Shirley/Manifesto - Part 2

Copyright Marylinn Kelly

As an intermission from manifesto jottings, Shirley reached for the mail she's brought along when she left the house.  The Auto Club envelope appeared to contain travel promotion and would, she hoped, show spectacular quadrants of the world she'd likely visit only in her dreams.  After the exposition photos, the opening page spoke of meals aboard the two boats - not ships - being glorified.  When she saw they had used the word "decadent" twice in the first two paragraphs to talk about sugar-laden food, she gathered up her pen and notebook and wrote:

"VIII.  Desserts are not decadent, just as they are neither degenerate nor depraved.  Nor is it reasonable to call a favorite television program or commonly popular book a guilty pleasure.  It is simply a source of pleasure.  Do not apologize for being alive, human and ordinary.  It is within ordinary that we find and recognize each other."

Her patience with and interest in the steamboat experience now vanished, she decided whatever else the mail contained would probably make her cranky, too.  It was, she admitted, a short trip from agreeable to glowering.  Not always, but the things people did with words, people who were probably being paid enough to know better, could give her the blues.  While she would never send an affronted note to the Auto Club or anyone airing one of her pet peeves, she wished heartily that a bit more care and imagination could go into, well, everything.  She was likely breaking her own directive to "let it go" by giving small matters so much attention but cripes, she thought, reverting to adolescent vocabulary which still seemed a good fit.  Cripes.