When I reach a point where I don’t want to the leave the house because I’m afraid that my neighbor, old man Warner, will shoot me for hammering on the wall all night, or the old lady behind me in line at Kentucky Fried Chicken will stab me in the back for repeatedly backing into her and stepping on her sandaled toes… you know, when I feel the world is against me for no good reason, then I know it’s time for me to get out in the real world to restore my faith in humanity. Too much talking-head, fear-mongering television will brainwash you to the point of going fetal. And sometimes we need to be reminded that people are kind and generous in real life.
However, when I decided to take a stroll along the Redondo Beach strand on a warm and sunny day, I was shocked and dismayed at this display of flagrant disregard for others.
I mean, here it is, eighty-some-odd degrees outside. This flag-wielding, America-loving guy is loaded down with everything he owns. Probably homeless. Can you see what’s going on here?
I’m a tax-paying citizen like everyone else, but when I see this kind of thing in public, I just want to throw up and start petitioning for change. I mean, what kind of thoughtless individual leaves their straw sticking out in the path of a fellow human being, which will surely send the poor bum and his stinky, moldy luggage, sprawling onto the ground, right into the path of a bicyclist (some distracted idiot talking on his cell phone and not watching where he’s pedaling), resulting in the smelly hobo’s death?
I don’t need to see that. I’m trying to get away from that. I want to witness some compassion. So I headed down to the pier in search of some frickin’ serenity.
At first, the lapping of the water against the boat instilled in me a sense of peace…until I got a closer look at what was hanging off the mast:
Since when was publicly hanging a kidnapped woman an OK thing to do? I called out to her and she didn’t answer, no doubt because she feared for her life, and I didn’t blame her, because look what I saw on deck!
That’s right! She was being held hostage by a Pirate/Buddhist consortium of Pacific Rim thieves. I ran to a phone and called 911. I screamed about how a bunch of treasure-hunting, eye-patch-wearing monks had kidnapped a beautiful heiress. I was panicked, but I advised that they would soon be hearing from her captors regarding a ransom demand. The next thing I knew, the place was swarming with cops.
I was then cuffed, read my rights and hauled off to jail. The joke’s on them though. I was almost immediately transferred to the Laughs and Giggles Funny Farm where the starchy-dressed staff has been nothing but kind and accomodating.
I play with finger paints and string all day. They don’t let us watch television, which is fine with me, because now I’m with my people. My community is where I live, not where the reporters race to every day. And it is in my community where my faith in humanity has been restored.
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And just when I thought every other blogger was named Jennifer (that’s right, I’m talking to YOU, Jennifer), along comes the attack of the Kirstens. First, Kirsten from Suburban Psychosis tagged me with one of those “Six Quirky Things About Me” memes, and then Kirsten over at The Soccer Mom Files presented me with the Superior Scribbling Award.
Thanks for the linky love, ladies!
