The Wall Street Journal and Mindi with and "i"

So here's the deal. In the midst of recovering from a four day weekend, I did have to extract myself from my posh luxury two bedroom suite to make the journey to the local grocery Mecca that we Rochesterians call; Wegmans. I don't know how those bastards do it, but I went in with the intention once again of picking up my standard case of Diet Vanilla Pepsi, case of Dasani, and a couple frozen pizzas... or something to keep me sustained in my vicious literary endeavors, but somehow I walked out once again spending $70.03. Whoever they've hired to do their merchandising is worth every penny. Regardless... on with the rant of the day.

For the last seven or eight days that I've been in and out of my meager domicile, I've noticed a disturbing gathering of copies of the Wall Street Journal. They're stacking up in my entranceway, and no one is bothering to pick these stupid things up. As they don't belong to me, I have elected, in my infinite wisdom, to join my fellow apartment-dwelling compatriots in the dutiful act of doing absolutely nothing about them. Now, believe it or not, I do have a take on people that actually have the Wall Street Journal (henceforth to be referred to as "WSJ") delivered to their doorstep... and here it is.

There are 2 types of people that have the WSJ delivered to their doorstep; (1) stock brokers or people that work in the financial sector, and (2) pretentious assholes. My guess is that the individual that is letting these monuments to professional financial advice stack up in my entranceway is, in fact, the latter. This is the guy that likes the idea of being someone that is in the habit of reading the WSJ every day and taking whatever the hell it says as gospel, but pretty much uses it to line the bottom of his kitty litter box. Yes, I do believe that it's a guy with a cat. Guys, especially single guys, should not own a cat... but that's a whole other post and I won't get into it now.

What this little episode reminds me of is the girl that lived across the street from me from age 8-18. Her name was Mindi... yes, with an "i." Mindi was the girl that so desperately wanted to be popular and respected, but just couldn't quite muster whatever it is that popular people had... either could I, but I accepted that a long, long time ago. Anyway, on with the point I'm trying to make. When we were in high school, Mindi went to the mall and bought non-prescription glasses in an effort to make her look smarter and give her some kind of indefinable quality that would make people think she actually had a brain. I think she was going for that kind of Molly Ringwald/Ally Sheedy thing... that girl that isn't really in, but you should really get to know her because there's something deeper, something you need to delve into, something you just stay up and think about at night because you know that it's something that makes you want to be better. Yeah... uh, no... that didn't really work out for her.

Anyhoo, (my grandmother says that), I think the point that I'm getting at is; why bother? Equating buying the WSJ to buying non-prescription glasses may be some kind of leap in logic, but I think it's pretty right on. I must say, I've been guilty of it... we've all probably been guilty of it. Maybe not to the same extremes that my neighbor or Mindi with an "i" have, but we've all done stuff like that to make people think something different about us. Now I'm not advocating trying not to fit in, but are the people you're going to meet while wearing those glasses or pretending to read the WSJ while sipping a double chocolate half caf double mocha espresso grande at Spin Cafe really the people that you want to devote your time to? I personally don't think so, but if that's what brings you happiness and makes your life complete; more power to you.

So that's all I've got for tonight. Maybe tomorrow I'll have some more better (my grandmother again) inspiration for what I would classify as a suitable rant. For now, as I crawl out from under my hangover from this long weekend and get ready to greet the world tomorrow, I'm just content to get something down in print. Otherwise, until that happens, I'm out... I think Pretty in Pink is on TBS.

Until next time, as always...

R