Ruminations of a Red Dirt Hussy

March 3, 2013

Consistency. Is that too much to ask?

Filed under: General — Vadasmaker @ 8:45 pm
Tags: , , , , , , , ,

Just yesterday I told the universe I wanted consistency. Not just wanted. Demanded. I told the universe, “Universe, I must insist upon consistency. You know if the doors at school automatically open for me, I’m going to run smack into the first ones that don’t.” And this isn’t just for me. I’m a very magnanimous person. I want the whole world to have doors that automatically open.

Seriously, people. What’s not to like about automatic doors? If all doors were automatic, there would be no more of that embarrassing pushing when, apparently, the sign clearly reads, “Pull,” or vice-versa. Who doesn’t want to avoid that? Although, frankly, I don’t think the signs are all that clear. Just because there’s a sign on a door that says “pull” doesn’t mean that the instruction refers to the door. Haven’t you ever seen a sign posted on the side of a building that says, “No parking”? Clearly, that doesn’t mean no parking on the building. Everybody knows that.

As you can see, we are in serious need of some consistency. Sometimes its lack is downright unsanitary. Take toilets. Some of them have sensors that know when you stand up and they flush themselves. Sometimes over and over. Sometimes when you’re still sitting there, which is no big deal unless you’ve forgotten to pull your panties down. Which hardly ever happens.

But say you spend a lot of time in a place where the toilets flush themselves. And suppose one of them doesn’t? Personally, I am not thrown by the situation, but then, I’ve got a hatful of college degrees. That must be why I can see that there’s a little button on the side to be pushed when the sensor fails. It must be all my education that enables me to see and push that button, because freshmen can’t seem to do it. Either that or they expect their mothers to do it. If their mothers aren’t around–well, use your imagination. And, by the way, remember that we’re talking about toilets that, most of the time, do flush on their own. Once a person gets used to that, being forced to use a bathroom that has a manual flush can be problematic, what with being forced to remember to do it on your own.

You must, by now, be able to see my point about consistency, but I will nevertheless flog this dead horse.

Clothing, for one thing. Some things simply cannot be worn backwards or inside out by accident. Say, a V-neck sweater with a pattern on only one side. Most other apparel has been thoughtlessly designed for people with super human powers. What kind of powers? Really? How would I know? I am obviously powerless over clothing. I do have a solution, though.

Every piece of clothing should have the words “This side up” and “This side in” discreetly placed. Is that too much to ask? I’ve seen random, ridiculous instructions in other places.
On the large slot at the post office, meant for small packages or large bundles of mail: Do not place arm in slot.
On a camera: When using the auto focus feature, take care not to poke eye.
On a hair dryer: Do not use in bathtub.
And shoes. Shoemakers deliberately encourage people to put a different shoe on each foot by making so many the same color. Brown! Black! White! Why don’t shoes have indicators that beep or little lights that flash when you’ve put on a matching pair? And panties. “This side up” and “This side in” will not solve that problem. Tiny alarms should go off when you put the damn things on sideways. It just makes sense.

We have planes that fly themselves and we can’t figure out a way to keep me from putting my clothes on wrong or wearing mis-matched shoes? Consistency, people! I must have consistency!

And don’t tell me to pay attention. What with going up and down these stairs and being forced to drive on same streets other people use, I don’t have any attention to spare.

And then there’s this. Full-on madness. You know I don’t math. And yes, I did just make that a verb. Anything or anyone that uses imaginary bits to make a point deserves to be manipulated. So, I don’t math. I know when things don’t make sense, though.

Today on Jeopardy, “middle-age” was defined as the years between 45 and 60. That’s ridiculous. If that was middle-age, we’re supposing we’ll live till we’re 90 or till we’re 120, or anyplace in between. Most of us aren’t, so that’s not middle age. That in no way means middle age is between 35 and 40. It means that somebody arbitrarily made up that definition and Alex Trebek bought it. If a fact can be arbitrary, it can be non-existent. At least that’s solved.

Not that that age thing has nothing to do with me. I don’t know anyone who’s 60, or will be 60, or cares if she–or he, because this is all strictly hypothetical–will be 60.

I just want consistency. Is that too much to ask?



  1. Have you read “Dover Beach” lately? Sally B.


    Comment by Sally Bright — March 3, 2013 @ 10:40 pm | Reply

  2. I totally don’t math. It’s more than just not being able to deal with numbers at a particular moment. When I say it, I mean that I cannot do it EVER. I have no head for numbers.

    And seriously! Where’s the consistency in the world? 😛


    Comment by The Mess — March 5, 2013 @ 2:19 pm | Reply

  3. I math. I call the bank and ask how much money I have. Doesn’t that count? Does asking if it counts count as math?
    And to confound matters, a definition of aged is that you can no longer count the candles on your cake~!
    Next year, I will not be 64, I will be 8 squared.
    This year, I think I’ll get a book published. What the hell, right? It will help make me timeless and not old.
    And be happy, Carol, used be that middle aged was 17. Our ancestors had a pretty rough life being chased by tigers and swamp-critters.
    You are middle aged, if you still get carded by squirts at the liquor store. If you look 40, you are not middle-aged. If you look 40, you are minutes away from a senior discount. Sad, but true.


    Comment by ponytail girl — March 5, 2013 @ 3:53 pm | Reply

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