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The Angry Ones

The Angry Ones

Maybe it’s just me. But maybe it’s not ...

I was crossing the street the other day and noticed a woman sitting in a parked car. Behind her was another car, with the driver impatiently waiting for her to surrender her parking spot. The driver of the waiting car started honking and yelling. However, the woman wasn’t even leaving, she was just getting out of her car. In a fit of rage, the other driver departed, shouting at the woman. That’s one.

I went to a city council meeting. I saw councilmembers spitefully argue with one another. Members of the public then stood before the podium insulted, degraded and berated the council. That’s two.

A police officer was giving someone a ticket and a few passersby started mocking and yelling at the officer. “Pig,” shouted one of them. That’s three.

On the news the other evening was an assault of negativity. Some college coach is in trouble for pressuring, degrading and demoralizing his athletes. A coach at the professional level is under a watchful eye for racist remarks. A player spit on another player. A bench clearing brawl delayed a baseball game and sent a player to the hospital with a broken bone. The animosity continues. That’s four, five, six, seven and eight.

Angry janitors recently clashed with opportunistic capitalists. Republicans insulted democrats. Democrats insulted republicans. That’s nine and ten.

Where does it stop? It probably doesn’t. What ever happened to treating people the way you want to be treated? I am starting to wonder, was there ever a time when that philosophy existed? Was there ever a time when dignity and self-respect reigned?

It takes a lot of energy to be angry and mad all of the time. Being a sourpuss takes work. I don’t want to sound cliche, but people really do need to take a little time for themselves. Do something, anything, that puts a smile on your face. Smell a flower. Smile and wave when someone makes eye contact. Listen to the ocean.

Something. Anything.

I’ll be the first to admit, there’s plenty I don’t know, but I do know this: Whether you are two days old or 94 years old, life is too short to not enjoy it. I always feel good when there’s a smile on may face and smiles on the faces around me.

I don’t want to be remembered as an angry and hostile person. I don’t want to be an angry or hostile person. I like smiles and laughter way too much to give them up — ever. Maybe it’s just me, but I hope not

by Brian Barsuglia

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