No, I’m not the smartest knife on the truck, but most things are within my grasp, I think. The vast majority of what you encounter in your everyday life is pretty easy to figure out. It’s not difficult to see what motivates people, or why certain folks are obscenely successful while others bitterly scattering sawdust over vomit in school cafeterias. But there are still occasionally those things in life which we encounter — people, places, behavior, phenomena of all sorts — and have no way in hell of explaining. These things defy reason, they’re incomprehensible no matter how you look at them. I’ve been collecting things like this for years, writing them down just in case I should ever have a blog someday and find myself in need of something to write about on a Saturday night.
Every once in awhile, when nothing else is going on, I’ll crack open the book to a random page and compose a little rant on some of theShit That Puzzles Me#107: Adults Who Can’t Behave in Public
Today I’d call a good day. The weather was beautiful, like a spring day. I went with Ashley to the fine arts museum in City Park and we saw the Moonlight and Roses exhibit, and the Washington County photography exhibit. While we were looking at the photographs, a trio of people walked in who seemed under the impression that the exhibit was hanging in their dining room. My guess is they were family, a mom and a dad and a son, all adults, all old enough to know how one is supposed to behave in public, especially in a museum. And yet behave as one is supposed to in public they did not.
They spoke to one another from across the room a few times. The photo that won best in show was a portrait of two shirtless men sharing a tender embrace, which the son in this triumvirate found just fucking hilarious. Oh, how he laughed and laughed and laughed!
“Of all the ones they could have picked!” he exclaimed to his old man.
I know where I live, and I know the type of people I come from. We’re simple, working class folks, farmers and construction workers and — God help us — truck drivers. We’ve got a few too many churches and private schools, but there’s not a finishing school in sight, and I wouldn’t have it any other way. I dig that we don’t know nor care which fork to eat with at a fancy-ass supper. I don’t want people to start lifting their pinkies while sipping their tea from little china cups. I just want grown people to behave like polite, civilized men and women when in public.
How do you grow up in the United States of America, get to be an adult of some years, presumably keep a job and maintain a circle of friends and family acquaintances, and not know that you’re supposed to be fucking quiet when you walk through a fucking art museum? They visited the museum voluntarily; at some point during the day, one of them had to speak up and say, “Hey, you wanna go check out the art museum?” and the rest of them had to agree to come along. How can you be someone who likes to go to museums and
someone who behaves like an obnoxious asshole oblivious to everyone else around, at the same time? I don’t get it.