Nobody asked, but…
The Spelling Bee- It’s big, but it’s not quite Super Bowl big. I don’t believe anyone was hawking Spelling Bee squares, but it does get our national attention. This year was the 100th anniversary of the annual competition, and, as usual, it was won by a resolute kid of Indian descent, spelling a word none of us have ever heard or used… éclaircissement.
Just like the upcoming Nathan’s Hot Dog Eating Contest, the Scripps National Spelling Bee comes around once a year, and for a brief time, we pay attention. It’s the curiosity of people doing something we couldn’t, or wouldn’t want to do, ever.
The winning word of the first competition, back in 1925, was “gladiolus.” Even though that sounds plural, it’s actually the singular version of “gladioli,” the leafy plants with the pretty flowers. The kid that won probably knew that.
Does the ability to spell éclaircissement mean you’re a good speller, or just good at memorization? Just once, I’d like to see a kid win by spelling something that comes up in actual conversations, like mortgage, or eightieth, or, with a nod to former VP Dan Quayle… potato.
Even better, let’s have the spellers eat hot dogs, and the hot dog eaters spell. Now that, I’d watch.
Fine Print- I had to update my online banking info the other day, and, though I had other things to do, I made sure I read all the fine print included in the Online Banking Services Agreement and Disclosure document. Only then did I click the “agree” button. And that, as far as you know, is the first time I’ve lied to you today.
I did not, in fact, read all the words contained in the fine print. I counted them. Or rather, my tools function counted them… all 13,388 of them.
For all I know, my bank has the right to enter my home at any time, and take whatever they want, including my library of invaluable memorabilia I collected on my trip to Liverpool, England, home of the Beatles.
Am I too trusting… to not read the fine print? Am I at the mercy of my bank? Well, I say… bring it on, cuz the jokes on them. I’ve never even been to Liverpool! Just another lie.
Whoever came up with the 13,388 words that address every contingency imaginable, surely earned the corporate world’s most predictable honorarium… comp time.
Wife Carrying Competition- I’m referring specifically to the North American Wife Carrying Championship. It’s a sham! The very first line in the competitors rulebook is… Teammates are not required to be legally married.
That’d be like going to Presque Isle and finding out it’s not really an island. It’s the ultimate bait and switch! What’s next… Steve Lindberg’s wildlife photos are just pictures he’s cut out of National Geographic? (They’d be lucky to have them.)
If you’re going to call it a wife carrying competition, you damn well better have the guy lugging the woman he promised to love, cherish, and not drop on the way to coming in fourteenth in a meaningless, beer soaked contest of strength and humiliation.
As it turns out, I have much bigger fish to fry, so I doubt my issue with this wife carrying dispute will be the hill I die on. That’ll probably be some out-of-shape guy trying to carry his wife to the finish line, just like when he carried her over the threshold. ‘Til death do they part.
Can and Bottle Return- Back in 1976, when we started the state’s can and bottle deposit initiative, a dime had some value. If you had two of them, you could actually buy a Snickers bar. Now a dime’s only value is when you can use it as a screwdriver. It’s ten cents. It’s only nine cents away from being discontinued. Why is it still a thing? The bottle return program is probably the only reason it still exists.
Recent studies have shown a growing number of upwardly mobile types are no longer cashing in their returnables, but rather eschewing the big payday at the all too often out-of-service machines, seen above, and just doing the next best thing… recycling. These wanna-be big shots are skipping the middle man and writing it off as a zero sum game, lest they be identified with the hoi polloi. It’s a cost analysis thing, I imagine.
Not unlike the dime, this slice of life is a coin with two sides. Us regular folks can be thankful the deposit we make with our initial purchase has not risen like everything else. At the same time, we might also question the idea of storing, separating, and transporting a few bags of cans for a mere modest return on our investment. But since my name isn’t Rockefeller, or Musk, I have no intention of stopping my wife from returning our cache of cans and bottles… for a respectable cut of the take, of course. I applaud her commitment.
It’s been a long walk, but here’s my beef. The next time you hear of a valuable nonprofit collecting cans so they can continue their mission, skip the admirable donation of the remnants from your last poker night and just cut ‘em a check. It’s the right thing to do.
Graduation Celebrations- As we wrap up High School Graduation season, it brings to mind the unsettling proliferation of “graduation” celebrations.
First, let’s acknowledge, graduating from high school is an accomplishment worth applauding. Even though it’s about the last easy thing you’ll ever do in your life… at least you did it. Congrats.
And if you’ve graduated from college… even better. The distractions and challenges found in the higher education experience create a path not all have the ability to navigate. Kudos.
But, as with just about everything else in the universe, the level of recognition given for the most menial accomplishments is continually expanding. People are actually having ceremonies and celebrations for their kid’s “graduation” from kindergarten. How about we dial it back a little with an ‘atta boy’ and a run to Frosty Treats? If you’re buying balloons, hiring a clown, and serving a cake that says, “Congratulations Saige… You’re Gonna Rock First Grade,” you have set the bar way too low.
I’m all for positive reinforcement, but if this trend continues, a whole new cottage industry will be upon us, with a Hallmark card that celebrates successful potty-training. I’m thinking something like… “Way to Go… in the Toilet!” Do we really need that?
Comedy Night at the Brewery- The next time one of our craft brew pubs hosts a comedy night, they should call it a Brew Ha Ha.
As it turns out, there might be a good reason why nobody asked. I should have included a little more éclaircissement. Next time.