Bottles, Belts, Buffoons – December 2, 2020

Couple of things on my mind.  You’ll be sorry.

Glug, glug vs. sip, sip
Ladies and their water bottles.  Maybe men too, but I notice them less, though I watch.  Men not so much inclined to drink pinky-finger skyward.

Happens mostly when I’m in “observe mode.”  Do that from time to time.  I’m an amateur psychologist, always wondering the whys of what people do, or don’t do.  Writing material, you know?

Talking about the ever-present water bottle.  With the ladies. Until recently and the good movement away from one-use plastic and continuing with the trendy “look at my water bottle!”  You know, the “I’m so sophisticated” fifty-buck aluminum, or plastic-encased glass thingy.

Lady will lift the bottle, twist the cap off, taking I don’t know, twenty turns of the cap for some reason pointedly displaying the container as if for a television promo, hoist it to her lips, take the tiniest sip, (I wonder does anything actually leave the bottle?) lower the bottle, twist the cap back on, another twenty turns, barely let the bottle reach her lap before she lifts it again to repeat the process.  She’ll do this at least three times.  Don’t think she’s thirsty.  Think she’s bored. Or nervous. Or showing-off her new bottle.

Guy wouldn’t.  He’d spin the cap off with a flick, hoist the bottle and swill probably half the contents at once.  If he pauses to take a breath, he’ll not bother with the cap, but on filling his lungs, he’ll lift the bottle to his face again and finish it off.  If you’re thirsty, man, drink. Don’t play with it.

Womenfolk all precocious about “hydration.”  They aren’t thirsty. They know “hydrating” is good for them. Makes them beautiful.  Trendy.  Fashionable. Healthy. Someone tell them it’s not hydration until water enters their system.

Odd. And I haven’t yet figured it out.

Facemasks – this is not a rant, I promise
PPE facemasks.  Whether you’re pro or con. I don’t care.  You do know my take on “rules,” and what’s left of societal order.

Snowflake1, there are important things to get all pissy about.  Cancer, crime, corruption in politics and business.  You don’t fight for your cause with violence. Hone your common sense and you will find a more expedient, safer way, though you’ll have to abandon some of your trendy counsellors. I suggest hot under the collar as you think you are, you have better things to do.

I wore a mask when I played catcher, behind the plate in baseball.  Believe me, take one in the kisser, you become a believer.  Viruses were as big as baseballs, we’d all be looking for something better than AGN-252 Rev B.  Wore another mask of sorts catching, and I’m a believer there too.  Came in handy in Karate, and tougher to accommodate but also in football.  I don’t know if real football2 players do or do not use them.  Never was serious enough about the game I ever had to suit-up.  Suspect hard as those gents go at it, they likely do. Wear that mask, I mean.  Rugby?  Those men draw up a mite short in the sharp contest, so they might consider such precaution unmanly. Suspect one or two rude awakenings, they’d learn what it meant to be “unmanly.”  Just saying.

Let’s take a for instance.  Not that it explains my position, but that you think outside the cardboard.  Law says most places you must wear a seat belt.  Seems to me you want to catch glass with your forehead, that’s up to you, probably your constitutional right.  You prang my car, it won’t be the first thing I look for to see that you were wearing a seatbelt.  Your not wearing a belt doesn’t hurt me, your car pranging mine does.  But seat belts are the law. 

Until recently, on the other hand, cell phones were like talking while driving. No problem.  Then, wonder of wonders, and I’d like to understand the deciding factors, states started passing cell phone while driving laws.  My talking on the phone can hurt you when I don’t pay proper attention and prang your car. See the difference? Seat belts and cell phones?

Think on it a bit and extend it to PPE.  I despise loonies who chat on the cell while driving. I despise being told to wear a seatbelt. But there’s a difference. I maintain a passive-aggressive difference.  We don’t know about face masks.  Jump up and down for your side of the argument, but the jury’s out. 

I see a policeman2 in the rearview, I still get nervous. Buckled or not. I don’t have $500 to toss away.  I’m on the phone and not handsfree, by gum, that officer better pull me over. I know I can’t tune the radio (dial-style, ala 1950-1960) and trying to tune the radio to WBZ while driving is a mistake.  

Now let me ask you this:  You’re bothered by face masks one way of the other, but don’t have the crust or find laws inconsistent enough to rail against seatbelts for violating your “rights,” your “freedoms,” is that right?  Well I don’t have statistics.  I’m not going to bother looking for them.  Seat belts save XX lives per year?  Really?  The guy was 105 years old.  Did he die because he was tired or because he had athletes’ foot? What genius decides a dude wearing a seatbelt would have died had he not been wearing a seatbelt? Old age or athletes’ foot?  Be careful of the games you play.  

On the other hand, if you’re cell-phoning and cause me distress not because you don’t see the light change to green until you and only you are the only one who can navigate on green, but because you prang into me at seventy-five miles an hour when I’m doing sixty-five or worse when I’m doing seventy in the opposite direction, your cell phone causes me distress.  At which point I don’t care if you are wearing your seat belt or not.  If, dude, if, I know your poor driving is for your phone work, if I can walk, can get out of my car, and make it to your car, I don’t care if you are Bulk Brogan, I’m going try to beat the living shit out of you.

I’m not normally an ugly person like that.

Well, maybe I am.

Got a piece of flash fiction.  Flash flash. 100 words. If you’ve a mind, take a look at “Reduced Staff.”

1 Snowflake. I understand the new-age habit of using words to mean something other than what they are, then assigning primary importance to the contrivance, declaring any other use prejudicial or at least socially inappropriate.  I also understand “snoflake.”  What I mean here is the melty water crystals that make Aspen in winter profitable.  Epitomizing adopters of ephemeral, watery, inconsistent attitudes even snowflakes themselves don’t understand, trust, or believe in.

2 Soccer.  Was there a doubt?

3 Policeman. Deputy.  Gendarme.  Mountie. Carabinieri. I take offense at “cop” certainly at “pig” or any new-age epithet.  Period.

Published by spwilcen

Retired career IT software engineer, or as we were called in the old days, programmer, it's time to empty my file cabinet of all the "creative" writing accumulated over the years - toss most of it, salvage and publish what is worthwhile.

5 thoughts on “Bottles, Belts, Buffoons – December 2, 2020

    1. Not seen the refs attacked but ice hockey has to rank up there too. Thanks for popping-in. Some catch-up this morning, then I’ll see you in a bit.

  1. Had to really laugh about the ladies and their fashionable water bottles! I see that all the time here in Spain as no one buys plastic anymore, thank God! But you are absolutely right, the difference is quite interesting from an amateur psychologist point of view (I’m sort of an amateur psychologist myself, always looking and sizing people up, but I think that came from being a detective for so long…). Seat-belts and face-masks, I don’t even think about it, it is now a fact of life and I don’t know how long it will be until we get rid of the face-masks. When I was a cop and on the job, I rarely used the seat-belts as I was getting in and out of the car rather frequently, but if I had to chauffeur my Major around, I would wear it, no doubt. As a civilian I always do without even thinking about it. Another great post, witty, funny and with something we all need to consider. And yes, you should always be concerned if a marked police car starts to follow you and does so for more than 300 metres… 🙂

    1. Comes a time, the comments should be encapsulated and published. Nah, we’d bore the snot out of folks: old soldiers, old fishermen, and old cops get on mostly with, um, other old soldiers, fishermen, and cops. One day, we will sit, you and I, in the plaza at a table outside a small cafe in Valencia, ruining several bottles of Sangria, retreating to Irish or Bourbon, trying to out-lie each other. Thank you for taking time in your busy day to chat with me. Oh, EVERY policia is a psychologist, and a doctor, and a councellor, and an arbitrator, and a soft shoulder in hard times. Press on!

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