Star gripes...

No no no... this ain't about Kimmel...or, The View, The Real, any Oscar/Grammy waving (mebbe well intended) do-gooder.

This is about me, the entitled one.. Entitled to gripe that is...  I'm old, it's legal, expected, ya damn right.  You can't gripe when there's moisture behind your ears... ya can't gripe if ya ain't changed a kajilion diapers...raised them kids to leave the roost..

You can't gripe if you still clock in, drive the commute, get a full, real, bonified paycheck..... When getting your exercise means grabbing the damn grab bar to moan and groan as ya get yourself off the toilet stool - that, THAT's when you can gripe. When. you. are. OLD.

Retired.  I have a full supplement of (let's see.. 6 and 1/2 hours sleep... a 30 minute nap.... ok, bite me, two 30 minute naps..   That leaves.. hang on a sec, gotta take off my houseslippers 'cause the total is over 10.... ok, 11, 12, 13... and one to grow on... SIXTEEN AND ONE-HALF waking hours per day with absolutely nothing scheduled.

How can one be disgustingly happy, chirpy, "toppa the day to ya" for SIXTEEN AND ONE-HALF hours?

You can't.  So, when you're old, and you've got that 1992 Buick in the gayrage that's got 73,000 miles on it 'cause you only drive to church and the Piggly Wiggly and back.. one is entitled to gripe.

I ain't a Star.  By "Star gripes", I mean the paper.  I was on a trip.  I wadn't supposed to return until Saturday... but since I personally don't own onea them 92 Buicks, I had car trouble, came home early..  as in Tuesday night.  I had arranged for the Kansas City Star to be cancelled until Saturday, but now I'm home, bored, and i've got extra time (after 10-12 hours of chirpiness) for griping, as well as for... reading the paper like I normally do.

So, yesterday morning, I Pavlov dogged it to Quick Trip... grabbed a copy of the Star.  "That'll be $2.72 sir."  WHAT (I said to myself.. I was still within my 10-12 chirpy hours)... I pay $25 a month for daily delivery.  Last time I bought a paper (a Monday thru Friday paper, and it ain't been that long ago) it was a dollar.

Aware the Sunday paper was always more ($2),, then, the scissorbills had the gall to stick some inserts in the Saturday paper, raise it's rate to $2.. hmmmppff,,  Old/entitled/griped.  Besides, I had a buddy that wrote for The Star, they always forced him (and everyone who worked there) to take two weeks off without pay, annually..  then, they actually got ridda him altogether and plastered in generic articles from partner newspapers around the US instead.  Yuck.  Where was I?  Oh yea.....

Being retired, entitlement to gripe is anything that's over a dime difference than normal, and this is A DOLLAR AND SEVENTY-TWO cents over normal.  Wadn't the QT dudes fault, so I paid and continued on my way to usurp my diet and fetch a 300 burger from the bowling alley whilst I read the paper.

I was pretty sure I had the annual note I get from my newspaper carrier (with his phone # on it) from Christmas where he (annually) states "Thank You"and continues on (and on) to relate what a rough year it's been. (He must be old too.)  Now I was never A or B smart, I carried a C+ average, but to me, this dude annually pines for a big tip.

I really am a good tipper. Not much I'm good at, but I am good at that.  Usually a little over 30% at a restaurant cause I know they're only makin' $3-4 an hour to look chirpy, get my order right.

Cleavage.  When i think of my carrier's annual kinda begging greeting (it's really a really begging greeting) I think of cleavage.  Now I enjoy me some cleavage.  Most men, even the ones that know ED.. you know ED?  Even them there ones, enjoy cleavage.  Too too much cleavage, nuh uh, has the reverse effect.  Turn, run.  So when I annually get my carrier's greeting, I turn, run.  I thought I'd saved his note and I was gonna text him to restart my paper this morning, Thursday.  Nope, couldn't find it.

So.... around one-ish (Wednesday) I called the Star Customer Service Department to get my paper re-started.  You get there by pressing the mandated six entrees before you are patched thru to a live person... well... a "your call will be answered in the order" on hold person...   After I'd eaten six bites from my 300 burger, and had 16 French Fries.. the lady finally came on the line.

She knew who I was from caller ID, and in turn verified my addy.  "Yes.. and I had a restart setup for Saturday, but I came home early, so I'd like to restart my paper on Thursday. (Again, it's Wednesday).  "Well I'll be glad to help you with that sir, but the soonest we could begin delivery would be Friday,"

Lemme see if I got this correct.  The Knicks play the Sonics tonight in Seattle at 8pm Pacific, and the score will be in the paper tomorrow, but I'm 14 miles from you, you have the carrier's phone number, it's 1pm Central Wednesday, and you can't start my paper until Friday?  I never said any of that (I was still in my chirpy 10-12 hours) but I certainly thought it.

So....... I remembered awhile ago this morning I could get the paper online since I was a subscriber, I wiped the cobwebs off my laptop... just finished reading my "paper".. so I thought I'd share my bitch, gripe, bad mood, because, again (listen close this time) it's what we old, entitled, grumpy-ass people do.

Yikes.

Thanks, I feel better.

I'm gonna log back into the Star... see if I can find me onea them low mileage little old lady 92 Buicks... Town Car of Grand Marquis would work too... yeah yeah yeah, i know they're all rear wheel drive cars... the hell, they never scrape the streets around here like they should anyways, I ain't goin' nowhere in the snow.

(Happy almost birthday to my February 29th born cousin... dang, now there's cause to gripe)..

Eternally grumpy,

Love, Victurd