BITS AND PIECES
Let’s lighten things up. The past couple of Weekly Post-Eds have been on the heavier side, and I’m personally in need of some humor. Over the past couple of weeks, I’ve written down bits and pieces of ideas that don’t quite fit into a typical WP, but are amusing nonetheless. What follows are a trio of obtuse observations I’ve scribbled on notepads nearby. Sit back, take a load off, and enjoy!
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EVERYONE GETS A TROPHY
“Everybody gets a trophy these days.”
I hear this phrase periodically, which is too often. It’s a generational complaint, bemoaning the ease of acquiring trophies—which, apparently is worth complaining about. Usually, this ire is aimed at kids in organized sports who bring home excessive hardware simply for showing up. Rewards, according to this criticism, should only go to those who are EXCEPTIONAL and have EARNED a trophy with hard work and MVP performances.
Showing up doesn’t count.
Although, I’d argue surviving a weekend sports tournament for all involved is worth a participation trophy. From the parents who shuttle kids across state, check into a hotel populated with other screaming kids, buy expensive meals, and race around to team-building activities, knowing full-well work still comes around Monday morning…
Those parents deserve a trophy.
As for the kids: they deserve one, too. Sometimes, I think about the sheer volume that kids are required to scream at—the minimum decibel just to be heard has gone up at a rate rivaling inflation. It isn’t easy to survive the gauntlet of the social pecking order on a kids’ sports team.
Trophies might get handed out to anyone participating, but there’s hierarchy of who is deemed cool or cringey by those on the team.
Will Tommy be cool because he scores the goals? Is he funny? Does his parents turn a blind eye to swear words?
Or will Tommy be the oddball on the team that his parents just wanted to join in order to “gain social skills”. Does Tommy smell? Do the rest of the kids know how much money Tommy’s mom or dad makes? Are his parents still together?
Who cares about athletic achievement—here’s a trophy just for existing in the cesspool of judgmental, twerpy kids. It’s like competing on a reality show EVERYWHERE.
Still, it doesn’t matter: The criticism of kids being handed out trophies is catchy.
“What will these kids learn if they’re handed trophies for everything? How will they handle adversity?”
These trophy gatekeepers are absolutely right. Only heroic deeds deserving enough should be awarded trophies
As it is for adults.
Consider the trophies that adults earn today:
The “I haven’t had fast food in 4 days, so I’m going to treat myself to a Baconator” Trophy.
Or the coveted:
“I’ve worked really hard recently and deserve a new set of golf clubs because my old ones hurt my handicap” Award.
And who can forget the esteemed recognition of:
“It’s the holiday weekend; I don’t have to move from this couch if I don’t want to” Peace Prize
Listen: Trophies are a big deal in the adult world and should be cherished by children.
Just, ignore all the trophies sold at yard sales during the summertime—those don’t count.
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DID YOU NOTICE ME BEING NICE? WELL—DID YOU??
I stood in line at the cashier of a gas station, waiting to purchase two bags of ice. It was a long wait because I gave my spot away to a woman who thought the line began perpendicular to the rest of us lining up. Surely, she would repay her social stupidity with speeding up her checkout.
No such luck.
I’ve found whenever I give away my spot in line, it’s to someone who has a laundry list of scratch-off lottery tickets to buy. Not just any brand–specific lotto scratch-offs with a specific number of each to purchase, as though the odds of winning relied on some cheat code that tricks the system. My nicety turned into a five minute wait and I felt the misery of summer heat seeping a familiar lesson into my wrinkled brain:
“This is why it doesn’t pay to be nice.”
Behind me, a lanky guy in a muscle top with Jesus Christ Super Star hair down to his shoulders picked up a gas-station branded travel mug, examining the quality (I’m guessing out of boredom while we waited for the lotto ticket lady).
“Going to buy that?” asked a different guy in work khakis and a blue-checkered button-up behind Jesus Christ Super Star. The line had snaked to the back of the gas station, all of us psychically cursing the lotto lady holding up the line.
Jesus Christ Super Star smiled. “I was thinking about buying it.”
“Look at that,” said the guy in khakis, “a smile! You never see that anymore.”
Jesus Christ Super Star said, “You really don’t. It’s like, why not? Don’t people smile anymore?”
“I smile and say hello to everyone,” said the guy in khakis. “It could brighten someone’s day, you know?”
“I say the same thing,” agreed Jesus Christ Super Star. “You never know what someone is going through. A smile might be the thing they need.”
In the front of me: The pile of lottery tickets. Behind me: Jesus Christ Super Star and khaki guy discussing smiles. Out loud.
This was hell.
“A smile could save someone’s life,” said Khaki guy.
“Seriously man, it could!” said Jesus Christ Super Star.
Mercifully, it was my turn after lotto lady slung her Santa’s sack of lotto tickets over her shoulder and toted out the door. I paid for my bags of ice, speeding to get away from the smile guys.
“Well, keep on smiling man. You’re making the world a better place,” said Jesus Christ Super Star.
“You, too. Thanks for making today better,” said the guy in khakis.
Now, how is possible to hear a conversation about spreading kindness and wish these two guys would get trampled by a parade of bulldozers? Maybe I was just bitter, or tainted with vitriol because I—get this—don’t smile at everyone like Jesus Christ Super Star does.
Then it hit me, why all the talk about smiles was dubious:
“Because being nice doesn’t have to be explained!” I shouted in the car, not smiling (an important detail). “You can be nice without having to explain it like Jesus trying to sell a self-help book! You don’t have to explain obvious shit!”
Which is like explaining any other kind act: “Good thing I held open that door, otherwise it would have closed before you could walk through.”
Being kind is the highest aspiration—just don’t advertise how great it is when doing it.
You don’t get a trophy for that, either.
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BRUSHING ON THE TOILET
This last segment is about admiration.
While brushing my teeth before heading to bed, I suddenly had to use the toilet. Since I wasn’t finished brushing, I sat on the toilet and did both: Brushing while sitting down.
Nothing out of the ordinary, except for a sudden realization while brushing back and forth over my bicuspids at the same time as loosening my bowels.
“Huh,” I considered. “That is much more impressive than it looks.”
So, I salute all the hardworking professionals of the porn industry out there. Thanks for making the world a sexier place.
Of which, yes, there are trophies for this also.
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- “Shaking the Can” by Peach Fuzz
- “It Gets Better” by Jaguar Suns and Husbands
- “Stupid Heart” by Kira Isabella
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Wishing everyone as well as you can be. You’re not alone out there,
