Things I Wonder

There are plenty of big issues in the world right now that deserve our attention: natural disasters, government spending scandals, Olympic victories and defeats.

But here at “Dang,” we are going to focus, this week, on the little things; the things that separate us from the beasts, and, in particular, the things that make this, your devoted correspondent, repeatedly scratch her head in bewilderment and ask, “Why?”

Here, my friends, are just a few of the many things I wonder as I make my way through the world every day:

First of all, why do so many people pick their nose while driving? (Maybe I should have put a little warning ahead of that one, in case you were eating your breakfast.) Seriously, this is like an epidemic or something. If I’m driving, and I randomly turn my head to look at another driver, the chances are, like, 1 in 3 that the person I look at will be rooting around up in there, and completely oblivious to the fact that I can see them. Do people think they’re wearing a cloak of invisibility when they’re behind the wheel or something? You’re surrounded by glass, folks. You may feel all alone in your little steel cage, but I really think you should know: others can see you, and you are totally grossing them out.

Here’s another thing I don’t understand: why, even when the sidewalks have been cleared of slush and snow right down to the bare pavement, do so many runners insist on running out on the road? This morning I had to veer across the centre line at least half a dozen times to make way for these danger junkies. Can I suggest that if it’s too “tricky” to lift your knees high enough to negotiate the bumps in the sidewalk, you might want to reconsider whether running is really the sport for you?

Readers who watch TV during the local supper hour newscasts may relate to this: why do so many car/furniture/jewellery/mattress salespeople think they are clever/funny/handsome/telegenic enough to write and star in their own TV commercials? The hilarity! The schtick! The mute button, hurry! You don’t see actors walking into these vendors’ stores and trying to sell a bedroom set, do you? They should really return the professional courtesy.

Why do some automated banking machines say: “It has been our pleasure serving you,” at the end of a transaction? You can’t fool me, banking machine! I know you don’t have feelings—although you’re certainly good at making me feel a significant amount of pain whenever I check my balance.

I’ve often wondered why everyone who is convicted of some heinous crime has at least one neighbour who is willing to go on the record to say that he “seemed like a nice guy”? Frankly, these neighbours may not have known this person well enough to really be commenting on his character. Also, it may be worth pointing out that people who commit heinous crimes may not, in fact, be sporting cloven hooves and sprouting devil horns, so they may be a little harder to pick out than some people suspect.

And finally, why do so many streets named “Pleasant” rarely live up to their name? I’ll leave this one for you to ponder for the rest of the day. If nothing else, perhaps it will keep you from worrying too much about the big stuff.