Carp!

I wish the title were something inspiring like carpe diem! which we all know from Dead Poets Society. Or even Carpy Derby, a fish festival my Uncle Bob used to run near Binghamton [NY]. I'd be satisfied with Joe Carp, for that matter (as is Steven), but alas, the title is simply Carp! because I want to complain.

I was at the cat food store, since I'm not allowed around dog food for the nonce, and I was in line behind a young mother with a son. The kid wanted her attention, and kept pulling on her clothes. Her jeans were really tight, but he found a belt loop he could yank, to no avail. She was on a cell phone, which is why she didn't have enough extra attention to give to her son.

Keep in mind that I'm not a mother, so my comments should carry twice the weight of someone who actually knows what s/he's talking about.

But really, before cell phones, at least the mother could snap at the kid to shut. up. right. now. Or she could have threatened him with some privilege being withdrawn. Or, heck, she might even have listened to him and they could've spent five minutes looking at the rescue kitties. With her cell phone, though, she barely had enough energy or brain cells or whatever it takes to deal with whoever she was talking to and the clerk, who needed the Magic Cat Food Store Card and who wanted her to sign the receipt.

Yes. She could have been a pediatrician saving some child's life over the phone, but, again, today's title is Carp! so maybe you should just shut. up. right. now.

I was at Sears purchasing an emergency tire. I had just noticed that my right rear tire was bald as a pancake, so I ran out and got the tire. There's not much to do around a tire shop, even one near Tyrone Mall, so I took my book to the waiting room. A woman who'd removed her red cowboy boots was talking loudly (of course) on a cell phone (of course). The television was squealing and yammering from a high corner. I tried to turn off the TV, but I couldn't find the switch. I would have settled for a mute button, but that was lost to me, too. All I could do was find a channel with snow, which actually worked pretty well. When I turned around to find a seat, the woman glared at me and said, "I was watching that!"

"But you're on the phone!" I exclaimed, as you can see from my exclamation point.

"I can listen to the phone with my ears and watch the TV with my eyes," she said.

I held up my book and said, "You mean I have to listen to you and the TV?"

Apparently so.

The only way I could walk peacefully out the door -- after restoring the barefoot cowgirl's channel, of course -- was by recognizing that I was the freak in that scene. Most people really can watch TV and chat on the phone. I can't.

But I'll bet I could watch TV and carp on the phone ...