I can comfortably say that I got through St. Pat’s weekend with no casualties and with as little hatred as possible. Don’t get me wrong, there were multiple idiots that I genuinely wanted to choke out, but by the standards of that particular day it was relatively painless. I’ve made no secret of my disdain for the holiday, but I’m not going to let it bother me any more.
Back around the first of the year, I introduced a new segment that I promised I’d revisit from time to time. It was based upon my New Year’s Resolution to try to be a better and more tolerant person. So I’ve been compiling a list of things, people, and behaviors that used to really irritate the hell out of me, but I’m not going to let them bother me any more. The list is ever growing, and well beyond 100 items so far, so I may be returning to this segment often.
This week I’m going to start with people who say really stupid things about the weather, or state the glaringly obvious as if it’s worthy of small talk. It doesn’t matter the season, these people exist in droves and I genuinely wish that I could hand them a transcript of themselves at the end of the day so they could read back all the dumb shit they said. We all know that I am a bartender in a seasonal beach resort town. So to say that my livelihood is weather dependent would be a gross understatement. And despite these people thinking that they are delivering some hot off the presses news to me regarding the present meteorological conditions where I am standing, I am in fact painfully cognizant of the current climate surrounding me. I’ll now give you some examples of the stupid things these soldiers of the obvious say.
First is the moron who comes up to the outdoor bar I’m standing behind on a day when it’s over 100 degrees. They will invariably say this one; “so, is it hot enough for ya?” and then giggle as if that were humorous in some parallel dimension that I’m not privy to. I always either give them a blank stare, or respond in a shout; “no, I prefer when it’s about 120!” These are the same people who will sit at the outside bar on that day and constantly complain to me about how hot they are as if I can control that in some way. To this, I also have a few go to responses like; “I’m here because I have to be, what’s your excuse?” or “believe me, if I could control the weather you would have been stricken by lightning half way through your first beer.” They usually laugh as if I were kidding.
This obviously is the same person who comes in during the dead of winter on a single digit degree night and says; “so, cold enough for ya?” This is the same caliber of amateur meteorologist that will come in on a rainy night in the winter and say this little gem; “ya know if it were colder out this would all be snow.” I used to really want to hurt these people, but I’m not going to let them bother me any more.
I’m 45 years old and despite how many desserts and candy bars I’ve consumed in my life, I still have absolutely no idea what nougat is. But I’m not going to let it bother me any more.
I will go to the grave knowing that P. Sherman lives at 42 Wallaby Way, Sydney, Australia, but I don’t know any of my own passwords. But I’m not going to let it bother me any more.
Now, I’d like to focus some of my loathing towards the world of music. First I want to discuss the rise and fall (at least in my eyes) of what was once one of my favorite bands; Aerosmith. I recall back in the 70’s when this badass metal band blessed us with such ripping rock anthems as Sweet Emotion and Dream On. I loved their sound and thought they were one of the greatest bands of all time. I remember how much I wished for longevity with this band. That proved to be one of those ‘careful what you wish for’ thoughts. Then came the tragic 80’s and 90’s when they morphed into a Top 40 band and spewed out tunes like; Dude Looks Like A Lady and Pink. I had genuinely hoped that was rock bottom (no pun intended), but now the uniquely raspy voiced frontman for this once amazing band is now just a judge on a game show. I now cry every time I hear Back In The Saddle. But I’m not going to let it bother me any more.
Keeping with the music theme, this next one may be met with some opposition. Though they are one of the more popular bands in history, I personally wish that U2 would just go away. Much as I enjoy hearing the narcissistic, ego-maniacal Bono butcher the lyrics of once great songs in futile attempts at doing covers of bands much more talented, I really wish they had thrown in the towel after the Unforgettable Fire. Since then, it’s been a never ending identity crisis hodgepodge of his political views, crappy songs, and inability to count to four in Spanish. This is just another example of a once decent band sticking around for way too long and doing all the wrong things. And despite the fact that I’ve never held a guitar in my life, I’m pretty sure I know approximately three fewer guitar riffs than the Edge. You are now nothing more than a middle aged trifecta of mediocrity that needs to just go away. But I’m not going to let them bother me any more.
I never determined with certainty whether Tracey Chapman was male or female. But I’m not going to let it bother me any more.
I think that’s about enough for this week. Thanks for playing along. Until next week, Syd Nichols