Random Misanthropy

1. Pink Is The New Blecch

Blecch – consistently so spelled — was a routine part of the vocabulary of Mad magazine, at least the classic glorious organ of caricature and satire, not the puerile broadsheet that appeared post-William Gaines. It was pretty good onomatopeia for the sound of someone hurling lunch.

The word flitted through my mind last weekend when I pulled into the Gold’s parking lot and discovered that there is one thing wrong with having a gym next to an REI storefront. REI has these periodic member special sale dates where they flog pup tents and Coleman lanterns and ski racks and what-all at what must be astronomical bargain prices, because a parking lot that I bet is nearly a quarter-mile in length and four rows deep was utterly crammed and a line of people snaked out the door of the store around the far corner of the commercial block.

Half of them seemed to have brought their kids with them.

Some of those kids were little girls.

Every single one of the little girls, as God is my witness, was wearing a coat in the identical lurid shade of jelly-bean pink. It was as if they were in training for one of the Susan G. Komen walks, or a bomb had gone off in a lipstick factory.

When did this horrible, shrieking, plasticky, not-found-in-nature color become the obligatory hue for little girls’ attire (and toys and rooms and duffel bags)? What is it doing to their brains? It is near as dammit to the Baker-Miller paint that for a brief time was believed to calm down rumbustious drunks and violent inmates of correctional facilities. Maybe it is meant to make little girls docile, a sly plot by corporate manipulators. Except:

Research has shown conflicting results on the effects of Baker-Miller pink.[5] While the initial results at the Naval Correctional facility in Seattle were positive, calming those exposed, inmates at the Santa Clara county jail were trying to scratch the paint from the walls with their fingernails when exposed for more than fifteen minutes. At John Hopkins, appetite suppression was observed and studied.

No shit.

2. Dairy Queens

WTF is it about approaching snow that makes people think they are going to need gallons and gallons and gallons of milk?

I usually shop on Thursdays, but we are looking down the barrels of a big snow whack here — maybe eight inches — and I figured I had better get it over with by noon today at the latest. The store was only moderately crowded, but the dairy case was already ravaged. You would think someone had a swimming pool to fill.

It’s going to be forty on Friday; the roads won’t be instantly clear, I know, but by Sunday or so I expect we’ll be able to get around. Do these people usually buy a jug of milk every day of their mortal lives?

It happens every time.


11 thoughts on “Random Misanthropy

  1. I had a bright yellow snow coat as a wee wan. I hated yellow. I wouldn’t have liked pink, either. Blue or purple would have been okay. I didn’t have much choice as a kid, I wonder who exactly IS enforcing the overwhelming pink preference? Sadly it seems, despite all my sister’s efforts, her daughter likes it. Sis is not amused. Seems no one understands why but me and her. I’ll just keep sending my niece Irish rugby clothing and hope for the best…

    I believe I used the word blecch recently, either on FB or the blog. Yep, I loved Mad Magazine, and still have a good stack of well-loved ones from the 70’s. Also a couple of Cracked – I’m happy they have found a new life online.

    I don’t go shopping, thank fuck, so I couldn’t speak as to if the Irish go milk-mad when inclement weather is on the way. Socks is in Walkersville and had snow over 18inches by about lunchtime, so pretty bad around your neck o the woods I’d guess?

  2. About the girlification of girls’ commodities:


    Well, if ‘d had girls, then their mom would have undermined that anti-feminist feminized marketing and encouraged them to come along when I asked them to help me fix the truck. Alas I only heaped upon the world a couple of very anti-sexist young men, but we need those too.

    All that aside, the Lego Movie was awesome. Ooh, maybe I should carve out a few minutes and blog as to why I think so. Hmm.

    • We do need cool guys who have no patience with gender stereotypes. I remember how dismayed I was back in the early 80s when a guy fixed an excellent dinner for me — so I figured he had gotten past pink and blue — and then asked why I wanted to be so strong since guys would always do things like change tires for me. Eeek!

    • Likewise, though maybe it was just because of the implications. I once nearly smashed a pink party favor I got when I was about six — it was a little plastic swan, and the boys got blue ones, which made me feel put in a box — and then I felt sorry for it because it wasn’t the swan’s fault. I kept it for years.

  3. Yes! Blecch! From the days when MM helped mold my weltanschauung. Like the F-word, it has huge versatility as a noun, verb, adjective, adverb, etc.

    Re pink. Yes. Just got back from a trip and they are now all carrying little pink roller bag carry on luggage. With matching back packs and tennis shoes that flash pink lights when they walk. Except they don’t walk. They hop and run and squeal.

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