People I Hate

               Well, I’m 49 posts in now, so if there was ever a time to really step on it, now would be it. Let me make it clear that exempt from this group are mafia employed people as well as friends and family of mafia employed people. They, for some amazing reason just don’t exhibit the qualities I’m about to complain about and will forever in my mind be affable folks with generosity to a fault and a keen sense of humor. The rest, if there are any now that I think about it, have a way about them that will make you want to wax the hair off their big hirsute arms.

                Living in Buffalo, you are bound to encounter a lot of Italian Americans. Every single one of them, upon meeting them, will find a way to bring up the fact that they are Italian. The guy can be the postcard of Sicily, introduce himself as Rocco Delveccio and within a matter of moments will work into a conversation about computers that, “well, I’m Italian, so of course I like …” If you happen to be in a meeting or conversation with two Italians who previously didn’t know each other, inevitably they will figure it out in short order and the pure delight that lights their faces makes everyone’s eyes roll. It’s as if they are the last two of their kind reunited by the kind hand of fate. This area is a full quarter populated by people of Italian descent, yet still encountering each other by chance just makes their day.

                Back in the 80’s and 90’s, people were annoyed by the whole ‘Guido’ movement, by which the younger generation insisted on adopting exaggerated mannerisms as if they were bravos prowling the streets of Palermo and mimicking the speech pattern of Rocky. A new trend has come to pass that is actually worse. It probably didn’t originate with her, but I noticed that out of nowhere Giada from the Food Network began over pronouncing every Italian origin word she uttered. Spaghetti suddenly became “shpa-ghett” and pancetta, “paan-cheet”. All of a sudden they all started doing it. You don’t see the German American’s adding hard guttural tones when talking about hotdogs, or the Irish getting all Gaelicky about cabbage, but the Italians are all over this mother tongue bullshit.

                Doing this for everyday vernacular was bad enough, but they pushed on. Anywhere you want to go to eat now that has rigatoni on the menu is no longer a restaurant, but a ‘ristorante’. Only Olive Garden managed to remain as American as the Croissandwich, but I’m sure the days are numbered. They continued by updating the menus to include headings that say ‘insulate’ and ‘pesce’ instead of salad and fish. Next came the dishes themselves and I no longer know what the hell to order because I don’t know what it is. If I ask the waiter, he’s just going to sneer and explain in Italian anyway. What the hell is going on with these people? Oh wait, there is something I recognize. I’ll have the “shpa-ghett” there Guido.

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                This pet peeve really belongs to my mother-in-law, but upon further review, I have discovered that I hate them as well. Back in the old days of TV and movies, important life lessons were usually delivered by adults. It’s true, some the questionable methods are now considered barbaric such as dishing out a spanking or shoving a rifle into a kids hands to blow away his beloved rabid dog. Old fashioned or not, it at least reflected the reality of the times. Then came Linus and everything started to change.

                It is true; life lessons in the Peanut’s world were difficult to receive from adults as they were contractually kept off screen and utilized actors with nearly unintelligible voices. The day Linus explained the true meaning of Christmas, however, started the media down a slippery slope that has just become ludicrous. The worm turned and today we are deluged with smarmy little characters with a far better grasp of complex socio or political matters than the bumbling adults around them. What motivates directors to utilize this plot device to spread an ill conceived message?

                Real life children are now encouraged by their on screen counterparts to engage in all manner of reckless or unlawful behavior. If convinced Santa or an invisible dragon is real, there is justification to disobey parents, run through the streets of dangerous cities at night, and tie up the whole NYPD on a wild goose chase with big hugs for all at the end. Divorcing parents? Well, just skip school, get your dad almost fired, and engage in a zany unlikely caper to drive them back to together. Never mind that dad was plowing his secretary and mom is an abusive alcoholic. Trouble brewing? Go ahead and directly engage psychotic felons who would kill you for a Klondike bar; you can easily outwit and defeat them in short order.

                I’m not saying go back to the days of showing Suzie Lou unable to sit for a week because she was trying to get the tooth fairy out of a jam, but a little responsibility! The myth of these unnaturally wise moppets showing the adult world what it’s like can only bring bad things. It’s the writers I should really hate, but when little Timmy is on screen explaining to his dolts of parents what true value of family really is, I just can’t help myself.

                This one seems pretty risky on the outset, but if they go and shoot me they will only make me stronger; or maybe just my point anyway. When dead ape-man icon Charlton Hesston uttered, “You can have my gun when you take it from my cold dead hands” the rest of us who aren’t super into guns said, “Yeahhhhh… ok”. Seemed a little over the top at the time, but these whack jobs have only gotten more irascible about it over the years.

                The purpose of this particular portion of the second amendment was to ensure that the population could put together a resistance force quickly in the event of invasion. At the time, guns were the peak technological invention for killing people and common ownership put folks on par, at least in terms of equipment if not training, with any malevolent force. People super into guns still cite this as a solid reason to keep an armed population, even though any internal or external hostile force is likely to have things like fighter jets that make your guns, even the automatic ones, worth bupkis. I’m not sure who they think they will be fighting anyway; we haven’t been invaded since the War of 1812 and if the paranoid set is under some illusion that Obama is going to unleash a totalitarian dictatorship using the US military; I dare say the latter will defeat them with ridiculous ease.

                What makes these irritating assholes super into guns anyway? Yes, it can be argued that they can be beautifully crafted pieces of equipment, but so can kaleidoscopes and you don’t see many people so fanatic about them. People still seem to hunt for some reason, so I can kind of see some functional reason there if you are batty enough to get meat by sitting still in the freezing cold for hours on end instead of going to Wegmans. Most of them though just seem to like guns, unlike the Hesston types who seem more fanatic about having them on hand for the prospect of shooting people. That is what it really comes down to; people super into guns are really super into the notion of possibly being able to shoot someone with it.

                How often does someone really run into the opportunity to shoot someone else, even in a lifetime? Most people I know have never had this. I have once and I’m reasonably confident that if I had a gun, the dude would have shot me as he clearly had the drop. Unless you live in a crack house neighborhood, the streets really don’t seem to be crawling with gun toting criminals, and yet these obsessive boobs often insist on owning several and are probably harboring some kind of mental image of them simultaneously firing from both hands as the incompetent bad guys run toward them to be blown away. They say if they are taken away, only criminals will own guns. So what? They are a lot less likely to shoot your niece Suzie in the face due to a zany midnight misunderstanding.

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I hate those people that drive around in there oversized trucks, I’m looking at you Toyota tundra owners. I can cut those in Buffalo some slack, due to the weather, though I still think they are overdoing it. I can also cut you some slack if you are a contractor, or some such. All you others, you take up too many parking spaces; you take up too much of the road; and you use too much fuel.

In summary, you are not fooling anyone; we know what you have chicken little.

It is a common sight at the mall or anywhere women tend to want to try things on; a bevy of bored looking men near the dressing room clutching Coach or Target purses with numb looks. It’s a fact of life that when she goes shopping she’s going to schlep along a duffel bag sized collection of stuff she feels she just might need at any second. That is never going to change. Nor is the fact that stores install dressing rooms the size of a phone booth as to not take away from retail space. Even if she’s the size of Kate Moss, she’s not going to want it in there with her.

These things are a well understood part of society and have been reluctantly accepted by the male population a long time ago. Yet still we occasionally bear witness to some over masculinized oaf whining to his girl that he doesn’t want to be seen holding her bag. I just don’t get it. His worry is clearly that he thinks people passing by are going to think it is his and render unto him some silent judgment that he is clearly a sissy who likes to prance around the mall twirling a bag that doesn’t even match his shoes. I’m certain he’s the same fellow who won’t pick up tampons out of fear that the cashier will think they are for him.

That this fool is so clearly ignorant of the bag holding role men in relationships are expected to endure is astounding. First off, no one is going to have the tiniest impression that he might be a bit fancy standing there in a muscle shirt with the barb wire bicep tattoo, dirty jeans with the big wallet chain and shitkickers on his feet. A quick look around will reveal that there are 6 other dudes standing mere feet away already clutching bags. Does he think these guys constitute some unusual transvestite club with a bag only fetish and convenes for their weekly meeting outside the women’s dressing room at Macy’s? If he’s at all worried about his sexuality being questioned, can he take one second to think that this side of a wedding ring, holding a purse is the number one indicator that a guy is in a heterosexual relationship and that she’s simply trying shit on?

I’m always tempted to walk right up her, the unfathomably hot pleading girlfriend, and advise her to stop wasting her time; he’s obviously in the closet and that holding her bag will unleash his inner queen. My only hesitation is that latent homosexual or not, he’s universally someone who looks like they can kick the crap out of me, and those guys I hate even worse.

                I know I’ve already said my piece about dogs, but this isn’t about them; it’s about a particular type of dog owner that continues to baffle me. What they are doing isn’t even borderline, but outright abuse. While I think dogs for the most part are assholes, I don’t enjoy seeing them mistreated either.

                Walking around the Allentown Art Festival or Taste of Buffalo it is an exercise just to get from point A to B due to the enormous number of individuals who flock to them. Buffalo has like 6 nice weeks of summer and everyone is anxious to spend as much of them as possible out of doors, and thus the plethora of summer festivals mid June through mid August. Making your way about can be hampered by both strollers, an understandable and necessary evil, and people who for some reason insist on bringing their dogs to these events. The average size of these beasts tends to draw comparisons to Clydesdales and they are almost universally decorated with neck bandanas; the jolly roger of the inconsiderate dog owner.

                What makes people think bringing ‘Ol Roy to an event people can barely fit into? Relegated to the lower level of the thoroughfare below eyelevel, they are subjected to unintentional kicks, being stepped on, burned by dangling cigarettes, and grabbed and pulled by inquisitive little hands jutting from the aforementioned strollers. Making it worse, they appear half crazed by the smell of delicious food permeating the atmosphere yet forever out of reach. My own dog goes crazy over a single sesame seed being dropped in a room she is gated off from, so for these it must be pure hell. Then there is the heat. Ginormous tongues lolling out behind huge anguished pants, straining against the leash just to hydrate with a tiny patch of spilled lemonade, they seem on the verge of collapse and sometimes even do right before me.

                I think the matter speaks for itself. We certainly don’t want them there, and if the body language can be read correctly, they would rather be half crushed beneath the tire of a Kia than being dragged along on this Bataan Death March. Leave Bowser at home douchebag; we’ll love you, he’ll love you, and that is far from the case right now.

                After several millennia of a fiction based understanding less credible than DC comics ‘giant hand at the dawn of time’, Chuckie D came along with his flashy new theory based on looking around and drawing a conclusion based on the mountains of evidence he encountered even back then. While his monkey theory caused some waves, especially in religious circles, scientists and even the general public at large said, ‘eh, to be honest, the other stuff doesn’t really make a whole lot of sense to my anyway’, and happily embraced it. Flash forward 150 years and a CNN poll concluded that 44% of Americans still see this as bunk. What?

                I know I’m playing in Bill Maher’s backyard with this but too much can’t be said on the subject. I don’t hate them for being fundamentally religious or even close minded – it goes well beyond that. I hate them for the same reason I hate people who still don’t think OJ did it. You are faced with absolutely overwhelming evidence in favor of something being true, no evidence at all for the competition aside from a really old book with dragons and witches in it, but remain adamant that what you see is not true. It’s like catching mom and dad in the act of loading the presents under the tree Christmas Eve night, having them fess up, but still writing a letter to Santa the next year because you are dead sure that is the real deal.

                Aside from being deliberately ignorant, they understand their position is batshit crazy enough that they feel very threatened by the mere mention of the dreaded ‘e’ word, especially in schools. Rather than quietly accept that rational people are unlikely to come over to their non-reality based belief system, they mount fear based campaigns in order to increase the chances that the young and feeble minded can be brainwashed to validate their own highly suspect stance. I can’t help but think that these people, along with exuberant rednecks, go far toward coloring the perception of our nation abroad in a manner much different than we see in a mirror. Please, keep your tooth fairy beliefs to yourselves and stop making an ass out of the rest of us.