For seven years I worked at a large airport in security.
I wore a badge. I followed government regulations to the finest detail. Many of those details amounted to dialog — What we were required to say to the passengers. Whenever a bag or a person required further examination, we were required to inform the passenger that they were entitled to have that additional screening performed in a closed-door private room. We referred to it as “Private Screening”. Given the inherent stress level in the airport environment, with very little imagination or effort, I came up with the suggestion – to my co-workers only – that we ask them if they would like Primal Screaming – in a closed-door room, of course. Seemed so appropriate.
To better appreciate primal screaming please google the following — Sam Kinison’s first David Letterman appearance on YouTube.
Today, as I cynically and fatalistically observe daily life, Primal Screaming becomes an increasingly appropriate response.
I swim six days a week at a very nice health club. Maybe it’s just me, but I began swimming for exercise, to lose body fat — to, someday, wear clothing with no X on the size tag. Exercise assumes effort. Right? Not at my club. Up to half of the “swimmers” in the pool when I’m there are walking. It can be a challenge to get a scheduled swim time. Demand is high. The walkers occupy a significant number of daily time slots. I try not to look at them, but I have to come up for air. It’s difficult to scream while swimming so I wait until I’m in my car on the way home.
I usually accompany my wife while grocery shopping primarily in the role as driver, stock handler/porter. The downside of this chore — there other people present. An alarming number of them are overweight and, apparently, sedentary. These same people, in another manner of speaking, are fat and lazy. I try not to be judgmental, but they can’t all have an inherited predisposition to obesity. I control the urge to scream until I get all of the groceries loaded into the car. It draws a few looks.
A good share of the urge to scream, I must confess, is self-induced mostly by voluntarily watching television “news”. Most of it isn’t really new. Hate, violence, corruption, and stupidity have been around for a long time. Can’t help myself — it’s still entertaining. What causes my need to scream at the TV, which I can do immediately from the comfort of my recliner, is the format of the shows and the prescription drug commercials. Pinpoint planning and adroit handling of the remote control’s “record”, “pause” and “fast forward” functions have eliminated the drug problem, but there’s no escaping the repetitive/inane dialog of the “anchorman” with his excessively dramatic/apocalyptic tone of voice. I blame my wife for having to endure this experience 5 days a week, but I will admit all I need to do is leave the room.
Instead, silently, I scream!!!
# Yes! This is a rant, which, just like essential bodily functions, sometimes, must be done.
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