Wednesday, October 06, 2010

Misplaced Anger

     So I was really anger the other day, Company.  I was really angry about something; something in particular.  And I mean really angry - super angry.  I had my feathers all in an uproar and was set to get up on my soapbox and pontificate about some subject that had me all upset.  But at the time, I didn't do anything about it.  I thought to myself "Self, you can write about it in a day or two.  You will still be angry in a day or two."  And I would assume that I am still angry about that particular subject.  I just wish that I could remember what it was.
     Yeah, that's right.  Brain fart.  Senior moment.  I guess that I don't care what you call it but I had one.  I don't remember what I was angry about.  I don't remember what had me all in an uproar for like two days.  I seem to think that vaguely it had to do with cheerleaders and their uniforms, but I am not sure that it is.  See, I read an article about some cheerleaders in Connecticut who stormed into a Bridgeport School Board meeting and demanded that they have less revealing uniforms.  Now that's cool.  Then the article went on to say that a study among college cheerleaders showed that the more revealing the uniform they have to wear the higher the incidences of eating disorders among the squad.  I can't say that I am surprised.  But anyway, that is for another time, and that is not the point.  The point is that I read the article, so as I type that might be what I am thinking about, and there might not really be a connection.  So even the little bit of memory that I have might not even be for real.
     So what am I to do?  I briefly considered pretending to be outraged about the cheerleading thing but I am not because I actually think what those girls did was cool, and I liked the response by the school board and district.  So no outrage there, and it just isn't the same when it is faked, you know?  I was sort of hoping that I would see whatever it was that triggered my outrage in the first place and it would, you know, trigger it some more.  But nope, no such luck.  So what's a boy to do?
     Hence the post about the lost post.  Sort of like Garrison Keillor did when he wrote about his greatest story that he lost in a bus depot bathroom in Portland, Oregon.  And I know that I have written on this same subject before - probably more than once - but I am not going to go back and surf through the pages and pages of posts to find it.  You probably aren't interested anyway.  So I am just giving it to you again, in a new and different wrapper.  And I am also offering a big fat apology, for this pile of crap.  And I am sorry for my lost outrage, now suppressed somewhere in some shallow well under my surface, probably never to resurface.  And since I forget about it, even if it does return I won't know that I ever had it before.  And then it will be totally new.  To you and me.  And won't that be neat?

1 comment:

BradPerala said...

Hey, this is my kind of post, man! good job!