Personal Grievances Were Never Part Of My HRM Object Model So I'm Improvising
Last month I had a terrific time airing a list of the grievances, just some of the routine annoyances, of my professional life. Well, that felt so good that I began making a similar list for my personal life. I hadn’t meant to share that personal list, but then a few of these sort of hit me between the eyes over the last few weeks, and I decided that there’s no purpose in having a blog if you can’t vent on whatever topics you choose. So, here goes (in no particular order):
Personal grievance #1 — Snooty social-climbing ladies who lunch who presume that careers are for husbands. Yes, these women still exist in 2011 right here in Paradise. And I’m not talking about retired ladies, but about women who’ve never had a career thought in their heads, until their big bucks husbands turn them in for younger models.
Personal grievance #2 — Flight attendants in business or first class who presume male passengers need/deserve more attention than females. Don’t they realize that attitude went out with the men in their grey flannel suits
? I can’t tell you what a pleasure it is to be greeted in business class on an international flight as though I had every right to be there, and not just because Ron’s a gold mine. Hmmm…I think #2 is connected to #1.
Personal grievance #3 — Most commercial TV. When did the lowest common denominator get so low? Who the hell cares about Snookie! And who on earth are the Kardashians? Why would anyone waste time peering into the dysfunctional lifestyles of the stupid and ugly? I’m clearly not a good candidate for most consumer marketing, but I’m sure a reliable contributor to Masterpiece Theater.
Personal grievance #4 — Boom box cars playing absolute crap at 500 db stopped next to me in heavy traffic. I keep hoping their eardrums will explode all over their windshields, but then I worry that they’ll cause an accident. Don’t these people have parents? Don’t these parents have any brains?
Personal grievance #5 — Calories! By now the scientists should have figured out how to squeeze them out of my food. With all the money being spent on myriad ways to lose weight, from exercise equipment to all the recalled diet drugs, not to mention on every flavor of cosmetic improvement (you’d know that I’m living in the center of the plastic surgery universe if you could just see the results in any upmarket restaurant between Sarasota and Naples), but you never hear about serious efforts to suck the calories out of, say, M&Ms or bagels. You’d think that the VCs would be all over this. Hmmm… nope, not an entrepreneurial inspiration for this gal.
Personal grievance #6 (which is closely related to #5) — The entire fashion industry’s lack of interest in anyone under 5’10” and/or over 120 lbs, which is almost all of us. Men buy clothes sized to their actual measurements with perhaps a little shortening of a sleeve here or a pant leg there as needed — and always provided by the shop. Women buy clothes that will never fit because there are no clothes that do fit. If you’re short and weigh nothing, there’s petites. If you’re an Amazon and weigh a lot, there are plus sizes. But if you’re short and weigh a lot, there’s nothing, absolutamenta nada. And forget alterations unless you’re shopping at Neiman Marcus, which certainly doesn’t cater to whatever non-size I am.
Personal grievance #7 (just so you’ve got one for every day) — Family members you only hear from when they’re trying to make up the numbers at a wedding or funeral or wherever they need relatives to show off to their friends. I’m blessed with some terrific relatives, folks I call friends in spite of the blood ties and shared childhoods, but there are some who didn’t make the cut, and deservedly so. If you’re an A list relative and are reading this, please plan a visit to Paradise so we can laugh at the ladies in #1, commiserate over # 5 & 6, sing at the top of our lungs with the top down to drown out #4, and watch old Masterpiece Theater masterpieces on DVD.
That felt great. I may make this an annual post.