seems to me - about nothing at all. His door slams numerous times morning, noon and night. His bright side light shines into my windows, giving me cause to comment that we could land a helicopter in the back yard with the brilliance.

But even more disturbing is his anger and contentiousness. I heard him exclaim loudly to another male neighbor (someone who has thankfully gone back to prison or to another state to escape the tax collector) that "the only good woman is a dead woman". Now that is downright scary. But just a few weeks ago when I politely made a request, he bellowed at me, "You're a f__cking pig! A f__cking bitch!".

Now, really. I've never spoken more than a few words to the old fart.

Whatever happened to courtesy, good neighbors and sanity? I ask you!

The Subject of My Ire?

Well, today, lo and behold .... that would be moi. Me, myself and I. On the hot seat and in the corner with the dunce cap on. Little old Lise. Why, you ask, am I pissed at myself today? When there are so many worthy subjects to be focusing my disgust on? The people who cut ahead in line, the people who talk on cell phones on the bus and train, that guy last night who really ought to re-consider his steroid use who squeezed into the middle seat and then proceeded to SWELL - I kid you not - until I was squished between him and the winow, my poor aching back in AGONY ... well, hey, with all those folks, why pick on myself? Why take me to task?

Here's why. I'm guilty of felonious procrastination, that's why. It's not REAL procrastination - actually its avoidance in the first degree. I've managed to find a gazillion chores that need doing (and admittedly, yes, they all do need doing - when last I checked the dust bunnies were holding elections for their new democracy formed under my sofa). I find myself weak with exhaustion after draining days at work where bad news abounds - including no raises for the next 12 months, no more overtime, and lots of stress, pressure andfrustration. But that never used to stop me. Instead days like that made me redouble my efforts to produce, to utilize the personal time I did have on a bad day to "fight back", as it were, to show everyone there's no stopping me.

Now I seem to have stopped myself. Full stop, no forward motion, whatever that law of physics that says a motion at rest tends to stay at rest? Well I'm here, Einstein. Motionless.

I haven't given up - but my little half-assed efforts seem to be puny, at best. The "before" picture of the muscle-bound guy on the beach getting sand kicked in his face. I'm down, but I'm not out.

So pardon me while I take myself into the back room and beat some sense into me.

Get A Dictionary, Stupid!

One of the most infuriating things I have to put up with is the multitude of people who use the words "retarded" and "retard". Because my brother is, in fact, mentally retarded, and yet is the most generous, kind, sincere and giving soul I know, it is most irksome. Because he, and his fellow "retards" battle every day to dress themselves, care for themselves, help one another, and, in my brother's case, go out into the community doing jobs that make others' lives better. Like the elderly people he helps shop for, or rake yards for. Or the people who visit the college campus where he works on the grounds. He gets his miniscule paycheck and cherishes every hard-earned penny.

And there are lawyers of my acquaintance who drop the "R" bomb every other sentence.

Ask my brother and his fellow mentally-challenged friends twhere to go to look up a word and they'll tell you:

Get a dictionary!

STUPID!

They Ripped My Arms Off and Threw Them Over There!

Ever feel like the Scarecrow after the Wicked Witch's flying monkeys get done with him? When I am being pulled in dozens of different directions by dozens of people who are all blithely oblivious to the fact that HELLO! YES! WORKING AS HARD AS A WOMAN WITH TWO ARMS CAN, that is exactly what I feel like!

Allow me to answer some of those questions I get on a daily basis:

NO - those mental telepathy courses haven't paid off yet and so you WILL have to spell out those urgent requests that I get grief for not having followed through on when I didn't know I was supposed to do something in the first place!

NO - I didn't finish ALL of the assignments I was given that, on his best day, would have Hercules babbling and begging! And the concept that everything has a priority, and that priority is FIRST? WRONG! Multi-tasking doesn't mean cloning myself so I can do everything, for everyone, all at once.

NO - I haven't been able to survive without eating and yes, indeed, I will need to take that lunch hour!

NO - See above re: sleep.

NO - I will not give up my personal life. It's pitiful, sure, but it's MY LIFE.

I'm notorious for being the poster girl for "can't say no". In my next life (and yes I believe in reincarnation because hell, I deserve a real humdinger of a great life next time after this!), I'm going to be a woman of few words.

And they are all going to be: NO!!!!!!!!!!!