Remember when...

we were treated like adults? Back in the good ol’ days. When people took personal responsibility and pilots didn’t leave the seat belt light on for the entire flight. I was treated more like an adult when I was ten years old than I am at forty-four. It’s preposterous. Captains used to turn the light off the second we reached ten thousand feet. Now it stays on until you’re in danger of peeing in your seat. God forbid you stub your toe and sue Southwest. These regulations are getting out of control. It’s too damn much. We have high-tech gadgets but are in a downward spiral to diapers. I like walking down the aisle when a little turbulence hits. I like the challenge. I slide my hand along the storage bins to keep myself steady—not bothering people’s headrests. Inefficient people are ruining life. With their dependency and opportunistic attitude. The dude behind me has been talking non-stop in an extremely boom-y voice ever since we sat on the plane. He’s talking at his neighbor. It’s not a conversation. I don’t know how he’s breathing. He hasn’t paused in forty-five minutes. Perhaps he knows a secret breathe-through-your-nose-while-you-pontificate trick. Two of my biggest annoyances: being treated like a child and inconsiderate people. If I’m not steady on my feet, I won’t get up during light turbulence. And if I fall off the toilet while I’m peeing, I won’t sue the airline. I’ll laugh and curse myself for not having ass cheeks that clamp to the seat. Frivolous lawsuits have killed America. I don’t need a label on Petroleum Jelly warning me not to ingest it. I know better.

Or if I happened to like Petroleum Jelly on toast, it’s my body and my choice. Those warnings demean my intelligence and my capacity to reason. I hate it. I had two decades without heavy-duty-cut-yourself sealed packaging and a list of warnings on everything. What are we doing? Why are we dumbing down? Why can’t people turn their cell phones off before the plane takes off? Or wait fifteen minutes to put their trays down? Why do they make the poor sods tell them a hundred times? Do people like being treated like first graders? Do they not want to think for themselves? Not this lass. I know right from wrong. I know the fundamental rules. I know not to harm others and that Red Bull will not actually give me wings. I don’t need to be controlled or coddled. I don’t want a car that can drive by itself. That’s horrifying. I’d like separate worlds, one for lazy fucks who don’t want to think for themselves, who want their world controlled by others and someone to wipe their ass, and one for the rest of us. Those of us who pay attention. Who have our cash/ATM card out so the clerk doesn’t have to ask for it. I want a world filled with people who know how to make a left-hand turn in Los Angeles. A world without warnings on a fucking loaf of bread, and people who pay attention to their surroundings. I want the seventies with smart phones.