why me

People ask this question when small stuff (meaning, not life threatening) hits them in the face – why me? And I think (but I don’t say it) – well, why not? I mean, join the club! You think you’re doing the right deed, more, you think you’re doing over and beyond the right deed and there you have it: slap, bang, straight from some punk who can’t wait to scorch you alive by virtue of your mere existence.

I had two (three, if you wish to count me, talking to myself) dear to me people ask this question today.

Little rugs get pulled from under the feet of innocents all the time. You’re left standing on the bare floor while others still have the warmth of a wooly carpet and you ask – why me?

Because, world! It is the way human beings behave toward each other. Recklessly, mindlessly, stupidly.

Since the two stories from today are not my stories to tell, and the third one – my own – could also put me in peril’s way (picture this: wee little person buys something from big hunky company; product is defective; wee little person wants product fixed; big hunky company agrees, up to a point and then stops; wee little person sends final bill for attempt to fix defective product, big hunky company says no and throws in a round of insults. Best not to write about it all on the Net, right? Especially if the product is something big, like a... no, no, shhhh) it's best to stay quiet on the details, right?

But take heart all you why me’s. You have to believe that it all comes around, full circle. The ones who punch, eventually will nurse a black eye.

In the meantime (and unrelatedly), thanks, Ann, for the link to the funniest jokes competition in Edinburgh. I feel like someone could tell me this one (among the top ten picks), to my face:

"To the people who've got iPhones: you just bought one, you didn't invent it!"