who ARE you?

This is less about introspection... who ARE you in the sense of shock/awe/ironic horror at the existence and/or life situation of some people. In the last day, I shook my head at:

--Prominent local newspaper columnist, who consistently includes at least one sentence-paragraph that makes NO SENSE when read the first time, and only sort of seems to be a coherent thought by the third reading or so. In fact, I find myself having to re-read sentences and even whole articles in the newspaper for NOT MAKING ANY SENSE or NOT SEEMING TO HAVE A POINT. I don't know whether to blame the writers or their editors more, but I, former high school newspaper editor, would feel uncomfortable publishing a lot of what goes into the Mountain Time Zone's Most Influential Newspaper(s). (the parenthetical plural is because Denver has two major papers, but they have this weird joint operating agreement where they share classified ad revenue and only release one combined edition on weekend days)

--People who write letters to the editor. I know they're selected for being controversial and all, but most of them make me wish I could resolve policy debates by smacking people upside the head. After reading missives on immigration reform, for example, I wonder if maybe there are people out there who have no idea how the world around them functions and have no curiosity or desire to understand anything or anyone around them. Grr.

--Some of the people doing open-mic standup comedy last night. Tuesdays at the Squire, a bar on Colfax, feature a parade of aspiring comics; after Punk Rock Bingo Night at the Lion's Lair was a no-go, we made it to the Squire in time to catch probably a dozen acts. Some of them were funny, some of them bombed and left the stage after two minutes, it was a generally good time. There was a guy who had apparently been on the Tonight Show, who bombed horribly, a guy who was apparently touring the country, who was pretty funny, and a guy who went to high school with my cousin Will, who was the end-of-the-night headliner. We didn't see any woman perform, although that's another conversation we can have later. Except for some of the jokes, which were awful and offensive to a nearly jaw-dropping extent. I recognize (and have defended) the role of offensiveness in humor, but I guess we all draw the line somewhere. Let's just say that the guy "I have like fifteen abortion jokes, and we've only really made it through three... should I talk about something else?", the guy who attempted to address "the Mexicans" of Denver, and the guy who explained his first line with "It's OK, my wife is Chinese" weren't high on my scorecard. I guess, at least most of the stuff that was awkward for me was awkward for everyone--two of the three acts I just cited were received with silent stares--but I know that as long as society places boundaries on what can be said in polite company, those boundaries will be pushed in spaces like that. In the balance, there were enough funny people that we'll probably come back next tuesday, but, damn, open mic brings out some awfulness.

--On the drive back from crashing at my cousin's this morning, I was sitting in traffic on a pretty major street, but a street in a nice residential neighborhood, with a park-like median, large trees shading the road, and expensive homes on either side. The woman in the SUV in front of me throws something indeterminate out the window into the median. A piece of bagel? A cigarette butt? A clump of hair? I have no idea, but I was stunned by how trashy that was. Like really, who does that anymore? I kept trying to rationalize it as not-exactly-litter, but...

--Other drivers. Not everyone, but a lot of people (incl. at least one family member of mine); the problem seems to be a difference in driving style. Basically, I'm of the opinion that everyone should have a first car that 1. is a stick 2. has a bad transmission and 3. has underpowered brakes. Not because such a car is unsafe or something sick like that--it's just that my car is like that, and I think the habits that such a car ingrains in you are good ones. The bad manual transmission means you have to pay attention to shifting and that you want to avoid shifting as much as possible. The bad brakes mean that you want to start to slow down earlier and slow down more gradually. Automatics seem to encourage abrupt starts and stops, and I enjoy those neither as a passenger nor when I'm on the road myself. I read on wikipedia that the prevalence of manual transmissions in Europe is responsible for things as big as city planning--ring roads and the like, which favor constant speeds, instead of grids, which favor stop-and-go--and, as someone who prefers a manual (and someone who prefers how much cheaper manual cars are), I gotta say that there's a little resentment toward the US system.

I think that's enough ranting for today.