At one time in the teacher’s lounge at Lakeside Elementary School, these words were posted: “Thou shall not whine.”
Sorry boys and girls, but I’m going to break that commandment now.
On Saturday, January 23 in the Richmond Times-Dispatch, I read the following headline: ‘Bigfoot’ hunting season sought in Oklahoma. (From wire reports)
Yes, a state lawmaker in Oklahoma wants to create legislation to allow a hunting season that would coincide with a Bigfoot festival held in the forest of the Ouachita Mountains each year. The legislator sees a hunting license for Bigfoot as a boost for tourism.
Perhaps, Representative Justin Humphrey has forgotten or never heard these words from another famous person from Oklahoma, Will Rogers: “I don’t make jokes. I just watch the government and report the facts.”
In an attempt to insure that my body will be properly prepared for my annual physical in April, I recently purchased a pack of sweet Italian sausages at Kroger. I figure anything I can do to assist my doctor to buy another vacation home is good for the economy.
Perhaps I missed this change in how foods are categorized, but I was surprised to see a sticky label on the sausage packaging that said “seafood.”
Does this mean these sausages were made in a kitchen environment where seafood was present?
Or, does this indicate Kroger needs to revamp its food group identification training for employees? Maybe, Kroger should seek the counsel of third graders about food group categories.
And while we are talking about food groups, lets talk about beer, you know liquid bread.
As a long time follower of the craft beer industry, I am still in shock over the Total Wine insert in the January 17 edition of the Richmond Times-Dispatch.
On page 7 of that insert, three well-established craft brewers had photos of their low-calorie beers.
Unbelievable, craft brewers brewing low-calorie beers. For brewers who worked so hard to establish their independence and to shun the footprints of the beers made by the big box brewers— this is a disappointment.
And with the hype of the Super Bowl upon us, here is another disappointment. For some reason, National Football League Commissioner, Roger Goodell, continues to ignore my pleas for changing the rules on how a touchdown can be scored.
Mr. Commissioner, eliminate the rules that allow a player to score a touchdown by breaking the plane of the goal line or diving to touch an orange pylon on the corners of the goal line. To score a touchdown, a player’s entire body must be in the end zone with the football intact—nothing else.
On Friday, January 22, my wife, the Commander Supreme, ventured to our local post office branch. She was mailing a package to her mother who resides in West Hartford, Connecticut.
The Commander paid for two-day Priority Mail. As of today’s date, Tuesday, January 26, the package is in Las Vegas, Nevada.
Not counting Friday, this is day four. We could have driven the package up the east coast in one day.
From Richmond to Las Vegas is 2,405 miles, and Las Vegas to West Hartford is 2,621 miles, and of course, Richmond to West Hartford is a mere 452 miles.
I am truly thankful for our postal workers. And, I am sure some postal executive has a reasonable explanation for Richmond to Las Vegas to West Hartford, but I’m not buying any explanation that defies the logic of real fifth grade geography.
And I know you will be disappointed that you missed it, but Monday, January 25 was National Bubble Wrap Appreciation Day. I’ll be sure to mark that on my calendar for next year.
But alas, keep your composure, don’t be too downhearted because the most important national appreciation day will be here on Sunday, December 26, 2021—National Whiners Day.
According to the website National Day Calendar, National Whiners Day was established in 1986 by Reverend Kevin Zaborney.
The good reverend created this day with the hope of encouraging people to be thankful for what they have instead of being unhappy “whining” about what they do not have.
I know that I’m a whiner.
But in truth, I have no right to whine.
Here are some reasons, I should not whine.
Believe it or not, and despite my still growing list of imperfections, I know that I am surrounded by love. Some people in our world will never experience love.
I can go to my kitchen sink, turn on the faucet, and pour a glass of clean, fresh water. Not everyone can do that in 2021.
A long time ago, in the first grade at Elon Elementary School, my teacher, Mrs. Hughes, taught me to read. Try as we might, illiteracy has not been solved.
Within easy driving and walking distance to our home, there are six grocery stores. And yet, food deserts are plentiful in our community.
I live in an imperfect country that sometimes struggles with its understanding of freedom. But, I am free to write this gibberish. In some countries that freedom doesn’t exist.
Sure, whining might make me feel better.
But here is the question I need to ask myself—is my whining helping to solve any of the millions of challenges we face?
I know the answer is no.
I need to stop the energy burn on whining.
That energy must be redirected.
I wonder if I can do that?