Tuesday, April 12, 2011

My inner curmudgeon speaks #1

curmudgeon: n. a bad-tempered, cantankerous old man. (Webster).

I plan to become a curmudgeon. It's been a long-held, secret desire that I've been saving for old age. Having spent my life being the anti-curmudgeon, it will be a nice change of pace. I immodestly declare that I've earned the privilege to be difficult.

Hence, I start off a new thread, calling this post "My inner curmudgeon speaks #1," indicating that there will be more. Think Lionel Barrymore, sitting in his wheelchair, snarling and shaking his cane at people.

What prompted me to begin this today was overhearing a conversation at the next table in a restaurant. Two young women were giving their order to the waiter. "I can't decide whether to do the Cobb salad with tofu or . . . no, I think I'm going to do the burrito," one said.

I'm going to do the burrito? What the hell does that mean?

Thirty minutes later, the waiter will check back, glance at their plates and ask, "Are you still working on that?"
Arrrggggghhhhh. When did enjoying a meal become work? And if it's work, why are we paying for it instead of being paid?

This, by the way, is a moderately upscale vegetarian restaurant, white tablecloths, heavy flatware; upper middle class neighborhood; educated, successful clientele.

My inner anti-curmudgeon tells me that I may be showing my ignorance of pop culture (aka television). This may be the way people talk on some wildly popular tv series that I never watch. Or maybe it's chic chat among the hard-working political aides on Capitol Hill.

So be it. I don't care if I am the Troglodyte of Sandy Springs. It is an affront to my language sensibilities to "do" a burrito and to "work" on my lunch.

Bah, humbug !!

Ralph

4 comments:

  1. Keep growling, Neocurmudgeon. . . it may not effect change but it does make one feel better in the face of the world's encroaching irrationalities. TD

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  2. I suppose I haven't won my curmudgeon stripes yet, though. All I'm doing is ranting here in the safety of my computer. Naturally, I kept mum in the restaurant and pretended to be a good fellow diner, absorbed in my New York Times -- while "working" on my curried veggies over brown rice.

    PS: I finished the job on the veggies and then "did" a big piece of carrot cake.

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  3. You have me ROTFL ('rolling on the floor laughing' for the Troglodytes) ;)

    It's an admirable start, but you have a lot of leash left to go: see Lewis Black's commentaries on The Daily Show, and Clint Eastwood's character in 'Gran Torino'. I say, let it erupt! (Particularly if you can keep that humor about you, but even if not.)
    ;)

    Barbara

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  4. Keep at it. Soon you'll be running around the restaurant farting and pinching the old ladies. I know it's in you. Let it run free!

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