Comment with Caution

I've certainly adopted the attitude of "if you can't win, join them" when it comes to the new media revolution. I blog (with less-than-stellar regularity) and twitter (who doesn't have time for a 140-character tweet now and then), Facebook and Digg (are these all verbs now?). I even find myself scrolling down to the bottom of real news stories to see what other readers think of this or that story, and once in a while add my own two-cents to these transient, much-ado-about-nothing debates.

I've found that some of these people are really, really stupid. And these so-called debates are really just ways to vent and rage. (That's what blogs and right-wing radio talk shows are for.)

Find any weather story about a cold snap or maybe a spate of rainstorms, like we've had in Denver over the last few weeks. Scroll down to the comments. Invariably, there some moron who interjects that such and such an event just goes to show you that global warming and climate change are bunk, some sort of leftist (and, now, Obama) conspiracy to steal tax dollars. For what purpose? It's never really clear. Maybe so GOP, Bible-wielding politicians like Gov. Sanford can go bang hot South American chicks on the public teat. Mmmm ... South American teats ...

Seriously, weather and climate are two different topics, but there's no convincing some people. I just hope these people have luxury homes on the Florida coast.

That's Crap

First, I should preface the following by saying I like dogs (and even kids) and maybe some day I'll own a pooch again (and possibly an 18-year-old house girl). I guess it's really some dog owners that completely piss me off.

So, I'm in the kitchen. The front door is open, with the glass door closed, so I can see in front of our house. A woman is walking her dog, stops to chat with our neighbor, and her mutt starts to do the squat dance, preparing to unload in front of my house -- on the concrete! OK. She was swift and deft at picking up the excrement, but who lets her animal s**t right on the sidewalk like that?

And why do most dog owners assume their flea bag is so lovable that we're all happy when it runs up on us (unleashed, of course), muddy and wet, its big black nose like a ballistic missile to the crotch. An unleashed dog has often come close to taking me and my bike out, if not for some extreme defensive riding on my part -- I just assume all manner of man and beast is out to kill me when I'm peddling. It's the only way to stay alive.

While I'm gripping about pets, let's talk about kids (many of whom could stand to be on a leash, frankly): When did parents start buying these SUV-sized strollers? They're fine for the sidewalk, I guess, but not in crowded farmers markets, or at the mosh pit that passed for a book sale at the Denver Public Library this past weekend. (See my book club blog on this.) There are other options for hauling your little munchkins around. Maybe try a saddle on the family dog.

Self Service for Dummies

I don't remember when gas stations became almost entirely self-service in this country. (I say "almost" because I assume there must be some Mayberry, USA, where Gomer still pumps your fuel and stutters "golly.") I suppose it marked the beginning of the end of our service-oriented society/culture/ economy, where you only get personalized service like that in places where you have to leave a tip. On our trip to Costa Rica in March, I was a little surprised that gas stations still employed people at the pumps -- but perhaps it's a way to keep folks employed in a country light on industry and heavy in agriculture and tourism.

One place were I think the self-service concept has gone too far is the grocery store. At first, the idea seemed like a good one. After all, any idiot can scan a few barcodes and bag his own groceries, right?

Yeah, not really.

Have you watched these people in front of you struggle with how to scan a loaf of bread or which slot to stick their greenbacks in? It's like watching an IQ test for zombies. But I don't blame it all on human error. The scanners, at least until recently, seemed dumbed down like the GPS satellite network used to be before it became a commercial enterprise and not reserved for military-industrial operations. Looking up an item alphabetically, while superficially simple, has many nuances. Are the green beans listed under "b" for beans or "g" for green beans. Using your own bags? Boy, does that piss off the machine: "Unknown item in bagging area!"

I estimate it takes me two to three times longer to check myself out versus a clerk, who, for all his faults, has an encyclopedic memory for four-digit codes related to beets, bananas and berries.

On the other hand, if I could save 20 percent of my bill by refilling my own mug of beer and picking up my own plate of food, I'd be happy to hit the self-service line -- bar codes, bagging area violations and all.