Pet Peeves

Seatbelts Save

As a former seat belt naysayer, I can understand why some people don't like wearing them.

Children, however, are a different story.

I was on my way home the other day when I look behind me and see two adults in the front seat without safety belts. I get it. I know they're wrong, but I used to be them.

Then I saw the child, no older than five years old, bouncing up and down in the back seat. The adults weren't scolding him. They were laughing and they were handing him things as he leaned forward into the front seat area to get them.

What a bunch of idiots.

If you don't want to wear a seat belt and you really want to wrap your head around your dashboard, that's your business, but that child is depending on parents who know how to use the brain in their currently intact skull.

Fighting words? Maybe, but basically if you don't properly restrain your child in a safety seat or with a seat belt, or at least do the best you can to meet compliance, you're a BAD parent.

There are even a number of areas around Ohio that will check your child's safety seat for you and help you install it properly. 

There's no gray area here, folks. Regardless of whether your love for your children includes saving your own life so you can be there for them, you should make sure you do everything in your power to keep your children healthy and alive in the event you do something stupid on the road or someone else does.

I was driving down Ohio 199 the other day and slammed on my brakes just as some moron ran a stop sign at a high rate of speed. I was lucky. If I'd been hit, I may still have been lucky because I was wearing a seat belt.

If that group behind me had been hit? We'd have three more obituaries in the paper.

If I can't convince you to save yourself, please please please, at least save your children.

~Chandra

You say tomato, I say...

To those it may concern besides myself:

This post is in reference to the "Bargain Shoppers Go Postal" story in the April 29 edition.

Do you know anyone with a mistress' degree in journalism or education? In like fashion, there are no postmistresses; there are only postmasters.

I will grant you that Webster's College Dictionary does indeed have a listing for postmistress, but I would be greatly surprised if the AP Stylebook does so as well (that is, if AP stylebooks still exist).

Here are the one-line definitions from that dictionary: postmaster -- an official in charge of a post office; postmistress -- a woman in charge of a post office. My definition for a postmistress would be "woman after the 'other woman'."

Now I'm not calling for manhole covers to be renamed personhole covers, but I would think you would find the dictionary's distinction between postal leaders to be as bothersome as I do. Otherwise, maybe the two of you should be considered a reportress and editress, respectively. Ha.


I'm going to kiss my postmaster wife goodbye and go deliver some mail.

Patrick Magers

Jury Duty

I recently had a full blown tantrum at work about the uselessness of juries that could rival my 19-month-old son's outburst regarding vegetables.

If you've been on a jury before, I'm sure you felt important and maybe you were to that case, but most jurors probably don't care or want to be there to do their civic duty.

Parking is a nightmare (I'd be going to downtown Toledo) and the pay is lousy. The restrictions are also difficult to overcome. Depending on the case, you can't have a strong opinion about anything and if you do, you're ousted from the jury. I suppose that's a good thing, but how does it work exactly if it's supposed to be a jury of your peers?

The inner city drug dealer goes on trial and I doubt most of his jurors grew up in a neighborhood where drugs were rampant and somehow presented as a way to survive the daily challenges. His "peers" are probably the people who grew up in the suburbs and only saw the problems on the news while they were sitting around the table eating a home cooked meal.

And what about the doctor who finds himself in the hot seat? Considering being a professional, or so the paperwork for jury duty says, is a reason to get out of jury duty, I'm thinking he's not going to get a group of peers, either.

So I don't like the idea of juries. I don't like it and I never will and my rant at work was much more long winded and annoying than this one.

But Karma has a way of kicking you when you're down. I recently received my jury summons in the mail. *sigh*

I'm thinking of telling them if I have to report exactly what I think of the jury system. If I'm lucky, they'll send me home before I get too far. Then again, with my luck, they'll probably make a note to pull my name more often just to annoy me as much as I annoyed them.

I wonder if I can get my boss to confirm and not laugh through the excuse that, "You are so important to the operation of a business that your absence will cause that business to fail."

Probably not.

If I do make it on a jury, the trial had better be worth some laughs or it had better be a case entertaining enough for me to forgive them for the teasing I'm going to get from my co-workers.

~Chandra

Rot box - DAY 2

WOW!

Much better!

Now we all have a place to put our lunches.

This weekend we are defrosting the freezer.

Stay tuned...

Welcome to the rot box

We have a little black box at work.

Noooo, it isn’t a flight data recorder.

Some call it the refrigerator.

I call it the rot box.

It is the place leftovers (from last night, last week, last month, last year????) go to die.

It’s not like I care what kind of garbage is stashed away in there (geeeeez I’d be afraid to look inside those bags) and I know I am as guilty as the next guy when it comes to leaving my well-intended “lunch” sit in the black box a little too long.

But take a look at this fridge.

Pretty small, isn’t it?

Hard to believe it’s shared by more than two dozen people, huh?

If you haven’t looked inside the rot box lately where you work, take a look.

If you find your long-lost lunch, please eat it.

If you can't eat it, please remove it.

~Linda

Stop the MySpace madness

I admit that I am not an internet wizard.  I don’t blog or even fully understand the concept.  I prefer personal contact with people as opposed to virtual relationships.  Even though my significant other and I met through Match.com (we only ‘talked’ online a couple of times before we met in person), I have a REAL problem with MySpace.

I know a family who is in constant turmoil and crisis due to the postings on individual’s MySpace pages.  It has become the way for families to trash one another, choose temporary favorites, and in general create pain, division and heartache.  These people literally check what is being said about whom on a daily basis.  And what they post is vicious.  Truly vicious.  Secrets are shared and accusations made, keeping this family constantly at odds with each other.  And of course the harshest punishment for some perceived indignation is to be blocked. It’s the modern day version of locking an offending person in the attic, never to be heard from again.

Family is hard enough without all of this constant churning.  Forgiveness is hard enough without someone always stirring the pot of insecurity and hatred thanks to an online social tool.

And let’s not EVEN get me started on the perverts who can ‘steal’ a photo or bio from a MySpace page for their personal gratification…

- Kim

Good drivers wanted!

You know what I hate? I hate when I pass people going 10 miles below the speed limit only to look over and see that they're totally unaware of my presence.

Are they unaware because they're so intent on the road in front of them, their children are screaming so loudly they're about to pull over or because their car is somehow on fire? No.

While all of those are acceptable reasons to not be noticed, usually they're on their cell phone, eating, looking for something in a bag on the seat next to them, trying to tune their radio or reading.

I have done all of the above, except reading, so I can't complain too much. My pet peeve isn't with the fact they do these things. It's with the fact they have no common sense when it comes to doing it.

If you can't feel things out with your hands with only occasional glances to help you out, then you shouldn't do it and if you can't be on the phone without slowing to a crawl then get off the phone or off the road. Those are your only options that will allow you to stay anwhere near my good graces.

Reading, however, isn't something that should be done on the road. Checking a map or directions? Sure, I can see that. Again, it should be done in quick bursts.

A person shouldn't wait until they get all the way into Tiffin and into downtown before checking to see what street they need to turn off on. Figure it out before you have to pay attention to those pesky street lights. If your memory is that bad, then maybe you should re-think the whole driving thing anyway.

Then there are the real Einsteins of the driving world. They somehow manage to put on makeup, write or even type while driving. I'm not sure how it's done. I'm guessing it's not often successful.

So if you're out on the road, keep your eyes where they need to be and only deal with distractions if they're absolutely necessary and if you aren't near anything or anyone that could cause an accident.

No sandwich, story or lipstick is worth your life and it certainly isn't worth mine.

~Chandra 

Say my name

Every once in a while I have an identity crisis. It usually happens in a restaurant or on the sales floor of a store. Sometimes on the phone with a customer service rep.  Without warning, my name disappears into the ether and I become "honey," "sweetie" or "doll."

I hate it when people call me by affectionate nicknames. Seriously, would it be okay if I called the news editor "dreamboat" when I handed over the press releases?

My grandma or anyone her age can probably pull it off and I won't complain out of respect for my elders. My mother can do it because she brought me into this world and she can take me out of it.

Unless I tell you otherwise, my name is Mariah, Ms. Mercer or ma'am.

- Mariah

Hate it when that happens

I hate it when thingsdon't work out. You have a beautiful idea, you put it into action and, well, something is sure to get in your way...

See what I mean?

-Linda