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Dec.
28, 2000
'Smatter of Fact
By Katharhynn Heidelberg
Now that Christmas is past, ’tis time for other
traditions. No, I’m not talking about Valentine’s Day, although I’m
sure store shelves are already being aggressively stocked for our annual
love fest.
I refer to the end-of-year round-ups that most newspapers
publish around New Year’s Day. In the spirit of this tradition, I present
a round-up of my own, of little things that vex the soul:
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Really bad movies. The glitz factor is taking over a
profession that used to require time and talent. These days, directors
zip out some bang-up special effects, throw in hot actors of both sexes,
add trite lines and sappy (if any) plot, and, voila! A box-office
smash. (And sequels ad infinitum). If you don’t believe
me, check out the recent "Dungeons and Dragons." You can tell
right away it’s based on a game — the characters are more like chess
pieces than real people, and frankly, not even the villain is very
bright. Its sole redeeming factor is an occasional shot of levity.
Other movies make a real effort to avoid being seen as yet one more
computer-generated dazzler. It’s too bad some try so hard that they
"artistically" take themselves beyond comprehension. Or simply
bore us to death, like the incredibly overrated "Blair Witch
Project." I’m still waiting for that celluloid
embarrassment to scare me.
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Stupid kid names. Not traditional names with strange
spellings (of course!), but silly ones. After a generation of Jennifers
and Michaels, parents have decided to be as unique as they possibly can.
Great! Alas, this noble quest often results in the random throwing
together of syllables that collectively have no linguistic meaning, or
in simple embarrassment. To the latter, witness my college buddy
who wanted to name one of his children "Craven"
("cowardly"). I have encountered similarly unfortunate names.
I am not trying to embarrass anyone, so they must remain
"nameless," but one means "pale," and the other,
though misspelled, "rule by a despot."
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Tacky lawn ornaments. For the life of me, I cannot think
of what is amusing, clever or aesthetic about a cut-out of a bent-over
woman’s polka-dot undies or a man’s "butt cleavage." And I
cannot begin to describe how crass I find those cut-outs of a little boy
urinating. If you must deck your lawn, stick to pink flamingoes or
gnomes. They’re obnoxious, but at least they don’t scream: "I
love trash!"
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Dumped pets. I see red just thinking about this one. The
time to decide whether or not you are able to care for a dog or cat for
the duration of its natural life is before you adopt, not after.
I don’t care if Kitty scratches the furniture or chases birds — he’s
a cat and it’s what they do. I don’t care if Pretty Puppy has grown
into Monstrously Ugly Dog. It’s no excuse to euthanize him.
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Acronyms. When used appropriately, they are a convenient
tool. When overused, acronyms encourage acrimony. GPA is much easier to
say than "grade-point average," but The Society To Prevent
Egregious Use of Acronyms would be TSTPEUOA, which is actually harder.
When in print, such are also distracting. The odds that the reader will
remember either the organization or its abbreviation are pretty slim,
thus defeating the point.
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Beauty tips. It’s not that I object to them per se,
but that they appear in the same glossy magazines claiming to be all
about a woman’s "health" or "well-being" is
hypocrisy. In some small way, though, this is also funny. These tips are
often touted as "simple." I read the instructions for a
"simple" beauty routine once, and calculated that it would
involve an hour in the morning, an hour at night, and standing on my
head every full moon.
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The Millennium. Whether or not you accept the
"fuzzy math" that told you to celebrate it in 2000, please
accept from me a "Happy New Year!"
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