Some days I wake up to the melodies of smiling, chirping birds. They make me want to bound out of bed and sing the harmony parts, although K-Mac has a strict policy about singing in the bedroom while she is asleep. (Don’t even think about whistling.)
Still, the mood on such days is one of hope. As quickly as I can, I get myself to a room where singing is allowed and I sing, whistle, hum and croon. I would dance but I don’t dance.
On other mornings I am rudely thundered out of bed into a jarring state of gnarling awakeness forced on all of us, by the clunking and groaning of worn gears, the squealing of bad brakes, the wheezing and crashing of mechanical teeth as they digest the disgusting, rancid, festering, stinking contents of giant plastic tubs of smellbad, heaved into the enormous maw of a beastly, whining conveyance by society’s sainted devils, those garbologists without scented portfolio, whose entire language is a single, guttural, tortured, semi-word whose meaning changes by the minute with subtly mixed inflections to the sound of Yo, as in “Yo!” Or “YO!” Or sometimes just an exhausted “yo,” with the implied inflection “yo, what crap!”
Hard to keep one’s outlook on life from souring as you transmogrify from “That sweet old poop, Mr. McGuire,” into that cynical, grump “Old man McGuire.”
This morning as I sat down to my morning bowl of Cheerios, I read a message from Cheerio central on the box, explaining why the shape of their cereal changed from an O to a heart. Old Man McGuire frowned darkly as he read:
Our hearts are filled with joy knowing you’re about to sink… (that much I could believe) …your spoon into our new heart-shaped Cheerios.
Out came my down spout, spouting disdainfully in my outside voice: What crap! It set my eye-squinting tone for the rest of the day with:
- This is a courtesy call (what crap!)
- Congratulations. You’ve been selected to apply for our credit card (what crap!)
- Expect more from your broth (Broth? Really? What crap!)
- Everyone deserves the gift of more data (what crap!)
Door-to-door roofing salesman:
- I’m terribly sorry to bother you but… (what crap!)
- Trade wars are easy to win (what crap!)
- I’m like a stable genius (I’m like what crap!)
- I hate to rain on your parade, but…(what crap!)
Crooks Without Portfolio
- Sorry, but this coupon expired yesterday (what crap!)
- Unfortunately, your bumper to bumper warranty doesn’t cover bumpers (what crap!)
- Have a nice day (what crap!)
- You look marvelous (what crap!)
- Your safety is our number-one priority (what crap!)
- Your dog snarled at my wife which is against the covenants of the Homeowner’s Association (what crap!). Also, the ding-ding from your fit bit is over the limits of the Homeowner’s sound quotient. Here is our audio quotient report. By the way, you repainted your house an off-white which is a little too off according to the covenants color czar (what crap!)
- Dope: If I have offended anyone, I sincerely apologize (while he is sneering in a silent, mentally mental voice “Eat me.”) (what total crapola!)
- If you get a lemon, make lemonade (what crap!)
- If you get a turkey, make lemonade (what crap!)
(By the way, if you get lemonade, you’re doing something wrong.)
- But I would walk 500 miles and I would walk 500 more…(what crap!)
WARNING: Stand back! Grab the dog and the children! Here comes Old Man McGuire.
©Patrick A. McGuire and A Hint of Light 2013-2020, all rights reserved.