I found it while out for my morning walk. It made me laugh, then it made me sad.
You see, I live in suburbia. Not just regular suburbia, but it’s an our-shit-don’t-stink, entitled, don’t-look-at-other-Target-shoppers-in-the-eye kind of suburbia. Maybe it comes from too many “professionals” and not enough people who get their hands dirty at work. I think there’s some insecurity buried deep inside it all.
When we moved into the neighborhood we had to train our neighbors to wave as they drove by. Honestly. It was mostly my wife. She got them started then recruited me to reinforce her training. I wanted to tell the neighbors our name was the “Waverly’s.” (Get it?) My wife wouldn’t let me. They now wave first when they drive by.
Our high schools need to be declared a “no-fly zone” by the FAA because of all the helicopter parenting. I’ve heard that our high school teachers routinely find students crying because of the stress of taking 3 or 4 advanced placement college classes. They feel a need to have a college major declared by 9th grade. Hell, I could barely remember my locker combination in 9th grade.
So, I’m out for my morning walk and come across some graffiti in a pedestrian tunnel under a major intersection. Big and bold.
Frick you
Really? Frick you? If you’re going to do graffiti, at least have the guts to swear properly. They also did this:
A game of Tic Tac Toe? One that nobody won?
In all fairness, they managed to spray paint a large penis on the tunnel floor and make a vague MILF reference.
Maybe they were just middle schoolers. I hope so.
People move to our flavor of suburbia because it’s supposed to be like living in Disneyland. Low crime. Great schools. Good property values. I fear that our kids are suffering because of it.
Speaking of graffiti – go listen to Simon and Garfunkel’s “A Poem On the Underground Wall.” I’m betting my local hooligan’s experience was different than that portrayed in the song.