Ms.CRANKY is a nice enough person who gets upset when people are thoughtless. That's what she writes about. Ms.CRANKY feels that it's real easy to have the world humming along kindly and even (dare she say) sweetly. You just have to use common sense and say --- "Would I want someone to swing a long pointy umbrella in my face"?
BECAUSE IT’S HARD TO REPEAT THINGS MUCH AS SHE OFTEN WANTS TO
Ms. Cranky was on her way out of town to a conference, lugging her suitcase which is heavy empty (‘whatta you want for $40 and wheels that haven’t fallen off in 14 years --- Samsonite?’) and she was just at the bottom of the stairs near the subway when she heard it making getting-ready-to-leave sounds and Cranky began hollering real loud --- ‘Please hold, Please hold’ to two young women just boarding.But, they both ignored Ms. Cranky like totally ignored her and she finally got on the train at the last second by hurling her suitcase through the subway door till she could get in.She was flabbergasted that neither woman had paid her any attention when she looked down the aisle and saw a lovely woman in veil shaking her head sadly at Ms. Cranky, commiserating on how unresponsive the women had been.
Ms. Cranky wanted to holler to the whole subway car --- “Welcome to our worldof now!!!” but, of course, she didn’t.Instead, Cranky thought (kindly) --- ‘maybe those women had those things dangling from their ears and couldn’t hear Ms. Cranky, yeah, maybe that’s what happened.’Ms. Cranky always tries to see the good in the world though that has caused her a lot of heartache.But, when she looked to see if the women had those wire things dangling from their ears, they didn’t, and, in fact, one of the women was just inserting them into her waiting ears as Ms. Cranky looked on.
It made Ms. Cranky sad, like the people that read their phones while walking in front of her and move at a snail’s pace.Read in the library, why don’t you???Read at your damn kitchen table, not on the street and, surely, not going up the stairs from the subway when people are dying to get up and out. It made her sad that some people didn’t care about others, actually, lots of people, it seemed of late.What had happened to her world???The world that had been her playground?
Cranky tries to be helpful almost all the time, unless she’s in a trance which can happen, and this uncaring behavior hurt her soul.If you care, your soul can hurt a lot but Cranky still thinks it’s worth it --- caring.
But, onward and upward --- when Cranky arrived at Penn Station with her heavy-even-when-it’s-empty suitcase, a young man asked if he could help her carry it down the stairs and Cranky was touched and, then, another man held the door for her and Ms. Cranky’s spirits quickly rose.You probably know this already but Ms. Cranky’s spirits rise very easily with thesmallest of kindnesses and consideration so she decided these two guys outweighed the two women back in Brooklyn.It takes so little to make Ms. Cranky happy, so little, she feels lucky in that regard.
In Boston, people were so helpful, Cranky almost couldn’t control herself.They just jumped to help her with directions and very good directions at that which was lovely because Ms. Cranky, who thinks of herself as a great traveler and prolific with directions and maps, could not find her way around that city very easily as the signs left a lot to the imagination.Ms. Cranky mentioned the problem she was having a few times to Bostonians who said that signage and directions were a real problem in their city which struck Ms. Cranky as sooo very strange because she thought that the Boston area had a university or college every other block.So, Cranky assumed (and who wouldn’t?) that the area would be full of smarty pants people who would install good clear signs.
But, instead, Ms. Cranky had to rely on the average most-helpful citizen for assistance and they were wonderful but they pay taxes --- shouldn’t there be good signs for out-of-towners so, maybe, they could be about their other business on any given day? Ms. Cranky wonders about a lot of things, things that should be so simple that are made unnecessarily not so.Why muddle life more when it can be muddled enough on its own? --- she always thinks.
The conference trip was a frustrating one which Cranky wasn’t expecting for many reasons --- finding her way on public transit was harder than usual, a major snow storm came as soon as she arrived off the old BOLT bus and left streets and sidewalks overwhelmed with snow and freezing slush that went through Ms. Cranky’s only pair of shoes she had with her.She had truly loved this conference a few years ago but this year it was so crowded that Ms. Cranky could not get near most of the sessions she wanted to get to in her wet clothes.But, not to be daunted, Ms. Cranky loves to dance and there was a disco at night.So, she ran up to the hotel with the dance the first night and found it too overly-crowded and, mostly, the dance floor was quaking beneath her and even though someone assured her that the floor could hold all the vibration, it put a damper on Ms. Cranky’s already damp spirits --- like her wet socks, shoes, hair and coat.
Ms. Cranky’s memories sometimes defeat her.She is a hopeless romantic, very hopeless sometimes.And, she cherished the memory of the other conference a few years back in another city, the first one she had attended.It was in a smaller locale, she could get a seat to hear speakers and the dance floor surely didn’t shake and, in fact, Ms. Cranky and a new-found friend were the only people up dancing and then they pulled everyone up from around them and they all danced and hooted and hollered and laughed till Donna Summers (so sad Donna’s gone) sang.People on the way out were laughing and happy and thanking Ms. Cranky and her friend for urging them to get up.It was so much fun but it didn’t happen like that again.
And, at the ‘other’ conference, it did not snow --- well, a flake or two.The problem with Ms. Cranky’s very powerful good memories is that they can make her miserable as she wants everything to be the same as it was that other time, when because of a job, she had only one day and one evening to spend but it was like miraculous, every bit of it.She can recall each moment.
Ms. Cranky has the problem of always wanting to repeat things that she loves but that is hard to do. She is like a five-year old child clinging to her dreams.Ouii.In time, Ms. Cranky couldn’t wait to get home on the BOLT bus with the lovely (and cute!) driver and knelt on the floor inside her door when she got home, by the eastern-facing window, and thanked God for letting her get home safely --- to start again.
Thanks for stopping by. Have a great day, sun's sneaking out here. Ms. Cranky. March 20, 2013
Ms. Cranky went out to hear music at her old local bar late on the afternoon of St. Patrick’s Day and it was nice except that it was the last day for a very old bar and it was to be closed and ‘refurbished’ and Ms. Cranky and most of her neighbors feared that meant like changed and fancied up and “only for upscale people, not the likes of you!” ---which most of the new food and drink places in Ms. Cranky’s once more ‘mixed’ area, now had become, for the gentrified folk.
Ms. Cranky, and she has said this before in her columns, is still surprised that some of the gentry in her area still cannot tell the difference between paper and metal recycling and, in fact, in her building, actually change it totally around???She is amazed anew each time that if you are a person with a good job (or parents) to pay the vastly increased rents, and you be able to read the word ‘paper’ and know it doesn’t mean your old bean cans.
So, it was fun but sad yesterday afternoon but, then, Cranky remembered a place up the way that had FREE FOOD on St. Patrick’s and used to have people just drop in with musical instruments and play in this lovely rounded alcove area, so Cranky hiked up there and looked for her cat’s upcoming birthday present on her way.But, though there was free food, always nice, there was no music at all, Irish or otherwise on this St. Patrick’s Day. Apparently, the people had stopped coming by on Sunday nights to play music quite a while ago, she was told by the waitress which made her sad.
One of Ms. Cranky’s lovely memories of this place is the story she heard from the people who worked there.They had assumed that after 9/11, which was on a Tuesday, that no one would show up for that Sunday’s evening of music-making --- but, that didn’t happen.They told Ms. Cranky that, in fact, a huge crowd of people and more musicians than ever came in and played their hearts out that evening, that Sunday after the horrors of 9/11, trying perhaps to bring back our lives, however they could.Ms. Cranky has long cherished that story and wanted to pass it on to you.
Happy St. Patrick’s Day everyone and tomorrow is St, Joseph’s Day and Ms. Cranky’s beautiful cat’s 7th birthday.Cranky has always loved St. Joseph and felt he got short shrift in the PR department of the Catholic Church. Maybe the new Pope can change that one!!!
Thanks for, as always, stopping by.‘May the wind be ever at your back’, etc.