There Oughta Be a Law

There's a journalist in my town named Chris Satullo. An imposing fish in the little pond that is Shitadelphia, he's kind of a big deal around here. That's how he comes off on the radio when he speaks his piece on Mondays on WHYY 90.9-FM. He's pretty brash and opinionated and, for that to bother someone like me, you know he really must be over the top.

Anyway, he did a column recently called "There Oughta Be a Law" about his opinions about what ought to be outlawed and/or regulated around these here parts. It was two parts snark and one part sincerity, and the alternate ratio would have been more appreciated, I think.

In that spirit, however, there oughta be a law against

the phrase "sit back, relax, and enjoy our production of ______________" said by creepy-looking, unpaid assistant-stage-manager interns wearing black clothes and bulky headsets before theatre performances. Theatre companies that continue the "sit back, relax, and enjoy" announcement should be given one warning and, after further infractions, should be sentenced to 3-5 years of producing only Andrew Lloyd Webber musicals. Sit back, relax, and enjoy that shit, motherfuckers.

Okay, here's where the audience participation part comes in: what do you think there ought to be a law against where you live?

(And please, don't say, "Jews." We all know there ought to be laws against Jews.)

Gunning for the Park

This Memorial Day Weekend, Mrs. Apron and I sticking close to the homestead. According to AAA, many Americans are doing the same however, AAA seems to think that "sticking close to home" means travelling approximately 640 miles away from it.

That, to them, is "close." For me, who hadn't been on a plane until he was 13 years old, and the flight was from Philadelphia to Pittsburgh, long enough to inhale three peanuts and watch 1/17th of "Muriel's Wedding," 640 miles seems pretty fucking far away from home to me.

So, when I say that me & the Mrs. are sticking close to home, I mean that we're going to actually be home. In our house. There may be an adventuresome trip to the fabric store or a cafe lunch somewhere in there, but nothing much more than that.

Oh, and a hike.

Yes, we love going hiking, and, weather permitting, we intend to go on a little hike on Memorial Day Monday. I think it's a better way of honoring deceased war heroes than buying a new stove on sale at Home Depot, although we should probably be doing that too before we burn the balls off another batch of cookies.

When Mrs. Apron and I go on a hike, we generally have a short list of things we typically bring with us.

Snack bag

Trail mix

Water

Pedometer

Back pack

Ice pack

Glock....

Wait a minute-- what?

Yeah, so, apparently, a new bill was approved by the senate and the house that would permit those entering national parks to carry concealed weapons. So, the next time you're getting ready for that big six-mile trek through the blazed trails of (insert your local National Park's name here) ___________ ________ National Park, don't forget your trusty 9mm when you're packing your Propel Fitness Water and your zip-lock baggies of granola bits. Oh, and don't forget your hollow-point bullets, too.

What the fuck-- are we in a Far Side cartoon? Are the gazelles packing heat now? Do the squirrels in these parks now arm themselves with little Derringers and Saturday Night Specials that we feel the need to wear a sidearm when we take a romantic stroll with our lovies through the woods?

Oh, wait-- I know who we have to protect ourselves from: it's those fucking park rangers. Right? Those corrupt, abusive, minority-hating thugs in their pleated khaki pants and their ten gallon hats. We've got to make sure that Smokey's fuckin' boyz don't violate our civil rights. I mean, why they gotta be hasslin' us, yo? Hey, Roscoe P. Coltrane-- quit gettin' all up on my grill, bitch! Or I'll pop a cap, mothafucka!

And then there's all the aggressive wildlife that spends the sum total of all its time on earth plotting diabolical attacks on unsuspecting human hikers. I mean, I realize that bison are huge, brown, and scary (just like the terrorists!!!) but, do we really have to shoot them if they get too close to us?

Can't we just TASE them?

Happy Memorial Day, you crazy, gunslinging hiking bastards. If you see me & Mrs. Apron in the woods on Monday, please don't shoot us.