America at Risk: Righting the Wrongs

My beautiful wife says I’m prone to ranting. I prefer to call it “righting the wrongs in society”. It sounds infinitely nobler. I am a modern day Robin Hood. I can, at any moment, commence to orate vehemently about something for which I am convicted. I owe it to my mother (thanks mom) and her fiery spirit. I still remember the time someone ran her off the road with my sister and me in the car. The other motorist got out to assure that everyone was alright and I thought the next time I saw my mom would be during visitation hours…in prison…she lit into that motorist with a passion and fervor not soon forgotten. Just righting wrongs, righting wrongs.

So allow me to right some wrongs: our society is coming apart at the seams and we stand by idly. Do I speak of moral decay in America? Hardly. Or the expansion of government to new levels of waste? No. Nothing as trivial as those. I’m speaking of the “do it yourself” movement. It all started in the 1970’s. At one time, gas stations were all full service. You drove in, visited with your attendant; he washed your windows, checked your oil, and pumped your gas while you waited. Maybe we paid for it in the price of gas, but it was a service that was offered and we appreciated it. Then came the evil of the self service pump island, and society has been in a downward spiral ever since. The price of gas didn’t go down for the self service island; it went up for the full service island. A piece of the fabric of our society was gone forever, a piece my mother-in-law refuses to let go: she continues to frequent the full serve island. Henceforth, she has earned my profound respect.

Alas, we cannot stem the tidal onslaught. There are self serve, pay at the pump islands where I myself pump my gas and pay for it. Do I get paid for doing the work of the gas station attendant? A resounding “No”. Or how about at my local, to remain nameless, grocery store? Like Asian bird flu, the spread of self serve checkouts is ever rapidly expanding and we are powerless to slow it. Until I get a paycheck for ringing up my own groceries, bagging my own groceries, and executing the final payment transaction, the self serve checkout lane shall remain void of my participation. A grocery clerk used to be a position reserved only for the best. I myself was one…clerks had to memorize 75 produce codes, identify every manner of odd produce that no one consumes, and still maintain a rate of at least 25 items scanned per minute. Now, any peon can perform these tasks…albeit; perform them rather poorly in my humble opinion. Lo, what depths to which we have fallen. Even my local, to remain nameless, home improvement store has a self serve checkout! My friend H and I agreed that someday we’ll show up and buy 500 2x4’s 16ft. long and proceed to ring them up individually in the self serve check out line. Self serve that!! I’m sure the day will soon come when I roll into my local, to remain nameless, restaurant, seat myself, order my food, and then run to the back to prepare it. It’s going to be phenomenal…I’ll finish eating, bus my own table, and then leave $8.99 on the table on the way out.

I am loath to allow myself to slip into such decay and you should be as well…champion the cause…keep the fabric of America intact…leave a better America to the next generation…fight for your right to partake of customer service…just say no…to self service and doing someone else’s job for them. You can count on me to rant, er’ right the wrongs of society…now, what’s the code for butternut squash…