12 October, 2006

why, barney, why? and other thematically related rants

i've been surfing the net and reading other people's blogs, something i really should not do. it makes me feel inferior. it makes me feel unpopular. it makes me feel slightly rancid and unoriginal. bleeergh. that's that. so, let's number some paragraphs again (i figure it makes things more palatable to prospective readers - they will not be faced with a ten foot long essay, but a series of friendly bite sized points). here goes, boys and girls.

1. why do people hate barney the dinosaur? because i definitely don't sense the same kind of hatred toward, say, the teletubbies. both are oddly coloured, overgrown and disturbing, so why specifically hate barney? i figure it's because the teletubbies don't say much. they giggle, make odd little noises and carry their little furry man-purses (satanic homosexuals that they are) around. barney, on the other hand, surrounds himself with the type of children that beg for after-school alleyway beatings, and sings what fun it is to share. hah. what fun it is to share. who is he kidding? purple commie idiot! sharing is about as natural to humanity (even its newest, youngest members) as managing to pee INSIDE the toilet is to men. "let's have fun with manners," indeed!

2. and what's with the overgrown anthropomorphic creatures anyhow? do the marketing geniuses figure that since kids are little to begin with, they should be surrounded by gigantic yellow birds, obese purple dinosaurs and such? can that be good for kids' psyches? the world is dangerous. don't talk to strangers. share your toys with your sister. don't cross the street alone. oh, and by the way, here is a 6' chicken to bring the lesson home to you. nightmares? you think?

3. and speaking of children, whenever mr. m and i stop analysing, agonising and theorising about parenting, i always revert to status quo. always. and the status quo is - naaah. i mean, what a good life we have. drop by for wine. pop out for a movie. sleep in. get disgustingly drunk every once in a while. swear like a sailor in two, sometimes three languages. go dancing till 4 am (purely theoretical, this one. i really don't like to go out dancing in practice, but i adore it in theory.) go to a concert. go camping. and before all you parental types get in an uproar that, yes, you can still do all that once your wee blessings have beamed down into your lives, tell me - can you do it at the drop of a hat? huh? can ya? i didn't think so. and no, i am not so tied up in the american dream tele-version of child-rearing that i think once you are a parent it's all barney on the stereo, vacations to disneyland, french-fries and chik'n chunks on the menu, and the idea that my entire existence having now been justified by these darling genetic mini-me's i must focus solely on their happiness and well-being, becoming servant, cook, maid, chauffeur and banker. still, that does happen to a lot of people. and yes, i know i am not a lot of people. but there is still that time in every parent's life where there will be toys on the floor, and i have a hard enough time negotiating my apartment without falling/dropping things/breaking things/hurting myself/hurting others that the idea of the child-related obstacle course of a home makes me come out in pre-emptive bruises all over. so unless mister monkey comes up with something better than his idea that having children is great because you get to teach a little person how to be a good big person (yawn), it'll be a childless existence for us.

4. on a totally unrelated topic, the condos in our building are notoriously underpriced vis a vis the general real estate market. part of the reason is our lobby which boasts black lacquer and brass 80's mirrors, 70's den lighting, ditto "wood" panelling and wall to wall maroon carpeting. the new management company thought they'd remedy the situation by...ahem....a little light decorating. imagine, if you will, a distant cousin of less than stellar intellect. his sight ain't what it used to be (all that wood alcohol, grandma figures). neither is his hand-eye coordination. he is also colour blind. now imagine the kind of artwork he would produce. two samples of this are now hanging in our lobby, surrounded in the one case by hanging tea light sconces from what i assume must be dollarama, and in the other by "realistic silk-like" fall foliage. i can feel my property values plummeting as i write this. also, all of the above are screwed into the "wood" panelling with big ass metal screws. classy, no?

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