Times have changed a great deal since I was a kid. This is, in no way, the story of my grandfather who "walked 5 miles up hill, in the snow to the ARMY recruiter office and go to WWII just to have a chance of getting out of Kentucky to see a decent stripper". This is more a story of how my generation has to REALLY get pissed to rise up from the constant baseline of "Lazy".
|Marci from the Big Apple|
When I was a kid if you wanted to "like" something, you had to send them a letter claiming your intent to join the fan club. You would then wait 6-8 weeks for a letter in the mail with the signed photograph and a packet of stickers for your Trapper Keeper. This is at least what I was told. I was always to lazy to write those letters. Even when I did write them, I was too lazy to find a stamp for them, and then don't even get me started on walking to the mailbox. I always wanted to join the Fat Boys, Bon Jovi, and Dustin Diamond fan clubs. But alas, I never got around to it.I almost got through my entire childhood without owning one photograph signed by a celebrity...
I said almost.
It all started while sitting at the breakfast table reading the entire box of cereal while eating my frosted mini-wheat squares with fruit in the middle. I have never been one to decide on anything, so I would use 2 boxes and mix the strawberry and blueberry together. Though food mixing has always been my specialty, it still irritates me that products are not served ready to eat. Life would be SO much easier if I didn't have to add my own rainbow sprinkles to my bagels, add my own gummy bears to my salads, add my own bacon to my ice cream, add my own Vodka to my juice or add my own methamphetamine to my coffee. I decided that I would finally write a letter requesting to join a fan club, under the one stipulation... that they sell a mixed box of cereal to save me time in the morning.
It was a bout 6-8 weeks later that I checked the mail and had a postcard from Cornelius Rooster, Dig'em the Frog, Toucan Sam, and Tony the Tiger (as you know, these are the executives at Kellogg's). They never commented on my genius idea that would have made their little company millions of dollars. They made no mention of what a "forward thinker" I was, or how they had never received such a well written letter.
Before I could get upset, I noticed that on the front of the postcard was a group photograph of all the executives and their friends. Under each picture, there was a tiny little autograph. Besides the exec's, I had the autographs of Snap, Crackle and Pop, Coco the Monkey, and Sunny the Sun.
They never confirmed my acceptance into the fan club, but it doesn't matter. If we are judged by how many celebrity autographs we had by the time we left middle school, I knew I was going win at life.