Not happy unless there’s something or someone they can complain about.
And I’m probably showing how I’m entering that older generation now.
What Do They Think?
My recent rant about people who can’t read brought a member of the older generation out of the woodwork to comment on the post. He/She apparently took offense at my request that people follow my instructions and not bother me for information about Wickenburg.
Apparently, this person thinks I should devote my life to maintaining my Web sites and serving the people who find and read them. I seriously doubt whether this person has used the Donation link to help support the site, which takes time and money to run. Instead he/she wants my services for free. And damn me if I don’t want to give it out!
I’ve seen this over and over at wickenburg-az.com. People can’t take the site for what it is: a many-authored blog related to the town and life in Wickenburg. They seem to think that it’s some kind of service that should do nothing but write glowing articles about the town and its surroundings, to paint a rosy picture of the retiree heaven they want it to be. A service run by someone who’ll drop everything — including work she does to make living — to get them the information they seek.
I don’t know where the hell they got that idea. I guess it’s because they can’t/won’t read.
This Ain’t the First Time
In my recent rant, I didn’t list the e-mails and nasty comments I’ve gotten from this group of senior whiners. Frankly, I didn’t think it was worth giving it attention. But since this recent whiner has joined the pack, I figured I’d take a moment to whine back.
Why is it that these people can never find something to be happy about? Why is it that they take offense so easily when something they know so little about is revealed to be a little less perfect than they thought? And why, oh why, is their attitude always “I don’t agree with you so I’m going to stop reading what you write and I’m going to tell you about it because I want to hurt your feelings.”
(Mommy! The mean man doesn’t like me! Waaaaa!)
A person with some guts or brains might attempt to start a reasonable debate on why I’m wrong or why I should look at things their way. A person who truly cared about the town might volunteer to join its content creators and write the articles they think belonged on the site to get their point of view out there.
But all that would take effort. It’s so much easier to say something they think is mean and walk away. (Heaven knows, their time is so limited now that they’re retired.)
Well, as my mother would say, “Don’t let the door hit you in the ass on the way out.”
Monument Valley is on the Navajo Reservation, which is the largest of all Native American Reservations in the country. Access to the rock formations we know as monuments is controlled through the entrance of the Navajo Tribal Park. There are reasonable fees for entering and driving your own vehicle into the park. But for an additional fee, you can go with a Navajo Guide who will take you places you’re not allowed to go on your own. If you have the time, I recommend this, as it’s likely to be your only opportunity to step inside a traditional Navajo hogan.
I normally fly to the park from Page along the southeastern side of Lake Powell. There’s a landing strip at
Of course, to learn whether the tour would be good, I had to take one. I’ve actually taken the tour three times. I took this photo on the most recent trip. It shows two of the most famous monuments: the Mittens. They got the name because they look like those woolly things you might have worn in the winter as a kid. They’re formally called East Mitten Butte and West Mitten Butte. They stand hundreds of feet off the desert floor, towers of red sandstone that are still eroding in the high winds and summer storms of northern Arizona.
Editing for the Sake of Editing