Random observations

Over the past few days, I've accumulated a random assortment of observations that I'll submit for your review and possible amusement.

1) Last week, my dissertation research focused on Georgia history. There's really nothing like reading southern history. You just never know what you'll learn. For example, I learned that the state of Georgia didn't ratify the Bill of Rights until 1939. That's right, 1939. More than 100 years after our forefathers added the amendments to the US Constitution, apparently ignoring Georgia's obstinate objections. So, why bother to ratify the Bill of Rights in 1939? Well, apparently, the Great Depression was pretty darn great and depressing in Georgia. Bad enough that the state finally ended its 100 year temper tantrum and agreed that perhaps, the right to bear arms wasn't so bad after all.

2) In a related story, the local paper carried a report about a camp for 8-18 year olds. At the week-long camp, young kids learned how to fire guns safely. According to the report, one camper picked up a spent shell casing and held it to his nose, "because he likes the smell of gunpowder." I wondered if Yankee Candle has found a new market - "New scent from Yankee Candle: Gunpowder. Your eight year-olds will love it." Well, probably not Yankee Candle. Maybe Southern Redneck Candle. At least it would be a safer way for this youngster to indulge his olfactory predilections.

3) The other day, I went to the local grocery store. As I drove past the stores in the attached strip mall, a young man stepped off the curb right in front of my car. I slammed on the brakes, squealing to a stop. He looked startled, waved to me, then walked off, with his tub of vitamins, or whatever he bought at the "get muscles NOW" store. I drove on, thinking, "Why bother with vitamins if you're just going to walk out in front of cars?" Perhaps he's hoping to get so buff that he can just bounce off of cars. It's going to be one hell of a testing period for him.

4) Children don't like Target. I don't know why parents insist on torturing their children by taking them there. Denying them toys "because you just got one yesterday," forcing them to ride in carts with larger siblings who hog the whole seat, not letting them pull the price tags off of unpurchased merchandise, forcing pre-pubescent boys to trail along through the women's underwear (OK, that one IS unreasonable). I've never been around so many miserable children in my life.

5) Speaking of underwear, it's called underwear for a reason. If your clothes don't cover your undergarments, your clothes are too small. Even if it's hot and humid out, your clothes, at a bare minimum, should cover your underwear. This is what I thought as I looked at a woman in short, short, short shorts, a tank top and a black bra. I don't know this woman and there's no good reason why I should be able to tell you what color her bra was. And, her shorts were camouflage print. Given the brevity of the garment, I'm left wondering what she hoped to accomplish. Seriously. Is it really helpful if the six inches from her waist to the bottom of her hips disappear in the woods? People, animals, and whatever else she encounters are still going to see the hot pink tank top and the bottom half of her ass hanging out of the shorts.

6) And finally, speaking of camouflage, someone in my apartment complex owns a camouflage row boat. What's the point of that? Unless you're planning to keep the boat on the shore or in the woods, why paint it camouflage? And if you're not going to take it out on the water, you could have a camouflage bench and accomplish the same thing. Do they think people will look out on the water and wonder why there's a big bush floating down the river? Or maybe fish will look up and think, "Whew, I thought that was a boat, but no, it's just a bush. I think I'll swim closer and get that fat worm magically suspended in the water." I just don't understand why you'd want a camouflage boat.