07-21-18 Patricia Sargeant

Wednesday, March 7, 2012

Mini Passions, Maxi Impact

Family, the environment, writing—these are my life passions. So why do my mini-passions, not the biggies, cause my blood to curdle?

Let me clarify. Gum on the sidewalk can wreck my day. No really. I’m not sure what it is about this particular transgression that makes me want to gnaw down trees, but one sighting of secreted Bubble Yum generates more emotional TNT than 137 telemarketers and fifteen ATM fees. Maybe it’s because we have really nice brick sidewalks on campus. Or maybe not...since we also have little green men in hazmat suits who continually scrape the sh…eh, alien crap off the mortar. (NOTE: We actually have facilities personnel in golf carts and khakis, but that sounds far less impressive.)

And while I’ve never succumbed to road rage, I frequently fantasize about chasing down those chronic blackguards who toss cigarette butts out of car windows. I want to flip their cars—or at least flip them an eagle or an owl (a.k.a. the bird). Is this a big deal—heck no. Cigarette butts are a whopping inch long in most cases. SMALL! Do you remember Lady Byrd’s “Clean Up America” campaign? The most memorable ad featured a Native American crying after someone threw a load of crap on the road. I’m pretty sure that trash that flew into the weeping man’s face was a full happy meal—not a teensy, tiny bit of used filter. So why do I get so worked up about something I wouldn’t even have noticed if the blasted fool in front of me hadn’t decided to personally wreck my day by making me a witness to the butt tossing? Again, beats the heck out of me (both mentally and physically).

And spitters… OMG. What genetic defect makes anyone think it’s okay to hawk up the most vile substances in the human body and deposit this biological asbestos any ole place?? Is this some vile method of marking one’s territory? A secret mating ritual performed to entice dung beetles?

Just to be clear, none of the above offenses affect me on any profound level, even though all perpetrators should be forced to clean up their mess—with their tongues. So why the overblown reaction? Maybe it’s a psychological thing (ya, think?). Perhaps venting over small things helps me deal with life’s real issues. Or maybe it’s the universal understanding that a few individuals don’t have the right to crap up the world the rest of us try to keep pretty.

Or maybe it’s like chocolate—you may have noticed, I have a chocolate analogy for everything. You can resist an entire fudge cake, but a bag of tiny little kisses will torment you until you consume every last one.

What about you? What mini-passions melt your chocolate?

Copyright © 2012 by Robin Weaver


Linda Lovely said...

You gave me a good chuckle this morning, Robin. My mini pet peeve focuses on dog owners who don't put their dogs on leashes and when you run/walk by them in a park at the beach, etc., and their little darlings run/bark/snarl at you, they say, "Oh, he won't hurt you." Right. I've been bitten before and I don't need that extra adrenalin push to keep me moving. Okay I need my chocolate now.

Judith Ashley said...

Hi Robin,

Wow! I thought I was the only one whose adrenaline rushed a bit when confronted with these people as well as Linda's example. Where I live, not only is there leash laws but also 'pick up the poop' laws. I'm amazed at the number of people (usually owners of small dogs) who think it doesn't apply to them. And then there are the joggers whose dogs just do their business as the owner runs along...that means its on the sidewalk! and the rest of us mere mortals have to be on the look out.

Great post - adrenaline is going and since its really Cold out today and I didn't get much sleep last night that's a good thing.


Carole St-Laurent said...

How about seeing someone empty their car ashtray in a parking lot? Don't people have no shame?

Tracy said...

Glad I ate my chocolate first so I won't vent quite as much as I might but Judith hit one of my hot buttons. Dog owners who won't pick up after their dogs. Recently, someone(s) in my neighborhood has been using two stretches of grass (which are both along the path kids take to the bus stop) as their personal dog crapping ground. Over a dozen neglected piles of crap (yes, I counted) on each stretch. Seriously, people, if it's too much trouble to pick it up, you shouldn't have a dog. I never left a dirty diaper in your yard.

I wish people wouldn't use Twitter and Facebook to share their political views ad nauseum. We get the point and you won't win converts bashing those who disagree with you. Almost makes me want a monarchy.

Oh, and I don't want to "Press one for English" when I'm in America. Do they "Have Press One for Spanish" in Mexico? or "Press One for French" in France? or even "Press one for English" in England?

Rowanne said...

Great job, Robin. Your passion shines brightly! -Ro

Judith Ashley said...

Tracy, Do you think we should take a road trip to all of these countries for research? or we could split them up...what about Spain, Italy, Australia - we've Genre-istas there and in New Zealand.

Now that you mention the telephone - being on hold forEver while minutes of commercials for products and services drone on and on and on - give me back the days of 'elevator music'!

Paty Jager said...

Great post, Robin! I get torqued by the same things. It isn't that hard to find a garbage can when you stop for gas to empty you ashtray(to keep from throwing cigarette butts) to put any garbage you had from the trip, and to go in the restroom and relieve your loogie problem.

The little mini-passion I have is people burping and not saying excuse me or passing gas and making an event of it. My son-in-law does this and drives me crazy!

Pass the chocolate, please!

Sandra Cox said...

I'm with you on the spitters. Its soooo disgusting.

Suzanne Lilly said...

My biggest mini (is that an oxymoron?) is when a person knows you're waiting for a parking spot, but they swing in front of you and swoop into the spot anyway. It makes me want to double park behind them and block them in.

Thank heavens for chocolate. I have some Hershey's kisses to share with all of us commiserating here. :-)