No More Mr. Nice Guy (Today)

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For Today, No More

Mr. Nice Guy

If you were expecting 600 words of nice this morning, toss the newspaper in the recycling bin and phone your sweet grandma. I’m in a Being-Quarantined-On-The-Grand-Princess kind of mood.

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Speaking of coronavirus – and is anyone talking about anything else? – if supermarkets and pharmacies can impose a two-package limit on a decongestant pills, why can’t stores do the same with toilet paper and hand sanitizer?

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It annoys me when something breaks while it’s still almost brand new. Of course, it annoys me even more when – and this seems the norm not the exception – it breaks about 18 minutes after the warranty has expired.

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Speaking of broken things, I find it annoying when the service repairman can only give a four-hour time window for when he will arrive at the house. It’s a safe bet, by the way, he’ll show up after the window closes …

. . . unless you aren’t home the first 18 minutes of the time window, in which case he’ll be early, miss you, and you’ll have to reschedule.

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            Like 4 out of 5 patients in my nonscientific survey, it annoys me that doctors’ offices give an appointment time accurate to 10-minute increments yet always seem to run about 47 minutes behind schedule.

With that said, 5 out of 5 patients love it when their doctor’s office squeezes them in without a prior appointment when a semi-urgent matter strikes – which, naturally, is the reason other patients have to wait an extra 47 minutes.

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            You want nice? Go watch a made-for-Netflix romcom. Me, I’m in the dark mood for a Stephen King novel. Heck, even King must be frightened by coronavirus.

While everything about coronavirus has me annoyed, and worse, the viewpoint of a friend made me smile. She said she’s not worried about contracting it herself, but would truly hate to unknowingly have it and then spread it to a high-risk elderly person or cancer patient or someone else with a diminished immune system.

Needless to say, she’s not one of knuckleheads hoarding toilet paper like a group of teenagers planning to TP a friend’s house on a Friday night.

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            I’m annoyed that no one TPs our house and trees anymore – at least during this coronavirus outbreak.

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            Lines to cast ballots that stretch longer than for rides at Disneyland annoy me to the boiling point. There is no excuse good enough; America should be better.

With that said, seeing fellow citizens stubbornly – no, supremely patriotically – enduring three-hour marathon lines to make their voices heard buoys my spirits and makes them heroes in my eyes.

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            I get annoyed by other drivers. If I were to list these grievances it would annoy you. On the other hand, if you don’t use your turn signal; make the cars behind you miss a green light because you’re reading text messages instead of paying attention; or speed up to prevent someone from changing lanes on the freeway, annoying you in return seems fair.

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I’m annoyed twice a year by our changes to, and from, Daylight Saving Time. Personally, I wish we could keep DST year-round. But, honestly, if the majority of Californians were to vote to stay on Standard Time, I’d be fine with it.

Let’s just pick one or the other and stick with it.

Better, yet, let’s split the difference and change our Cali clocks only 30 minutes and always be half-an-hour different. I mean, the rest of America seems to hate California anyway so let’s really give them something to complain about!

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Woody Woodburn writes a weekly column for The Ventura County Star and can be contacted at WoodyWriter@gmail.com. Follow him on Twitter and Instagram at @woodywoodburn. His books are available at www.WoodyWoodburn.com.

Check out my memoir WOODEN & ME: Life Lessons from My Two-Decade Friendship with the Legendary Coach and Humanitarian to Help “Make Each Day Your Masterpiece” and my essay collection “Strawberries in Wintertime: Essays on Life, Love, and Laughter” …