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Celebrating seasonal grumpiness.

Byline: Dianne Williamson


Red Sox Truck Day? Are you kidding me? When did that start? Why are we reading about Bristol Palin's political ambitions, how come Valentine's Day is always so loathsome and when is the darn snow ever gonna melt?

Yup, it's that time of year - raw and cold, to match our mood. Roofs are collapsing. The Pats didn't make the Super Bowl. The national anthem was mangled yet again and even the Black-Eyed Peas were rancid.

It's February. Let the seasonal grousing begin.

But misery loves company - shoot me, grammar police, it's a cliche - and my loyal readers have eagerly joined in the rag-on-everyone-and-everything parade. We begin today with an astute observation from a local man who has had it with what he calls "the artful obituary" sometimes penned in this newspaper by overwrought family members.

"Maybe it's cabin fever," wrote the reader, who asked to remain anonymous. "Or maybe the cranky old bastard within my soul has endured one too many afternoons of snow shoveling (that groundhog needs to be impeached, by the way - he lies). But honest. Don't these people have any shame? Or propriety?"

He went on to provide his own example of overblown literary license: "John Q. Public went soaring into the arms of his Lord and Savior Jesus Christ, borne on the wings of angels, with his loving and devoted grief-stricken family by his side ... Our beloved Daddy and Pepaw loved `The Price is Right,' Tater Tots and popping bubble wrap."

He continued, "Imagine one's long and productive life being reduced to that. Has the New York Times actually seen these disgraceful paeans to what are probably perfectly decent people, left to the mercy of their addled descendants' skewed sense of decency?"

Gee, guy, let it out. Tell us how you really feel.

Next, we hear from Brian Welch, a Holdenite and inveterate hater of the downtown mall, who last year said he'd be first in line if the city raffled off the chance to push the button that would swing the wrecking ball. This week, he offered another proposal.

"Here's my latest idea on how to bring down the mall," Welch wrote. "This weekend as I was driving by, they were using a bobcat to push snow off the roof of the mall to prevent it from collapsing. Isn't the point that we WANT the roof to collapse? This effort seems like a waste of money to me.

"Instead, we can kill two birds with one stone. Why look for places to dump the rest of the snow? We should dump as much snow as possible on top of the mall, freeing up space in parking lots and saving the cost of demolition."

I wrote back to Welch and asked, "So who said Holdenites don't have a sense of humor?" To which he promptly replied, "I think YOU said that!" Oops - he's right. My bad.

Here's another question: Where are the women who supposedly get all decked out for Valentine's Day on a Monday night? On my desk are no less than three press releases from magazines touting the ultimate outfit for that "special" day. "It's the perfect excuse to get glam," claimed one. "Accessories are the perfect means to punch up a Valentine's Day night out; a dress from an office holiday party can easily be worn again - maybe adding a snakeskin belt, some layered jewelry or even a pair of colored tights."

I'm thinking that these women live solely in editors' imaginations. Because if they exist, I've never met them.

Nor have I met the women who will embrace Pepsi's new "skinny can," due to debut later this month. The new can stands more than six inches in height and is a "celebration of beautiful, confident women," according to Pepsi. Says Jill Beraud, chief marketing officer at Pepsi, "Our slim, attractive new can is the perfect complement to today's most stylish looks!"

Apparently, the old Pepsi can was really letting itself go. But give me a break, because most women's bodies resemble the curvy old Coke bottle. And I can't wait for the first woman who tries it to ask, "Does this Pepsi can make my fingers look fat?"

Finally, as if things weren't bad enough, Bristol Palin is penning her memoirs at the ripe old age of 20 and said she would "probably" run for office someday.

"If I saw something that needed to be changed, then I would step up to the plate and do something about it," Palin told E! Online.

With all due respect, Bristol, maybe you should start with your baby's diapers before turning your razor-sharp intellect to matters of state. I know I'm grumpy, but how long must we endure these opportunistic Alaskan gold-diggers?

Contact Dianne Williamson via e-mail at
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Title Annotation:LOCAL NEWS
Publication:Telegram & Gazette (Worcester, MA)
Date:Feb 10, 2011
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