Writer’s block. I had it bad a few days ago. So bad in fact, I went to a local séance for some inspiration; perhaps a Muse would appear and give me an idea. Sitting around the table, with the Medium admonishing all of us to concentrate, an apparition suddenly appeared. It was Andy Rooney, my Muse had arrived! Apparently Shakespeare, Dante and even PJ O’Rourke were busy.
Mr. Rooney’s image hovered over me and I could almost reach out and touch those bushy eyebrows. Then, in his high pitched, recognizable nasal voice, he asked me, “You know what I really hate?”
“No,” I feebly responded.
“Well, I hate it when the weatherman tells me how much, or how little it’s going to snow or rain, then feels compelled to advise me of my footing. ‘Be careful when walking on the slick sidewalk,’ or ‘Tread lightly when walking on the ice.’ Then, if that’s not bad enough, he tells me how to dress. ‘It’s going to be hot out there today, so wear cool, loose fitting clothes.’ I’ve been dressing myself for years, thank you. I just want to know the weather forecast. I don’t need a nanny.”
He went on.
“I also hate it when a bank, or a business or a municipal building decides to fly the American Flag at half mast, for whatever reason they feel they need to. According to official US Flag etiquette, ‘the United States flag flies at half-staff (or half-mast) when the nation or a state is in mourning, or certain federal holidays such as Memorial Day. The president, through a presidential proclamation, a state governor, or the mayor of the District of Columbia can order flags to fly at half-staff.’ That’s it. So fly the flag at full staff, and while you’re at it, replace it if it’s tattered.”
My Muse was on a roll.
“You know what else I hate? How come charging stations for EV’s take up all the best parking spots? Aren’t people who drive EV’s worried about the environment? Shouldn’t they be walking more? Like from the far end of the lot? Last year I broke my hip and the DMV issued me a temporary handicap parking tag. If I drove an EV, would that allow me to actually park inside the store?”
Then with disgust he glared at me and asked, “But you know what I really hate? When a two-bit, wannabe columnist steals my shtick!”
