Dear Diary …
Let me start by saying … I like it here. I’ve lived in a bunch of different places, and Virginia is actually my favorite. Funny irony of that, is that when I was in college, I had a roommate with Virginia plates on his car. And I very distinctly remember thinking, “Virginia? Who the heck lives in Virginia? I’ve never met anybody in my whole life from that place. What a weirdo” And poof … here I am … Virginia! (And happy to be on.e)
That said … this state is messed. Oh wait, I’m sorry. This COMMONWEALTH is messed up.
I mean, all last week, everywhere I went, I say police officers just sittin’ there waitin’ … for YOU to speed and for them to write you a ticket. Heck, not even speeding, my wife got stopped one day for a “license check,” which is something I didn’t even know they did. But Meanwhile, you know what was going on around here at the same time? Crime! Have you seen the numbers for the city of Roanoke? Let’s just say … we’re number one, and this is not an award that we want to be winning.
Now I don’t fault the po-po … they’re just doing what their told. But why are they being told to babysit the general public when they should be spending their time stopping actual crime?
Or how about this compromise … you wanna have the police sit in random parking lots waiting for speeders? Then have them do it in bank parking lots, since we seem to love to rob those around here. Ta-DA! Two birds with one stone. You’re welcome.
And it doesn’t stop there … they tried to propose a law last week to legally limit the amount of people you can have at your house for a cookout. Your house … your burgers and dogs … but they’re in charge of the guest list. Oh yeah, that makes total sense. So that graduation party you throw at your house this month for your kid? Probably illegal.
And while we’re talkin’ grads … the state … I mean the COMMONWEALTH … Is actually spending money on a campaign to remind you that “it’s illegal to give scratch tickets to somebody under the age of 18, so we’re gonna bust you if you give one to a kid at a graduation party.” This is what we’re wasting our time on? And again … while we’re doing this, what else is happening? Crime!
It’s a Nanny State … Nanny COMMONWEALTH … whatever. Point is, I don’t want a nanny. At least not this kind of nanny. You wanna be a nanny state? Fine. Then you do what actual nannies do and you show up at my house tonight at seven o’clock and handle bath time with my two little rugrats while Mommy and Daddy can enjoy a cocktail together. That’s your job as a nanny. You ain’t even doin’ the nanny part right.
OK … moving on Diary … I just need to ask … because pretty much everybody is familiar with a camera, right? I think it’s safe to say we’ve all used one. Heck … most of us now carry one 24-7 on our phones, so I would say we all have a pretty good idea of the concept of the camera and how it works. And yet, when you’re out with a group of people, and you decide you want a picture of the whole group, why is it that the person you ask to take the picture … no matter what they are … young, old, man, woman … that person acts like this is the first picture they’ve ever taken in their entire lives?
Wait … what do I do? Point it over here? And then I push a button? Did I get it? Did I take the picture?
My son knows how to use a camera. He’s two. What is your deal?
And the picture quality? Forget it. Fuzzy … too far away … nine miles of headroom above everybody in the picture. Terrible!
Now I know you people can take pictures. You flood my social media feeds with all the pictures of your little booger eaters and every single thing they do in their lives. So why can’t you take one picture for somebody else when called upon?
Till next time Diary … I say, goodbye.