Guest column: Giving up complaining

Talk about it

After our sultry weekend, it feels like summer has already arrived in full force. Yet Easter is just around the corner. Even though I’m looking forward to the chocolate bunnies and hard boiled eggs, I always feel a little sad bidding Lent farewell. I enjoy fish on Fridays, especially the $1.49 fish sandwich at Kwik Trip. I like fish so much that I celebrate Fishy Fridays year-round.

This leads me to a dilemma. Every year I need to give up something other than just meat for Lent, because eating fish is no sacrifice for me.

This year I gave up complaining. I was more or less successful. Complaining just comes naturally. There are so many things to complain about, like those slow drivers that merge onto the freeway at 40 miles per hour. Stuck behind them, I’m white-knuckled, gripping the wheel and eyeing the rear view mirror as a semi-truck bears down on my hatchback at 70 miles per hour.

My favorite topic of complaint, though, is airport walking. Whenever I’m cruising down the concourse with my wheelie bag, cruising to make a connecting flight, I inevitably get stuck behind a group of airport walkers. This is a small herd of people wandering back and forth, obscuring the whole aisle as they pull their bags along behind them. Airport walkers are usually not elderly, nor do they appear to be mobility impaired in any way. Those folks use the little golf cart to get where they’re going and usually fly past me even when I’m moving at top speed. No, airport walkers are generally young people, engrossed in checking their email on their Blackberries or gazing longingly at a poster for Chili’s on concourse 7 while they weave languidly at the pace of a sloth. All I want to do is pass them at top speed so I can motor to my gate, but their randomness makes passing impossible.

Of course, I am darn lucky the biggest things I have to complain about are slow mergers and airport walkers. There are people out there who have real stuff to complain about, like being trapped in an adjustable rate mortgage, or having a boss who leans over the cubicle wall every day and yells so loud spittle lands on the desk blotter. I have a fixed 30-year mortgage and a boss who brings us bagels and never raises his voice.

The only reason I can complain about slow movers on the freeway is because I own a cool little car, and the only time I’m stuck behind airport walkers is when I’m on vacation to a sunny destination. In retrospect, I chose to give up complaining for Lent because I have no valid reason to ever complain. In short, I’m blessed. I’m surrounded by family, friends, and of course, my wonderful neighbors here in Farmington. I still have a few days left until Easter, and I’m going to make the most of them. There is no time left for complaining. Instead, I’m going to savor these few days and enjoy one last fish sandwich at Kwik Trip.

Tags: opinion, rosemount, commentaries