Final Burger and Pet Peeves

The Final Burger
Several people were wondering after the last posting exactly what kind of burger I ordered at Zinburger and what that might suggest about me. For those of you who want to know, here’s the rest of the story… As I usually do, I ordered a “Samburger” on that fateful eve (which is a burger with bacon and cheese – quite delicious). So what does this suggest, you might ask? Is there some connection to the bacon (some subconcious “pig-man” type of thing) or is it the name itself that compels me to place this particular order. I would say the latter (I don’t think I want to be a pig-man) and that this probably suggests a deep-seated and latent desire to be named “Sam.” If only, I often think as I lay tossing and turning late and night, I had been named Sam. How different my life would have been. A life filled with action, adventure, romance, suspense, and drama – a life including alien abductions, thwarted love, suffering and torment and overcoming unbelievable odds - instead of the plain old humdrum life that is mine. Actually, that’s more the life of someone named “Jack” than someone named “Sam” so if there was a “Jackburger” this scenario might make more sense (which makes me wonder, exactly why a burger with bacon is called a “Samburger” in the first place – was it invented by someone named Sam or is Sam the word for bacon in some exotic language and locale?). So if that’s not it, perhaps there’s some other “Sam” connection. I do remember I once had a friend named Sam who lived down the block. And I was always jealous of Sam because he had all the newest and coolest GI Joe paraphernalia (like the GI Joe tower that had a zip line and working searchlight, and the six-wheeled all terrain vehicle/mobile command post that also had a working searchlight, and a really cool wind-powered vehicle with wheels and a sail that we used to take outside so that GI Joe could go whooshing down the sidewalk, and other various/sundry cool stuff). Or maybe my Sam connection is related to the first dog I remember our family owning, a fat old basset hound who used to lie in the middle of the road by our house. Or it could come down to the simple fact that I really like bacon on my burger. Who’s to say?

These are a few of my least favorite things
With apologies to Julie Andrews, there are certain things that are just annoying. Not major, earth-shattering things that make your stomach turn and your heart hurt, just minor peeves that itch under the skin and make you grit your teeth slightly and question the laws of the universe. Several of those things reared their heads the other day, and they are as follows.

First on the list is “Aqua Boot Camp,” which is held every Tuesday and Thursday morning at 5:30 in the pool at the Y. This is the pool where I put in my laps every Tuesday and Thursday at 5:30, and up until the advent of “Aqua Boot Camp,” these morning constitutionals were peaceful and soothing, and I would be able to get in a quality workout along with a few other dedicated souls who rose before the sun to soak up the chlorine. But now, we have “Aqua Boot Campers” joining us, and they’ve recently expanded into a group of a dozen or so, when I was hoping they would just fade away after a couple of weeks. So I’m fearing that they’re probably here to stay. What’s so bad about this, you might ask? What’s wrong with a program that gets people out and exercising? Well, sure, that’s a good thing, but here’s what bugs me about the whole situation. First, they’ve now taken yet another lane (up from two lanes to three) from the lap-swimmers (leaving us with only three), which means we often have to “circle swim” which is pretty much a hassle. Second, they play loud, really cruddy music (like “Heart of Glass” by Blondie - only this isn’t the version by Blondie, it’s a cover band version made to fit a particular tempo conducive to Aqua Boot Camping and once you’ve heard it, it’s stuck in your head for the rest of the day). Third, the person running the boot camp is drearily cheerful for 5:30 in the morning, cheering on her “Aqua Boot Campers” as they tread water and dance in the water and gyrate in the water. I was under the impression (from my extensive experience as a viewer of movies portraying boot camp) that boot camp is about demanding drill sergeants who berate naïve young souls for being “namby-pambys” not people who encourage and urge on in a positive and cheerful manner, telling everyone what a “great job” they’re doing as they tread water and dance in the water and gyrate in the water. Fourth, and perhaps most annoying of all, the annoyingly cheerful person running the boot camp wears camouflage. Every day. I peek over at her every once in awhile through my slightly foggy goggles and shake my head in disgust – because I have to tell you, she’s not blending into the background at all, and isn’t that the point of camouflage (to blend into the background)? And if she’s not trying to blend into the background, what the heck is she doing wearing camouflage? It’s just wrong.

Second on the list is people who refuse to put their dog on a leash. I get that there are some very well-trained dogs who probably don’t need a leash, and that don’t chase after people who are running and try to bite them, but there are a lot of other dogs that aren’t that well-trained, and they do chase after people who are running and they do try to bite them, and that’s exactly what happened the other day, ironically enough, just outside a dog park that I was running by. This person who refused to put their dog on a leash let their dog run over to the dog park entrance (so it could say, “Hello,” to one of its dog friends) while she was getting out of the car, and sure enough, when the dog spotted me running by, it barked and chased and snapped at me, making me very uncomfortable, so I said something along the lines of, “I would greatly appreciate it if you would keep your dog on a leash so that it doesn’t chase after me and try to bite me,” to which she responded, “He’s only trying to play,” to which I responded, “He tried to rip out my Achilles tendon,” to which she responded by getting huffy, (and her response – surprise, surprise - was supported by all the other people with their dogs in the dog park, who booed and hissed at me for getting upset about being chased and snapped at by a dog that wasn’t on a leash).

Third on the list is people who drive great big trucks with horse trailers on dirt roads by my house and try to run me over – even though it’s a dirt road with just about no traffic on it and I’m way over on the side of the road. Just after the dog incident, I was running along the side of the dirt road near my house, and this big truck with a big horse trailer passed by going very slowly and as soon as the truck passed me, the driver cut immediately in front of me to turn into a driveway, forcing me to stop, or I would have run smack dab into his truck. So I stopped and waited for him to turn very slowly and waited for the trailer to follow him very slowly, and I wondered what the heck was the matter with him to do such a thing. But I guess he proved his point (whatever it was).

Whew – glad to get all that off my chest. Until next time, may your peeves be paltry, may your Achilles tendons remain intact, and may your burgers remain Sam-a-licious.