Facebook seems to be the place where a lot of people I know just post these little messages. I don't know where they get them from, some are funny and some are too good not to pass on.
I rather like this one. It reminds me of something that Dr. Phil would have said. Maybe he did say this.
But, it's TRUE. I think there probably should have been another sign that reminded people that:
PEOPLE KEEP DOING WHAT THEY ARE DOING BECAUSE THEY ARE GETTING SOMETHING OUT OF IT.
Like Bart Simpson, who keeps banging his head against a wall, people who do what appears to be STUPID things are getting some emotional charge out of doing it. They like the physical pain, they like the drama it creates, they like feeling like a victim, I'm not sure what their reward is for the behavior.
It seems like a sad way to live your life, doesn't it?
Yesterday, it seemed like there were an unusually large number of self-centered, egotistical people out and about. John is far more forgiving of bad behavior than I am. He takes the "high" road, ignoring it. I don't want to play Miss Manners on stage or screen but since some Mama didn't do it, somebody needs to sort things out.
John jokes that he expects to read about me in the Verona Press, under the Police report,
"Older woman stopped outside of Verona after having followed a car that cut her off, in the Round-A-Bout. The woman, unhurt but furious said she was simply alerting the driver with poor driving manners by sounding her horn, for six blocks. The police officer suggested that this might seem like road rage. The officer also reported that the older woman gave HIM a stern look and said in an equally stern voice, "Some people need to be sorted, you understand."
Paoli is simply a little spot, not even a town with a big square park and some buildings and St. Williams church set on all four sides of the square. There is an old mill with some tiny little stone buildings that house galleries, a bar, of course and cheese shot, remember it is Wisconsin and a little brat shop.
The Brat shop was one of two places selling food yesterday. You stepped in the door took two steps forward and you were at the counter. The counter was long enough to hold five typical older Wisconsinites. Probably 10 teenagers but there weren't any of those around. You stepped in the door, kept to the right and shuffled your way down the counter, placing your order when you got to the end and the register.
Riley and I decided that we didn't need to be inside the place, taking up precious room once John knew what we wanted to eat. We went outside to find a table. Odds and ends of furniture had been placed outside, the meat was cooked, as ordered on a regular charcoal grill and you waited. Lines were long, people were hungry but that's how it was set up. Even though this fair isn't new to Paoli they haven't quite worked out the kinks for the number of people that it does draw.
They forgot to cook Riley's hotdog, they forgot to bring my ice tea but the pulled pork was delicious and all can be forgiven on a beautiful day. And, John forgave the lady that came in the door and pushed her way to the end of the line to order. Well, the forgiveness helped when her husband pulled her back in line.
See, I have a hard time understanding the mentality of a person that just thinks they can butt ahead in a line, or zoom up in a merge line and push their way to the front. Where did they grow up? Who told them that they were so special that lines and good manners didn't apply to them? John says, "Well, maybe she didn't notice." NOTICE WHAT? The long line outside, the slow shuffle to the left of the people at the counter? Sweetheart, I've got a four year old sitting here that is hungry and she's waiting patiently for her lunch, you can just get back in line and wait to order yours.
It really doesn't hurt to smile, people. Life is so short. So, to the lady, taking her child, out of the car seat, next to my car and stopping in mid unbuckling to talk to her friend on the other side of the car, I know you see me standing here. I know you know I want to get into my car but your door is blocking my way. If you even bothered to LOOK at me you would see I was smiling and I would tell you to take your time, it's ok. But you didn't. You took YOUR time. Then walked right by me, practically brushing my shoulder without looking at me, without smiling, nothing. Zip. Nada.
I got in the car and just sat there trying to figure out what's going through her head. How does she see herself and her behavior. Her daughters were standing behind me, at the back of the van, waiting for her. What did they think of her lack of friendliness?
While waiting, I smiled at the young girls. They smiled back. Their mother? Not a happy person. But I guess ignoring me gave her something in return. Sadly, I can't imagine what and I hope I never really can.
But, Round-A-Bouts are an entirely different story.