When I was a kid, if things came together perfectly, we would head down to Cincinnati to sit in the bleachers at Riverfront Stadium and watch the Reds play. Usually, we could only get tickets for Braves games for some reason, although I saw them host the Phillies right after Pete Rose transferred. Man, talk about a hostile reception.
In addition to the "ice cold beer," peanuts, and brats (and how I miss greasy ballpark brats!), vendors would walk up and down the aisles yelling, "Programs! Get yer programs! You can't tell the players without a scorecard!" Nowadays, I doubt a scorecard would do much good. For all you know, the pitcher may identify as a badminton player. Or a ping pong ball.
I don't know about you, but I have given up on trying to sort out genders, identities, and pronouns. I'm headed toward the back nine of life and don't have time for that foolishness. Nobody does, but my advancing age brings the issue into sharper focus. I had an appointment the other day and had to fill out a form. Of course, the form had a drop-down for my pronouns. I left it blank, but I had to look. Among the options were: Fae/Faer/Faers, Ae/Aer/Aers, and Hu/Hum/Hus. Hus? Hum? What pronoun is Hum? No, lefties, don't tell me to "Google it." In case you are wondering, my pronouns are Drop/Dead. Google that.
I had thought once the identity crowd had gotten to "porcupine," "tree," and "elf-on-a-shelf," it had plumbed the depths of inanity. But I should have known it would never grow tired of picking up a machete and mutilating the English language.
The newest gender identities are seasons. No, not seasonings, seasons. As in Winter, Spring, Summer, and Fall. I could have almost gotten on board if people started calling themselves garlic, oregano, or paprika. Almost.
This latest time-waste comes to us courtesy of Gen Z, naturally. The Daily Mail highlighted Dee Whitney, who is non-binary and took to TikTok to break it down for you.
Are you ready? Here we go:
@inkfizzexplains i just started using this one :D #seasons#seasonalgender#fallgender#autumngender#wintergender#springgender #xenogendershopping#xenogenders#xenogender#xenogendersarevalid#xenogenderhoarder#explaining#xenogendersafespace#neopronouns#xenopronouns#xenos#xenosarevalid#xenogenderhoard#xenogenderpride#xenogendersrawesome#xenogenderuser#viral#lgbtq#trans#transgender#nonbinary#foryourpage#foryoupage#foryou#foru#fypage#fyp#fy#fypシ#fypp ♬ I Prefer My Pizza 90% Grease - OMORI
That is quite the word casserole, so let me clarify.
Someone may feel more masculine or feminine, or whatever, during a specific season. You may feel like a man in the Fall and a girl in the Spring, Whitnell explained on YouTube:
This isn't saying that seasons determine your gender identity or expression, however, it can influence it. I feel more masculine in the summertime, I wear more masculine clothing, I wear shorts, I normally have my hair up more and I just feel more boy. Whereas in the wintertime, for some reason, girl mode comes out and I'm loving skirts and dresses and having my hair down. (sic)
Um, we used to call that having moods. Or, just dressing for the weather. Another TikToker noted:
In summer and spring, I'm more feminine and a little bit androgynous and then fall, I'm pretty androgynous, and then winter is like androgynous or masculine. (sic)
The upshot here is that along with having to remember all of the other add-ons and expansion packs that come with Gen Z and its gender issues, now we have to worry about mis-seasoning them? (Oh dear, we're back to Joe Biden's uncle, aren't we?)
No, no, and no. I'm not doing this. I'm not playing along. No person in their right mind is playing along. If you people want to get in touch with the seasons, you should go mow a yard, rake some leaves, or shovel some snow. Test out the pronoun "Employed-Self."
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Listen up, all you whatever-selves: do you know why you're broke and miserable? I know you are going to say "conservatives," but close your mouth-selves for one second and pay attention. I'm old. I know things you don't. Yes, the economy stinks. You can thank Joe Biden for that. But really, the reason you are so unhappy is that you spend all your time worried about pronouns, gender identity, and your sexuality. Who has time for this? No one! Not even you. One day, your purple, pink, or blue hair will have fallen out, that nose ring will be a third nostril, and you will have earlobes down to your knees, thanks to the gauges. At that point, you won't be edgy or trendy. You will be alone because you spent your entire life thinking only about yourself.
So I've given up. I have suddenly decided that now, my pronoun will be "Annoyed." You can refer to me as "Annoyed-Self." Because that is what I am at this point.
