I just want to stare!

I suspect that this next gripe may apply to many people, even those who do not consider themselves to be grumpy old men (or women for that matter).


I got home from work yesterday, tired (but no more than usual) and just wanting one thing - to sit in my chair (YES - my chair, got a problem with that?), stare at the goggle box (TV), completly blank out my mind (no big problem for most men) and do nothing for an indeterminate length of time.

Things went great for about 10 minutes. Then the family started to arrive home - one by one. Pl;ease don't get me wrong. I love my wife of 35 years deeply. I love my 4 kids aged 33 to 16 and will do anything for them. I love my 6 year old grandaughter who knows she has complete control over me. But, and again, but - sometimes, when I just want to be left alone, they decide that I am sick, depressed or in a bad mood.

Daughter: "Dad, are you ok?"
I'm fine, just want to sit quietly.
"You sure?"
Yes!
"Have you taken your tempreture?"
No, don't need to - I'm fine!
"You don't look it!!!"

Wife: "Whats the matter with you?"
Nothing "Are you sure - you don't look as if nothing is bothering you?"
No, I'm OK, really.
"Why are you in a bad mood?"
I'm not in a bad mood, I just want to sit and stare at the TV
"Who annoyed you?"
If you don't stop asking if I'm in a bad mood, you'll be one annoying me!!!!!

And so it goes on until, in the end, THEY manage to destroy my good mood, put me into a foul mood and then they can all say "See, we knew you where in a bad mood!"

The moral of this story? Basically it's simple and we men all know it but we're to stubborn to admit it! THEY (who ever "they" may be) are always right. Even if at first THEY are wrong, it's better to say time and trouble and just admit that THEY are right, regardless of the real situation. Maybe that way THEY'LL leave me alone to stare at the TV and scratch various parts of my lower anatomy.

Have a nice day - just who do you think your kidding?

Now this really get my goat - people in stores saying to you "Have a nice Day". Do they know me? Do they really care what sort of day I've had or will have? Of course they don't! Do they have any idea of what I would consider a "nice day"? Maybe for me, a "nice day" is one when their store is swallowed by an enormous hole in the ground? Maybe it's reading in the paper about a natural disaster somewhere in the world and feeling good because it happed to "them" and not to me? Maybe "a nice day" for me is the upstairs neighbor buying new furniture - all with wheels?

"Have a nice day" is a meaningless phrase used by insipid store personell because someone once told them that I't a posative thing to say, that It make people feel good and, most important, maybe will get them to come back and shop again. I've got news for! Not this grumpy old man!!!!

When I go in a store, all I want to do is wander around, maybe buy something and then leave - quietly, no fuss, no meaningless ceremonies - at most a thank you from them (obviously not from me - I have a reputation to protect). I most decidedly do not need nor want their empty wishes - just leave me alone or I may bite!

Moving Furniture

This gripe is really aimed only at those poor souls who have someone living on their head - an aparment building.

OK - its no big deal really - BUT IT REALLY PISSES ME OFF!!!!! when I'm relaxing at home, watching the box, listening to music, having a cup of tea (yes I'm English by birth) or just scratching some random part of my body as we men so often do, when, suddenly, without warning, I'm subjected to the raucous grinding of chair legs or the dining table being dragged across the floor by the upstairs neighbor.

Now I know, they have to move their furniture to clean and so forth, but why for heavens sake, do they always choose to do so just when I'm relaxing and relishing, finally, in a little bit of peace and quiet. Often I wonder if they have installed spy cameras in the ceiling so that they can start moving operations just when my eyes start to droop and I start to snore? Maybe there is a Quisling, a 5th column in my own house, an informer who instantly lets them know when to let rip?. Maybe their kid is telepathaic and listening to my mind (what little there is left of it)?

To be honest, I don't know what to do! The simplist and obvious solution would be talk to them and ask them to put sliders on their furniture - I'd even buy the sliders! But that's to logical, reasonable and sensible. I am, after all, a grumpy old man, so why take the easy, human and neighborly way out. No, why should I? Next time they start shifting, I'll put on some Led Zepplin at full volume so I wont hear their noise. Maybe I'll sneak in one day when nobody is in, soak their furniture in an inflammable but oderless substance so that the friction will make the table spontaneously combust the next time they dare drag it across my ceiling? I could, I suppose, use some fantstically advanced adhesive and glue the stuff to the floor?

Then again, we all kmow what I'll do - nothing! Lets face it, if I solve the problem in some way, I'll have nothing to complain about, nothing to be grumpy about - and then what will I do for fun? No, I'll just carry on as before - pacing the floor, muttering under my breath about "inconsiderate neighbors" and "the youth of today" and "In my day...." Occaisionaly I'll go and complain to the wife who will, wisely, agree with a slight nod of her head to get me to shut up and leave her alone as quickly as possible. In the long run, I shall suffer as a true martyr should - quietly whilst making sure that everyone knows how much I suffer and what a wretched soul I am.

Have a nice day (More about that in a later post)

Nokia, Motorola et al.....why why why?

Here it comes, the daily dose of venom. Today, its aimed at the cell phone - or rather, at those users of this pernicious device who, whilst themselves being hard of hearing, seem to think that the rest of the world also can't hear a thing - thus the need to shout when talking on their mobile phone. Or maybe, they think that what they have to say is of world shattering significance and the whole world has to share in the revelation?

To be honest, I don't like the mobile phone. Sure it's great in an emergency - car breaks down, need to call an ambulance etc. But do I really need to be accesable to the entire world 24 hours a day? I don't think so! I remember with fond nostalgia those days long gone when the only telephone was a landline device - at home, the office or a public booth. In those far off, long gone days of solitude ( it's all relative) when you drove off in your car, went for a walk, got on a bus or a train - you were alone with yourself and fellow travellers. Maybe, just maybe, you struck up a conversation with someone?

Today? No way! The endless shouting of cell phone users, the myriad, annoying ring tones that constantly puncture the air and my eardrums, put an end to any hope of a peacful, private journey.

So, obviously you think - "aha - he dosen't have a cellphone". Wrong - he does! But, I don't have a handsfree unit in the car! When I'm driving it's the only time when I can be alone. I don't reply to every number that is listed as not having been answered - if it's that important, they'll phone back! Sometimes, though I am ashamed to admit it, I don't even reply to messages left on voice mail - assuming I even remember to check! I often forget to recharge the "thing" (Saving energy I call it - my contribution to global awareness). I have even been known to, dare I say it, turn it off. On occasions, when I get one of those autoimated calls from a chain store or worse, a politician - the device has been known to fly accross the room with great force and impact on the wall before falling to the floor - unfortunately, still alive and functioning.

Wait a minute, how did I get here? Lets see, this started out as a diatribe againt people shouting on the mobile phones and ended up as an all out attack on the device itself. Oh well, that's what comes of being a grunpy old man - by the time I get to the end of a sentance, I can't remeber how I started. Have to send myself a reminder on my mobile!

At the traffic Lights!

Anyone know the shortest measurable length of time? No, its not a nano-second, if you thought that then you have never driven in Israel.

The shortest measurable length of time was invented ( yes invented, not discovered) in Israel. So what is it? Very simple, it's the length of time taken by the driver in the car behind you to start honking his horn when the traffic lights goes from red to amber. It instantaneous, certainly faster than the speed of light, much faster than Superman ("a speeding bullet") and a whole lot faster that the Transporter in Sar Trek. In fact, the reaction time is so fast, that there exists no machinary or mechanism capable of measuring it.

And yes, It really gets my goat!!!! O.K - I know I'm and old man, a grumpy ols man, a VERY grumpy old man. But, what's the rush? Rushing to get to another war - as if we haven't been through enough? Trying to avoid the mother-in-law? Rushing to work? (Sure!) Or is it just that good old fashioned Israeli mind set? No one, but know one is going to get the better of me or make me look less of a "MAN"? Here in Israel there is a term - Friar - פרייר. Not a priest or a monk but a word meaning, sucker, idiot, wimp, pushover, soft, weak, no personality and many more things. No Israel man want's to be thought of as a "Friar" so, push that horn and show the world that you'r a REAL man and will take no lip or nonsense from anybody. The funny thing is, these horn honkers usually overtake you at great speed and on the wrong side in an effort to "beat" you. But when you get to the next set of traffic lights, there they are, sitting, waiting for the lights to change so that they once again, prove to world that the are "REAL MEN".

Me, next time someone does it to me, I'll turn off the engine, turn on the hazard lights and just sit there for a minute or two just for the pleasure of proving to him that I'm not a "friar" and that I'm a "REAL MAN"

Elevators

Anybody who has lived in Israel for more than a couple of weeks will have come across this really annoying habit.

You're in an elevator, going down or up, no matter. The car stops at your floor , the doors open and instead of getting out you are pushed to the rear of the elevator by the wave of people getting in, not one of whom seem to think that you have the right to get out and that they have the God given right to get in as fast as possible before the doors close and they loose their place. Even if they don't rush in, they just stand there, not moving aside, daring you to try and push your way through a barrier of human flesh in an effort to escape a fate worse that death - being trapped for the rest of your life in the cramped confines of a contantly moving and full elevator car full of sweaty, loud people.

It doesn't matter if there's a mother with a babys pram trying to get out. It is of no consequence if it's an elderly person aided by a walking stick. The most important thing is to get in and show the world that I AM THE BOSS!!!!! The worst case scenario is in a hospital - yes that's right, a hospital where you might expect people to be a little more considerate. Oh No, not here in the Holy Land - no matter who you are, connected to a breathing machine, on crutches, in a wheelchair, in a bed being pushed by an orderly - no one, but no one has the right to stop the average run of the mill Israeli from fullfiling his God given destiny - getting into the elevator no matter who and no matter what.

So next time you are in Israel and want to use the elevator - be warned, you may be able to get in - but you may never get out. So if you have an appointment to meet or a plane to catch - maybe its better, safer and healthier to use the stairs!