What Now?

| August 6, 2019 | 0 Comments

A Curiously Cranky Columnist

Go ahead; crab all you want.  I’m with you!  I’ve concluded, however, that I must stop crabbing about Mr. Trump, who will probably still be president by publication time, despite so many national/international efforts to…umm: un-president him. 

The problem is, I haven’t paid sufficient attention to other issues that deserve being crabbed about.  I begin with Comic-Con, which will already be in planning for next year, at which time our local media will once again be replete, yes, replete with news of the event. 

As if, at least a few grown-ups don’t get the idea by now. As if there’s so much more to say, when comic books – at least in paper – will be in even less publication, and there will likely be less unifying readership as it all moves to electronic media. 

As if…even “Star Trek,” which revolutionarily launched itself decades ago, has admirers not even remembering its origin!  Even Walter Koenig, “Star Trek’s” original Chekhov, doesn’t go to Comic-Con any more.  “ There is still much for ‘older’ fans to enjoy,” he says, “ but the emphasis now is far more on the sensory than on the cerebral, which was prominent in our early series.”  Yes, let’s not have to “think” too much!

Even though my irritation over a recent article in our own Union-Tribune didn’t get many (o.k. – any) sympathizers ‘round here, I feel secure in snarling over the over-long article last month about strategies for shoe storage.  Really, they dedicated an entire half-page about shoe storage!  Instructions, photographs, lengthy information about how to store shoes in one’s closet; with an introduction, conclusion and seven steps were in the article.

We don’t know to store matching shoes together?  Like, for one pair, put the right foot adjacent to the left foot?  We “learn” that you’ll be better off storing your favorite pair in a more or less prominent place in your closet, so you don’t have to go searching for them, as you might with your fun-lined boots in the summer?  

Now that I’ve pointed out this lengthy half-page piece which – you can’t fool me – you haven’t read, you can understand how hard I try to write meaningful, award-winning columns, when I could’ve written, oh, let’s see:  how to store dishes so they don’t break when you open the closet door?  How often to launder your bathroom throw-rugs for important foot health?  Then there are the alarming consequences of forgetting to turn off your kitchen lights before you go out for the evening.  Hah, stick with me!

Coleman and Coleman, who are probably very good dentists, advertised for their probably effective “Major Dental Work” (my quotations).  In their display ad, I count the following:  an absence of a few commas; a few sentences awkwardly penned; a few either wrong or weak words to describe their services.  Conclusion: Call them for dental work. Call me for editing.

If I thought that Cox would expel me from its techno-service, I might not crab.  But I feel certain they will not.  For, as soon as the company informs us on how to access their files, communications, opportunities and devices, they change all…including their directions.

I swear; it’s not me. Compared to my sister and brother, I’m a techno-genius, but they are smart enough not even to try.  (And they don’t have my mister, who’s a mega-maneuverer.)

All of which brings me back to Trump, and no-bell scooters.  Though I’ve out-ed myself as a contemporary crab, I still pine for somebody, anybody, to save us from…both.


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