YOU CAN’T FIX STUPID
Ron White is not my favorite comedian, but if you can listen to a little crude humor he will make you laugh. So I was checking out his act the other night on TV mainly because of the show’s title, “You Can’t Fix Stupid.” Just that phrase brings to mind enough personal stupidity that I have to smile. Ron pointed out that if you were hard of hearing you could get a hearing aid and if your teeth fell out you could get new ones and if your eyes fail you could have lasik surgery, but you can’t fix stupid.
Even when times are bad folks are always buying stuff. Now since we aren’t close personal friends I don’t know exactly what kind of stuff you buy. Chances are that some of it will come with a registration form.
At the local Wal-Mart I picked up a new vacuum cleaner. It cost about $50 and was likely manufactured in China, but everything I’ve bought lately except my Chevrolet seems to have been made there. My Chevrolet was manufactured in South Korea, a fact I didn’t realize until it was safely sitting in my garage. But back to the aforementioned vacuum cleaner, after getting home I managed to put it together and was all ready to vacuum away when I noted the Product Registration Form.
The card explained how important it is to complete the form and mail it. They weren’t kind enough to pay for the postage, but having no real life I decided to fill it out. Who knows, maybe the thing would break the first time I use it and at least I could complain with a clear conscience.
The first questions seemed appropriate enough. They wanted my name, address, e-mail and so forth. No sweat with any of that, but then it got really personal. They asked my date of birth. Excuse me all to heck; I bought a bloody vacuum cleaner. Why in heaven’s name do they want to know when I was born? Why is it their business?
The way too personal questions continued. Marital status? Telephone Number? Hey I don’t want a phone pal, just a vacuum cleaner. They asked if keeping the house was my most important job. I want to know if it is anybody’s most important job. My life may be boring, but when keeping house becomes my most important job just shoot me.
The nosey card writers not only wanted to know my age; but the ages and genders of anyone else living in the house. I’ll make them a deal. Send me naked photos of your housemates and I’ll tell you. Try and remember that I just bought a cheap vacuum cleaner, not membership in a swinger’s club.
Things were really just beginning to get interesting. They asked my profession (don’t have one), annual income (If I had a decent income would I be buying their really cheap vacuum cleaner?), my level of education (Do people with higher educations use their cheap vacuums differently than high school grads?), what credit cards I have (Oh yeah I’m dying to tell them that), do I own a home and how long have I lived there (keep repeating to yourself, “He bought a cheap vacuum cleaner.”).
And a few others for good measure include: do I own a pet, speak Spanish, donate to charitable causes, or own a wireless phone. Yeah, now I see how this all relates to buying a cheap vacuum cleaner.
The first question should be, “Are you stupid enough to fill out this form?”
Not me.
