Judgement at the Grocery Store

Okay, I know I’ve been quiet for a few days. But hey, I’m back!  Poor lucky you!

So, it turns out that one of my wrists is broken after all. The doctor simply missed it. Unfortunately, a specialist is now in order. On top of that, I just moved. Now, I’m no stranger to moving. I’ve moved many times in my lifetime and I have to say, the one that took place this past weekend was, in a word, hell. Needless to say, I’m going to forego the moments of joy for now (I’m still making notes in my journal, though!) and write about an annoying thing so as to have an outlet for my generalized aggravation.  Today’s topic is thoughtlessness.

I’ll be the first to admit that sometimes – especially on a particularly chaotic day, doing just the bare minimum can be difficult. A busy life tends to wear you down over time, even if you’re the poster child for completed to-do lists. At the same time, some tasks commonly considered to be the “bare minimum” are actually acts of common courtesy that in fact take little time to complete. Returning your cart to the cart return at the local supermarket is one of these, and yet, so many seem unable to follow through. Carts, carts everywhere. It drives me insane.

Me when I see a cart left sitting propped up on a curb or in a parking spot when the cart return is like right there!

I mean, it’s a matter of basic courtesy. You grab a cart, you use said cart to collect your groceries or other sundries, and then you return the cart so that others can use it. It’s stupid easy. Still… it’s the “return” process where people seem to have a problem (to be clear, I’m not talking about those who might have a physical issue that impacts their day-to-day life… rather, I’m calling out the deliberately thoughtless among us).

Catching someone returning a cart is the exception rather than the rule these days. When it occurs, it’s a glorious thing, like you’re witnessing a rare phenomenon of mythological proportions. You know, the kind of awe-inspiring legend people only whisper about, but never see for themselves.  It’s far more common to find abandoned shopping carts littered throughout the parking lot – taking up valuable parking spaces and sitting haphazardly on medians… though of course you never see the cart until you’re actually pulling into the parking spot it now inhabits.

Why is the bare minimum too much to ask?  Well, while I was stewing over the laziness of my fellow shoppers, I came across an article entitled, Why Don’t People Return Their Shopping Carts. When I noticed this article was posted on a site called Scientific American, I knew I was in for a treat. Let’s be honest: sometimes the stupidity of others can only be explained through science.

Scientific American’s article broke cart users up into five different categories (parenthetical notes are mine):

  • Returners – those who return their carts to the cart receptacle each and every time (my favorite kind of people, quite frankly).
  • Never Returners those who never return their cart to the receptacle (I guess it just isn’t their job; they’re much too good for that).
  • Convenience Returners – those who return their cart only if the receptacle is nearby (come on, people!).
  • Pressure Returners – those who only return their cart under pressure of a nearby cart attendant or nearby car owner (you could save yourself a lot of worrying if you just did it every time… just sayin’).
  • Child Driven Returners – shoppers with children that see returning the cart to a receptacle as a “game” (I call this good parenting).

You gotta love science.

The article goes on to explain that although supermarkets attempt to coax us to do the right thing (return the cart to the cart receptacle), they’re fighting against our own “self-serving goals.” These goals include staying dry in the case of a day with bad weather or getting home as quickly as possible, or plain laziness. In a sick twist, a supermarket’s attempts to make it easier to return carts to their receptacles can justify our reasoning for not doing so. After all, do we really have to take the time to return our carts ourselves when there’s a cart attendant employed to gather the carts?

Of course, people don’t think that perhaps this person has other duties as well. Not to mention, they shouldn’t have to chase your errant cart across the parking lot to add it to the queue of carts they have ready to return to the store. Sure, it’s their job, but if you can make someone’s life – or job – easier, why don’t you? If it’s 100 degrees of hell out for you and you only have one cart to return to the freakin’ cart return, can you imagine what it’s like to return 200+ carts in 100 degrees of hell?  I mean, come on, people… get your shit together.

Okay, Wendy, breathe.

My point to this rambling is simple. Be a decent human being. Return. Your. Fucking. Cart.

 

Would You Like a Side of Hypocrisy with That?

Every now and then, I come across a story that absolutely blows my mind. While I shouldn’t be surprised by some people’s tendency to do things that make no sense, some things just get to me in an extra special “are you freakin’ kidding me” kind of way. I recently heard about one of those very things.

When I think of animal welfare groups and farm animal sanctuaries, a very specific image forms in my mind. I picture groups of people with an unrivaled passion for the protection of animals ranging from the casual to the devoutly committed to the downright radical.  Fanatics aside, I can’t help but admire the conviction one must have to make an issue such a large part of their lives. Unfortunately, however, there seems to be hypocrites everywhere these days.

What do I mean?  So glad you asked!  And remember, you asked. This rant is on you.

Well, a certain farm animal sanctuary (which will remain unnamed) decided to hold a fundraising event with some very interesting food options on the menu – meat. All kinds of meat. I’m going to repeat that for the people in the back.  This farm animal sanctuary served meat at a fundraising event for the protection of farm animals. Meat. To fundraise for farm animals. You know, the animals who usually end up as… MEAT. This is a true story. I’m not kidding.

This makes literally no sense to me and, frankly, pisses me off. You could probably tell by my excessive use of bold lettering in the previous paragraph. But seriously – how can you, in good conscious, serve steak, let’s say, at an event raising funds towards the protection of cows… the very same animals now sitting, medium-rare, on the potential donors’ plates? Well, not the very same animals, different cows, but still cows. One would think that this choice directly contradicts the non-profit’s so-called mission. I mean, of course it does.

To make things even worse, this farm animal sanctuary had the audacity to get combative and defensive when questioned about their choices! And not by me, either. Apparently, there were quite a few others raising their eyebrows before I ever got into the conversation. Their reasons behind this bold dining choice made no sense either. They claimed that to NOT serve meat would be confrontational and antagonistic to the meat eaters who might attend, and they felt that they should show them by example that animals matter… that they would take the opportunity to educate, rather than argue. Presumably this example-showing and education would occur on the tour of their animal residents who are, you know, farm animals… cows, pigs, goats, chickens, and the like. I’m sorry, but I have to call bullshit here.

I will agree with them on one thing; fundraising events are a great way to educate the general public. It’s an opportunity to showcase the organization’s mission and encourage support from donors by offering them new perspectives on the issues at hand. However, what this particular farm animal sanctuary (I cringe to even call them a “farm animal sanctuary”) failed to do was offer such an opportunity. What exactly did they do to educate the attendees? “Oh, this animal here was worthy of our protection. The one on your plate, well, not so much.” How is that showing by example?

I mean, I’m not one to say, hey, you can’t eat meat because I don’t. You do you and I’ll do me (food, people, I’m talking food here). But at the same time, I don’t think that serving vegetarian or vegan dishes at a FARM ANIMAL SANCTUARY fundraiser would be thumbing my nose at the meat-eating attendees. On the contrary, wouldn’t you think it would be a given? Wouldn’t you expect it? Not to mention, if their objective is to educate people on why farm animals such as cows and pigs shouldn’t be in the food chain, they blew a prime opportunity to showcase just how delicious vegetarian and vegan dishes can be. I’m genuinely confused by their choices.

Let me climb up on my soap box a little higher to say that non-profit organizations should be held to higher expectations than members of the general public… ethically, morally, and through their financial stewardship.  One should expect transparency and moreover, one should expect consistency and an adherence to the mission statement of the organization in question.  Especially the latter and especially when it comes to fundraising. Honestly, they should have anticipated the backlash and to double down by getting argumentative when questioned makes it all the worse.

I can’t even begin to understand what this group was thinking. Their entire program hinges on the concept that ALL animal lives matter and they all deserve to live a full and happy life. How do they fundraise to support this mission?  By serving the very animals they’re fundraising to save. Tell me how that makes any kind of sense at all?  I guess some animal lives just don’t matter after all.

This Way to Crazytown

I am nothing if not directionally challenged.  Back in the day, I used MapQuest to get me to my destination… remember MapQuest?  You’d put in your starting point and your destination, and out popped directions that you could print and take with you on the road. For me, MapQuest was a godsend as I never could re-fold those origami maps to fit back into the glovebox.  My backseat would look as though a cartographer had thrown-up after a 4-day bender. And reading a sheet of directions just seems easier – not to mention safer – than spreading a 6-foot map out across the windshield as you’re going 65 mph down an unfamiliar stretch of highway.

Then came the GPS tech that attached to your dashboard… or in most cases, sat on the passenger seat next to you because you were too lazy to figure out the dashboard attachment feature.  Better than MapQuest, if not more obnoxious. You see, this tech would talk to you. Often in a woman’s voice … which always invoked the feeling that either your wife or your mother was right there in the car with you and not always happy with your performance. Knowing a trend when they see one, car manufacturers started adding this nifty navigation device to their arsenal of new car features. The idea of having an onboard navigation officer – sans the red shirt – was so popular, it became a standard bell on the list of bells and whistles for vehicles coming off the factory floor.

Right about this time, news started drifting in about drivers ending up in lakes or the middle of cornfields … the GPS to blame. Oh sure, we can laugh and say the driver should’ve paid more attention, or at least, not listened to a disembodied voice when it directed them to take that right turn into the ocean. But did we ever think that perhaps that disembodied voice was just having a laugh at our expense? That in fact, it knew the Pacific Ocean was a right-turn away and just thought, “what the hell, let’s see if this idiot is stupid enough to listen to me…”

Not to be outdone, smarter-than-me geeks software engineers everywhere worked themselves silly coming up with the best navigational apps for our phones. On today’s highways, there is absolutely no excuse whatsoever for getting lost, because your phone can lead the way. Oh sure, people still end up in lakes, but for those folks… well, let’s just say that no app in the world can help them.

As for me, I use Waze. I know I’ve mentioned it before. I love it. It not only tells me how to get somewhere, but also when I’ll be there and exactly how much traffic will annoy me on the way. It even warns you of potholes and roadkill along your route. I’m not sure why, but this app, like so many, still has a woman’s voice. Maybe people feel calmed by a woman’s voice, rather than a man’s voice. Calm is definitely a feeling you want to nurture while hurtling down the road – or while stuck in traffic – so it makes sense. I mean, listening to Lewis Black’s curmudgeonly demeanor call the shots on my morning commute, while amusing, likely wouldn’t end well.

I’ve come to depend on Waze and find myself using it even when I know exactly where I’m going.  She helps me avoid traffic on these routine trips by sending me down backroads I never knew existed. I’ll probably be one of those people in a lake one of these days, having listened too intently to the soothing, yet authoritative, Voice of Waze. Reminds me of the Face of Boe … but that’s another story for another time.

What I do find though, is my self-esteem taking a hit. Not unlike having my ex-MIL in the car. Oh, not from anything the Voice of Waze is outwardly saying or doing, it’s more the silent disapproval and quiet judgement.  You see, when leaving my neighborhood, Waze always, but always, wants to send me down this one road that ends in an intersection with nothing more than a stop sign to direct traffic. Well, we all know how that goes, don’t we? Yeah, people suck. And nowhere do they suck more than on a busy road during the morning commute to work. I guess on paper, it looks like the faster route, but in reality, it’s not… because you have to wait forever to cross the busy main thoroughfare without the benefit of a traffic signal. So, instead, I drive past that road and go on to the next one, where there is a traffic signal because I don’t really like spending my morning waiting at a stop sign for so long that I forget where I’m going in the first place.

Before I got Waze, my GPS program would say “recalculating” whenever I missed a turn. Sometimes, it would say recalculating a lot and I would swear its tone got a little more frustrated every time. But I digress. With Waze, she doesn’t say “recalculating.” In fact, she doesn’t say anything at all. She just pauses for a minute, trying to recalibrate herself, and then gives new instructions.

Well. I’ve noticed a change over the last few times I’ve driven past this road I mentioned … the pauses have grown longer and seemingly more, well, exasperated, if that makes sense. I can almost hear an audible sigh. It’s as if she’s got her head in her hands, saying to herself: “Your turn. You just missed your turn. Again. Did you not hear me tell you to turn?  What the hell, Wendy? Why do you even have me on if you’re not going to listen to me? God. Damn. It.  Fine.” And then she pulls herself together just in time to tell me the next turn even though she probably doesn’t want to.

Waze’s frustration with me is palpable

Now that I’m thinking about it, it’s possible I could use a carpool buddy. You know. For some human company. Just don’t tell Waze. She’s kinda touchy.

My Spirit Animal

So. I went to the movies the other day. What did I see, you ask?  Well, I’ll tell you. No laughing though. It was Detective Pikachu, with none other than Deadpool himself as the titular character. I will just say… GREAT movie. In fact, I saw it twice. I’ll probably go see it again. I know, I know, it’s not exactly Oscar-worthy and the snootier among us won’t even give it a chance. Nonetheless, it was a fantastic movie and I highly recommend it.

Pokemon holds a very special place in my heart. My kids grew up with it and I enjoyed it alongside them. I eventually became very familiar with all things Pokemon – from the television show and popular games to the trading cards and movies. Yes, there were movies prior to the live-action one starring Ryan Reynolds Deadpool. They were of the animated variety, but still.

I’m not sure if you’re aware, but there are about a gazillion Pokemon, Pokemon being “pocket monsters.”  For those into the Pokemon craze, we all have our favorite. If you asked most fans, they’d probably tell you they prefer the “cooler” ones like Charizard or Mewtwo. There’s also a wide fan base for the most recognizable Pokemon of all, Pikachu.

If you asked me what my favorite Pokemon was, however, you’d probably be a bit underwhelmed. Who’s that Pokemon? (Ha! See what I did there? Oh, well, you’d have to follow the show to get that joke. Nevermind.)

Without a doubt, Psyduck. Seeing the most recent incarnation of this amazingly awesome pocket monster on the big screen just solidified my connection.

click the pic for the Detective Pikachu movie trailer … you can catch a glimpse of Psyduck in his glory at the 2:13 mark.

I relate to Psyduck on a deep, personal level. You might even say that Psyduck is my spirit animal. This little, yellow duck-like Pokemon is widely considered to be one of the more useless Pokemon. Still, I can’t help feeling drawn to him. Personally, I think Psyduck gets a bad rap.

See, Psyduck is absolutely riddled with anxiety. About what?  Well, about everything. Boy, can I relate to that. He’s also plagued with constant migraines and I feel his pain on a spiritual level. The thing is though, Psyduck’s anxiety and migraines can get to a breaking point and when that happens, he loses his shit. Which in this case, means he explodes with a wave of psychic energy the force of which is not unlike a nuclear bomb. Like I said, awesome, right??

Unfortunately, fortunately, of course, I mean, fortunately, my especially bad migraines don’t lead to an outburst of awe-inspiring psychic energy. Psyduck has me beat there. My migraines do occasionally make me lose my shit but I’m still waiting on those psychic powers.

Much like me, Psyduck is also shy and easily overwhelmed by the world around him. These qualities tend to make Psyduck reluctant to engage in battles like most Pokemon and it makes him endlessly frustrating to his trainer. I, too, tend to shut down in overwhelming situations and it can be frustrating to those around me. In fact, frustrations abound. Maybe Psyduck and I are just misunderstood.

And hey, at least we’re not a Magikarp.