And The Mitchie Goes To (Originally Published December 7, 2010)

Welcome to yet another holiday edition of Mitch Being Honest, we are now well into December and the Christmas season is in full swing. I’m loving every minute of it! Just today Mitch was out soaking up the holiday atmosphere, shopping for gifts, taking in the sights, sounds…forget it. I can’t fake the enthusiasm right now. I been fighting a sniffle all week and today I’m losing the battle. I just don’t have the gas in the tank. You know that limbo where you’re kind of sick, you cycle through bouts of feeling like a 7 lb bag of sweaty ass (not 6, not 8, just 7. That’s how the metaphor works, I don’t make the rules I just arbitrarily enforce them) and bouts of feeling normal but you can still function but you’re not really full blown “officially sick?” That’s where I’m at right now, I’m a sick impostor. I’m the sick equivalent of when Randy replaced Jermaine in the Jackson 5, sure it’s basically the same attributes as the original but you just can’t quite put your finger on why it’s not the same. That’s my obscure pop culture reference o’ the day! Do you know how long I’ve had that Jackson 5 line chambered just waiting to be fired out? 

I really wasn’t planning on doing a blogisode this week. I began last week with a three day migraine and then followed the rest of the week with the aforementioned sniffle and as a result really couldn’t come up with any interesting ideas to write about. Mrs. Mitch and I were enjoying a childless morning today doing some Christmas shopping at Wal-Mart when inspiration struck. What is it  about Wal-Mart I find so inspirational? The low prices? The miserable shoppers? That foreboding pervasive feeling of abandon all hope ye who enter here? The DVD bins full of $4.88 crappy movies starring significantly less talented siblings of more famous thespians like Ron Pacino, Wayne De Niro, and Roy Eastwood? 

The other night I came downstairs after putting Little Mitch to bed and Mrs. Mitch was watching one of those vapid meaningless awards shows that are on TV every week. While at Wal-Mart it hit me, I need my own awards show. Seeing as I really don’t have my own show (yet), we’ll have to make do with the blogisode format. 

Live from my kitchen table and for the handfuls of readers reading this from around the world welcome to the First Annual Mitch Awards for Excellence in Vapid Banality! We’ll call them the “Mitchies” for short. 

The first “Mitchie” goes to the person I heard at the mall say “Actually, its pronounced poin-SET-tea-YAH”. Really? You needed to correct that one? Really? If 95% of the general population pronounces it poin-se-TAH, I’m going to go with that pronunciation. General consensus trumps condescending anal retentive correction any day of the week. Here’s a little tip for those of you who have fallen into the correcting habit (from a reformed correcting junkie himself), you sound like a colossal douchebag when you correct people on minutiae, or is it pronounced dou-SHAY-bag? 

The next “Mitchie” award goes to the guy holding up the line at the cash register complaining about the commercialization of Christmas…then whipped out his gold Amex to pay for his purchase, answered a call on his Iphone then checked the time on his Rolex. 

Our next “Mitchie” award goes to the people who playfully complain that they “hate Christmas” and think that “Bah Humbug” is funny. First, stop saying “bah humbug” it’s just not funny and really a lame joke. I use to playfully complain that I hated Christmas. I used to complain about what gifts I didn’t get, how I hate the food, well I still don’t  really like the food but I stick to the salad and dinner buns, and just generally used to be a passive aggressive A-hole about the whole holiday affair. 

Then one year through a series of unfortunate events we had to have our first food bank Christmas. Let me tell you the humble reality of that year gave me a much needed 180 degree attitude reversal. It truly made me be more appreciative of the simple joys of the holiday season because nothing reminds you of being poor better than being poor at Christmas. So the next time you playfully complain about hating Christmas, or whine about “having so much shopping to do that it stresses you out” remember out there are some parents who are stressed out from not having enough to put three meals a day together, or some kid who’s learning what disappointment is when Santa doesn’t bring them any gifts at all. Buy a kid a gift for Santa’s Anonymous and drop some food off at the Food Bank, every little bit helps. Okay, enough of my preaching, back to our regularly scheduled comedic hijinks.

The next “Mitchie” award goes to the lady on my commuter bus who makes eye contact and stares just a little too long at people. There’s a fine line between people watching and being the weird lady on bus who makes everyone uncomfortable. Guess which side of the line you fall on Stare-y McGee? 

 The final “Mitchie” award goes to the “Intimate Line Stranger.” This is the person who stands close to you in line, as in really really close, like within less than 3 inches close. I never understand this. I have a rather large personal space bubble so I don’t understand why when there is a line up people feel the need to stand so close? Here’s a fun social experiment you can try, I do this all the time. This only works at really busy line ups, and works best at the grocery store. While you’re waiting in line you’ll notice that people start to inch up towards the front of the line thinking that it will make the line go faster. 

The thing is if you have 5 people ahead of you whether they are spaced 4 feet or 15 feet apart you still have 5 people ahead of you. So as the line slowly proceeds just as you get to the till when you have only a couple people ahead of you stop moving forward, just stop moving, and the let the space gap ahead of you towards the two people grow. You’ll notice the people behind you will continue to creep up and up in an effort to make you move. Then if the person behind you asks you to move up and say “No, I’m good.” 95% of the lemmings behind you don’t know what to do. Now if you really want throw down your best hand for this play you can turn around and say to the person right behind you who is now probably breathing on your neck “excuse me, do you mind backing up? You’re in my personal space and making me very uncomfortable.” The look of utter confusion and dismay is better than getting a lightsaber wielding  bartender monkey for Christmas. 

Let me know how this works out for you, remember you have to commit to this grocery line gag to make it work, no pulling chute halfway and bailing out.

No need to thank me, I’m an idea man, it’s what I do. 

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