Perplexed
When you’re on an airplane, why does the pilot or flight attendant, after giving you the normal information, say, “...sit back, relax, and enjoy the flight.” What am I supposed to enjoy? The turbulence at 30,000 feet that makes the plane rock and my blood pressure skyrocket? Or is it the kid who is screaming and/or crying from the time he boards the plane until it lands? Or maybe it’s being crammed into a row of seats that was designed for people 4’5” tall or less. Just get me up in the air and back on the ground in one piece. That’s all the enjoyment I get out of flying.
Why would you take a medication advertised on TV that hopefully can provide relief for one particular condition but has 48 possible side effects including one that includes death? I guess it’s just a roll of the dice and you hope for the best.
Why is it that when you get to your car in a large parking lot such as at a mall, grocery store, or restaurant, that the person parked next to you arrives at the same time that you do? Nothing like squeezing into your car to avoid banging doors after waiting for the person to find their keys, get the kids in the car or load whatever they purchased.
If you’re a radio channel changer like me, why is it that when you find a song that you like, it’s always at the end but when there’s a song that you hate, it’s always at the beginning? Case in point---Na Na Na Na Na Na Na Na, Hey Hey Good Bye, Na Na Na Na Na Na Na Na, Hey Hey Good Bye (repeat this verse for 5 more minutes). I always find this song when it first starts. Whoever wrote it should be sentenced to life in Tijuana.
How can your timing be so precise to pick the day that traffic would come to a standstill or a maximum speed of 5 MPH because of construction on a road that you seldom or ever travel?
Whenever traveling by auto and you make a wrong turn or need to reverse direction, why is there always a sign saying No U-Turn when you realize your mistake? Do traffic engineers actually know where you’re most likely to screw up and to add to your frustration they arrange for you to go farther out of the way by making it illegal to turn around?
The auto issues list could be endless because I live in California where people think you have a 30 second grace period when a traffic light turns red. In the interest of time, I will conclude so that whoever reads this can move on to the next essay on oldartguy.com. It was probably written by someone with less complaints and more patience.
enough