Offensive…

I’ve been reading with something that passes for interest about the furor sparked by Adidas’ plan to sell a shoe with a built in shackle. I’m not about to sully my pristine pages here by wading into the ridiculous race debate we seem to treat as a national sport, but I couldn’t let the moment pass without throwing in a couple of cents on what I see as the bigger issue this highlights.

I almost feel bad bringing this up, but none of us, not you, not me, not your great aunt Fannie, are guaranteed to walk through life not being offended. It’s a big, cold world out there and eventually someone is going to say or do something that’s going to hurt your tender feelings or cause you to see something that you find vile, contemptuous, or downright smutty. To that, all I can say is the biggest possible “so what?”

If a company offends your sensibilities, hey feel free to stop handing them your hard earned money. If a friend, neighbor, or some random person on the street says something off color, feel free to ignore them… or better yet, say something equally offensive back at them. I hear Facebook is a particularly effective platform for bitching and moaning about what’s gone wrong with your life. Starting your own blog, of course, elevates you to the level of an almost professional crank.

Trust me, I’m the last person on earth who wants to take away anyone’s inalienable right to gripe and complain. I just wish we could all collectively grow a pair or at least take a shot at building up a little thicker skin. Personally I think we’re collectively making way too big a deal over a shoe that’s, if we’re all honest, just plain ugly as sin anyway.

Goddamn wine in a box…

One of my personal favorite phrases and one that doesn’t get enough use once I left Frostburg, is the venerable “Goddamn wine in a box.” The phrase was coined when a friend blamed the consumption of, not surprisingly, a box of wine for sleeping with a girl we all affectionately called “Dumpy.” As best I can remember, she sort of looked like a bullfrog. What can I say, young adults can be a cruel lot when they’re traveling in a pack. And when the inevitable question “how could you sleep with Dumpy” was asked, I suppose the only natural response could be, “I don’t know, man… it was that goddamn wine in a box.” To this day, when I see a box of wine, I smirk and then laugh. *sighs* Thanks for the memories.