By Dr. Kenneth Love
An Analysis Of Several Societal Idiosyncrasies:
1. Whenever someone ‘shoots me the bird’, gives me the middle finger, or grants me any unrequested display of a similar symbol in representation of their sudden discontent with me, my existence, or the fact that I may be borrowing a bit, or perhaps even more than my fair share of their air space, I no longer view this as a personal derogatory gesture or a personal attack on me. No…instead, I presume, and non-judgmentally so I might add, that this individual was trying to, alternatively, elevate his or her index finger, but likely due to a sudden cramp, bout of arthritis, or the early onset of Cardiomyopathy, was only able to display his or her third (middle) finger to me, with his or her intent to proclaim me as a #1 Stand Up Guy.
2. When someone exhibits road rage toward me, particularly, during Texas summers on I-35 in start-maybe go-no stop-stop again traffic, or worse, on back country roads, I view their curse words, cursings, and outright cussing outs as their having found the time to be useful and are attempting to create a new communicable language.
3. Although this no longer affects me since I’m now married, but in support of single men everywhere, those religious “God-fearing” women who assert as much on their social network pages, then “fear” rejection or longer singlehood by uploading 25-year-old Polaroid shots that not only look, but ARE faded, then expect men to “have mercy” on more than their souls when they finally meet (I know…I’m going to pay DEARLY for this one, but I’ve got some chilled stuff waiting in the fridge to ease the pain).
4. When I’m on FaceBook, Twitter, Black Planet, or any other social networking site, attempting to do my daily due diligence of ‘adding friends,’ on occasion, some guys will respond, “Hey, bro, are you gay? Because, I don’t usually accept ‘adds’ or ‘invites’ from dudes, but go ahead…just this once.” By the way…these gentlemen usually have only 9 or so friends on their page, with the majority of their voluminous photos being pictures of their motorcycle or favorite pet, so I’m at a loss as to why they are into rejection.
5. Realizing that I can no longer blame the young guys totally who “sag” their pants, as they likely have a relative who is a plumber. In advance, and before the cussing even begins, my apology to plumbers everywhere, including the ones on Mars and Pluto.
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