Captain Me Planet

Dear Most Grumpy Sir,

You either do not realize, or maybe you do not care, that I saw the quite ugly looks you continued to give me, my son, and the very hard working check out lady, as we did not move with the speed you seemed to wish.

Possibly, you were concerned about the state of your filets, and the threat of their reaching room temperature. Maybe the smart hat upon your head was beginning to cause an ache there, or the shiny shoes were pinching your wittle toes. The lovely flowers most surely needed a vase, and fast, and there is the possiblity that the person for whom they were chosen, is an impatient, testy type, also. That just maybe, you feared a wrath for not being on time. I am so sorry. That is a miserable existence to live.

However, the lady that was working her fingers across the keys of the register as quickly as she was able. And it was an accident that she rang up my order incorrectly. And climbing from the front of the cart to the back is just something that Private Three does, and it has not proven disastrous yet. Yes I’ve seen the safety precautions on the cart. Who over wrote them hasn’t gone shopping with my 5 year old. He really really wants to help put the goods on the rolling belt. He thinks that is great. Perhaps you would like to take him shopping and order him not to move for upwards of an hour. I don’t think your hat would remain so smart.

And our bagging our own groceries? Yes. I could see you thought that was ridiculous. But maybe you didn’t notice, that no one else was present for the task, so without our jumping in, you may still be standing behind us. Waiting. Angrily. Disgusted. Casting askew glances at that lady correcting the incorrect entries. A lady that is there everytime I am, which sadly, is nearly 7 days a week. I think of things like that when I get short with people. You know, walk in their shoes and all. I’d really hope people would be understanding with me. Especially if I were new. An if I were there nearly every day of the week, I’d be missing my family. Tired of standing on my feet. And most likely, unable to afford the fine filets that I check out, over and over, for very nasty people who shouldn’t maybe get to eat such a nice cut of meat.

Now that’s an idea. What if we could enjoy life according to our good done in it? Oh, no. Better yet, according to our attitudes toward it? It would be the world I’m always griping it should be. The one where the fabulous teachers, and dedicated parents earn the highest salaries. And the nurses that change the soiled sheets of people too ill or too old to help themselves. The others that help new moms, in the throws of labor for the first time, feel that the pains may not kill them. The volunteers, the pastors, and Sunday School teachers.

The steriod-pumped, often lude and over indulged sports star would earn according to his/her attitude. Maybe somewhere in the low teens. If he’d commited a crime of manslaughter or worse, and also possibly had a recording contract, maybe somewhere around 10K. Rap artists who perpetuate soft porn, and worse, they may earn in the neighborhood of 7K. Or maybe they’d have to actually pay to run that racket. They wouldn’t get to star on Law and Order. The white collar criminals who embezzle, who cheat, and ruin another’s future? They definitely owe. They may not even draw a salary. But grandparents who help their child raise their child? At least 100K. People who adopt? Parents who don’t give up on an ill child? Even more. Just my opinion. But maybe, I’m on to something.

We so clearly, as a society, accept and endorse and compensate most highly what is worthwhile to us. That is why it is frightening to me to just turn our children over to our culture. We so obviously do not value the education of our children. Otherwise, we’d do better than 35K for a very experienced, degreed teacher. We’d make him/her the highest financial priority. Because it matters. All the rheotoric flying among politicians about no child being left behind turns my stomach. And that’s just about reading and math test scores. It has nothing to do with addressing the often violent, bullying and opressive environment of so many schools in our nation. And those of us sacrificing to raise children who actually learn right from wrong, how to take responsibilty for themselves, and care about the people around them? We’d have more than we know what to do with. Because these are the things of the future that matters. Madonna reaching 55 and getting enough Botox to pass for 40 is really not relevant. Not at all. No matter how many red strings of the newly adopted Kabalah she’s sporting. Now she’s talking spirituality and the consequences our culture may reap…Did she always have that slight Brittish accent? I thought she was from Jersey…

So. Mr Grumpy. You are on borrowed time. Because if I ever get to run the world, and I see someone with your attitude again, we’ll have to share words. And if you just had a bad day, then you can just tell someone you’re sorry for being an ass. If I ever get my way, the way you behave, will matter. Directly. And our pocket books will notice the difference. And the next time you are in the check out, you’ll be the one on the receiving end, helping that lady with the gnarled hands, get her filets loaded into her bag. And you’ll carry them to her car, load them, chauffer her home, help her prop her feet up, and prepare those filets for her. To her liking. And I bet you’ll have learned how to be patient. Smile with some compassion when someone takes more time than you think should be alloted. And when I come through, I’ll try really hard to keep Private Three off the card machine. But I can’t make any promises. Just hope you can be tolerant. If not, you’re going to get docked, you know. And you’re coming to my house to finish cleaning the toilets.