May 21, 2004
Precious Cargo on Board
You know what chaps my ass? Well, sure you do, and the list grows daily. But I mean right now: the damned televisions and DVD players imbedded in minivans and SUV's. Or, more specifically, the people who purchase them. God forbid little Joshua or Typhani has to ride all of four miles to daycare without having some mind-numbing dreck shoved in their face. They're only getting 12 hours of it a day now.
How low will the American parent stoop to pander to their precious little snotnoses? Here's a $1,200 example.
"Yeah, gimme the Warner Brothers package in that breeder box, mister."
Listen: when my kids complain of being bored in the car I give them a rubber band, to share, to entertain themselves. Then I tell them they're damned lucky it's a rubber band and not a mere loose thread off my shirt. If they persist in complaining I may take the cardboard off the windows and let them look at the outside world, but only for a little while.
Because the outside world is scary. At least, that's what the cretins who put home theater systems in their freaking cars must think. You know, a child can learn a hell of a lot more about the world by actually viewing it than by watching pixelated sponge creatures in their fucking underdrawers.
Oh, I suppose these things have value on long trips. You know, the 1% of the time spent in the vehicle other than commuting and errands. But I see these in operation in the morning beep 'n' creep, or on the way to the grocery store, or the wine and spirits merchant ("Let me buckle you in, sweetheart! Mommy's going to see the liquor man!"). And so there sit Caightlynne and Trevor, strapped into their carseats like impact experiments, blank-eyed and slack-jawed, tongues lolling listlessly, moistened by that strange paste of sputum and vomit only a child can produce (although I have nearly perfected it recently). Staring at that freaking tube, because otherwise Mommy might have to do something awful, like engage them in conversation. Shame, shame. The least a parent could do is put some John Waters on for the little wastlings.