Lifestyles of the rich and ridiculous...

Some days I like to pretend that I'm 14-years-old again (or a skating nun), and tool around the Retirement Mecca (better known as Boca Raton) on my rollerblades. It is relaxing, great exercise, and the weather is gorgeous. But most importantly, you are much better able to catch a lot of those little nuances that are often missed, thanks to the modern convenience of the automobile (these Americans and their fancy, newfangled gadgets!). Basically, you see interesting, disturbing and/or absurd things that would normally fly by the car window too fast to take notice.

I've already mentioned the vast senior citizen population of South Florida, many of whom frequent the early bird specials and matinee movies (which sounds a lot like me...but only because I'm poor). I can't tell for certain due to lack of experience, but the extremely heightened senses indicate to me that most people over 60 are potential superheroes. A person surpasses that landmark age and suddenly they become either allergic, alerted or irritated by previously normal things like sunlight, sound, taste, smell, and temperature. It's always too bright, loud, spicy, cold, hot, or it smells funny. Put a 70-year-old man on a lawn chair next to a stereo, swab him down with coconut-scented suntan lotion, hand him a chimichanga, turn on a cooling fan, and he will probably self-combust from sensory overload. In my opinion, the elderly need to harness these powers, and use them for good...not for sending back food, running me off the road, and being condescending.




But enough about my friends of a far-off generation; a little known fact is that while the greater majority of this city are already collecting social security checks and pensions, there is also a large sector of upper class suburbia. I like to refer to these happy citizens simply as rich people and their spoiled, disillusioned kids. I apologize to any rich people who do not have spoiled kids, but let's face it, the majority of these neglectful, overindulgent, socially clueless debutant wannabe's are breeding a bunch of ungrateful, disrespectful jackasses and future therapy patients.



In the famous words of Peter Griffin from Family Guy, these are some things that 'really grind my gears':

There is absolutely no reason for an 8-year-old to have a Blackberry. A third-grader pulling out a PDA is like slapping me across the face with a tuna. Seriously, is little Jimmy going to a miss a meeting with an important client? Does he need to be notified when his secretary emails the numbers? Or maybe he needs to send a text message about the new G.I. Joe. Please.



I saw a 10-year-old girl order a Diet Coke at dinner with her dad, and I wanted to cry. Mom? Dad? Why oh why is your perfectly healthy child even considering the notion of cutting her calories? I understand that sugary sodas aren't too great either, but give the girl some juice, teach her about drinking water. I'm in my mid-twenties and my dad still gets pissed when I drink diet soda.



Ridalin. Yes, that's the answer, give the kids drugs. This way they can have their addiction run full circle and be in and out of rehab by puberty. Whatever happened to sit down and shut up? Worked for me.




These 3 teenage boys got pulled over in my neighborhood for driving wrecklessly in a golf cart. A golf cart! When did it become acceptable or necessary to drive a golf cart anywhere other than a golf course? Can we literally not walk anywhere, anymore? Not to be all 'I walked 12 miles to school...both ways...in the snow...with no shoes...and no socks," but come on, when I was a kid I didn't need a motorized vehicle to go play on the swingset 2 doors down. These same morons will probably get Bentley's on their sixteenth birthdays.



But back to my rollerblading. I saw entirely too many of these:




And not enough of these:




Leash your offspring.

And donate to the hopelessly idealistic working class: me.