It's time for another two-fer.
There are some things I just don't understand. I do not understand, for example, pinkie rings. What possible enhancement to the human form do they make? They're almost an afterthought. In recent years, the West has seen more and more women wearing rings on their index fingers and thumbs, a borrowing from Eastern cultures that I find somewhat attractive. But rings on pinkies?
Tattooes and body piercings confound me. Unless one is a pirate, what possible reason is there to ink oneself up like a freeway billboard and punch holes in various body parts not called the ear? I think it's downright silly on most people, including professional athletes, but it's outrageously stupid on women. Discreet, well-hidden tattooes are fine I suppose, but when you have so many tattooes that wearing a sleeveless gown turns one into a NASCAR vehicle, that's just wrong.
How Helen Hunt qualifies as a love interest mystifies me. I'm not talking about real life, because I don't know the woman. Perhaps she's just phenomenal. But the actress I see on television or the big screen leaves me cold. Whoever thought it would be a good idea to have her as Tom Hanks' love interest in the movie Cast Away was missing a lobe or two. As one wag put it, if that were the woman to whom I could come home, I'd have stayed on the island with Wilson.
The need to repeatedly verify one's identity to outfits like the cable company. Yesterday I had to call our cable provider to have our service corrected and was passed around like a tray of canapés at a party. I think I had to speak with four different people, some of whom were technicians, and at each stop I had to verify my name, address, mother's maiden name and social security number. What conceivable harm could I do to someone's service? It's not like they're the NSA responsible for protecting this country's nuclear secrets. And why did each person have to verify my bona fides? Once I was past the first person, shouldn't that have been enough.
Scrabbles stumps me. For someone who loves words and chess, you'd think a strategy game involving words would be right up my alley. You'd be dead wrong.
Why people smoke is another thing I'll never get. Whoever thought that ingesting smoke into one's lungs would be either good for a person or pleasurable is probably the same person who has a cruch on Helen Hunt.
Cruelty to animals is a recent headshaker. In Arkansas, some halfwit poured gasoline on about eight bulldogs and set them on fire. Why? Who knows? Funny thing is, a kid was in the house and startled the jackass, causing the arsonist/murderer to drop the gas can he was using that was later found to be covered with fingerprints. So far, a couple of dogs have died and the others all have injuries of varying degrees. But why would someone torch docile, loving pets?
Drivers who feel the need to go faster than everyone else and weave in and out of traffic on busy expressways don't confound me so much as the fact that they don't die more often does. What does confound me is the reasons for the behavior. Are these people more important than the rest of us? Do they care that their recklessness could result in the deaths of not only themselves but of other innocent people? Probably not.
How the Chicago Cubs haven't been to a World Series since 1945 or won one since 1908 confuses me, especially when a francise like the Florida Marlins wins two Series in the last fifteen years, they're not even twenty-years-old yet and they have one of the worst fan bases in all of professional sports. Come to think of it, this is a two-fer within a two-fer, since both the Cubs' woes and the Marlins' successes confound me.
Since when have political candidates had to endorse ads run on their behalf? I must have missed the flashpoint that caused everyone to say, I'm X and I endorse this message. Of course, the cynic in my says that's just so that they can distance themselves from ads put out by PAC's that are overly aggressive or downright slanderous. All I know is that I woke up one day and everyone's saying this at the end of television commercials.
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For me, Autumn is the best season. The smells, the changing of the colors, everything about it excites me. College football, with tailgating parties, adds to the allure. Preparing for the holidays, the anticipation of both Thanksgiving and Christmas, is warming to the soul. Sweaters, sweatshirts, hats and gloves. It's not yet too cold for parkas and boots, but warmer wear is definitely needed some days.
Funny, isn't it, that for many people, Autumn is a melancholy time of year? The year is drawing to a close, the harshness of winters awaits with the warmth and promise of Spring months in the future. The days are shorter, the weather colder and wetter. Especially toward the end of Autumn, while the transition to Winter is taking place, the weather can be downright abominable.
The other seasons have their supporters. Many people love Summer. Try wearing a monkey suit in 85 degree weather and high humidity and appear presentable after walking from the train to a meeting. Sure, when I'm in overalls in the backyard doing yardwork, the temperature and humidity don't mean a thing to me. But when I'm in business mode, those factors are quite unpleasant.
Spring is fine. Except for the late Winter that intrudes into the beginning of Spring. And the rainstorms. And the elevated pollen counts.
Winter, also, is fine. I happen to be one of the few people who prefer Winter over Summer. But Winter's extremes detract from its overall glamour. The only time I hope for true wintery conditions is at Christmas and New Year's. The rest of the time, I wish it were Autumn.
(c) 2012 The Truxton Spangler Chronicles
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