Every now and then something positive occurs that renews my faith in the basic intelligence of mankind.
Yesterday, I was struck by two such rare occurrences.
The first came while boarding NJ Transit's infamous 6:01pm to Long Branch. I say infamous because this particular train can rival LaGuardia for the number of indefinite delays.
But, no sooner do I board the dreaded Scoliosis Express than I hear the conductor announce the first and last cars had both been designated as 'silent'. He went on to say the use of cellphones and loud talking would be strictly prohibited.
Wow! There'd be no more Jersey Shore housewives screaming into their phones, 'But, Paulie, I told yous this morning to pick somethin' up for the kids!' No more groups of rowdy, Foster Beer-quaffing businessmen bragging about the world-class talents of their soccer-playing offspring. Not even a gaggle of old world garment district buyers lamenting the latest price cuts. Nothing. Not a peep. Just silence. Sweet, beautiful silence. Be still my heart. And, thank you, NJ Transit (did I actually just write those words?).
The second revelation came while scanning the pages of Ad Age on the now quiet-as-a-church mouse 6:01 (and, what's with church mice keeping quiet? Are they the only mice who do so? Are they in fact mute? I doubt it. In fact, I can't recall a single instance of bumping into a loudmouthed mouse. Church mice need to hire a PR firm).
Anyway, an Ad Age editorial informed me someone is finally doing something about impossible-to-open, atom bomb proof, skin-tearing product packaging.
Product packaging is one of the other true banes of my existence. I've spilled enough blood ripping open packages of Gillette Mach 3, Purina Cat Chow and Nature's Path Flax-Plus Granola to supply Haiti's needs for a fortnight (actually, I'm not sure of Haiti's current need for blood, so the actual time frame may be more or less). But, man, have I ever bled as a direct result of some foolish package designer's intent to make these products more impregnable than Fort Knox.
But, wait! There's actually someone listening. Walmart (ugh) is challenging vendors to reduce the amount of packaging to cut carbon footprints. And, Amazon is launching 'frustration-free packaging.' Talk about an oxymoron.
Now, if only someone could create frustration-free commuting, I'd literally be home free. And, Paulie, yous really did drop the ball on getting dinner for the kids."
A quiet ride home and injury-free package opening experience may not seem like much to you but, in these days of 24×7 doom-and-gloom news, they're bright, shining lights for this battered and bruised consumer.
Actually, it’s Hell’s Kitchen in Manhattan but Brooklyn as well. You got me on the “Jersey Shore” usage – I’ve never watched it.
But, your reference predates the advent of the Jersey Shore colloquial use of “yous.” I believe your vintage citation is Brooklyn specific.
I think the colloquially correct spelling is “youse” as in “youse guys ain’t planning to bump me off, is youse?” (taken from the movie The Story of Owney Madden, Monogram Pictures, 1954)
Thanks for the heads-up, Ghost. But, how does one put a price on pure bliss? $11k seems like a steal.
Be careful, though, as the customer comments section could have you so jazzed that you’ll risk the reported $11k fine for operating this device in the US
If there is such an animal I’d love to own one.
Aren’t there these pricey, hand-held scanners that are roughly the size of a walkie-talkie that one can use like a remote control and effectively disconnect all nearby cell phone communications?
I stand corrected, Book. Fuggadeabouit.
Pardon me, but if you use the word “yous,” you must change “the” kids to “da” kids. Get it right next time.