The Poo Crew

It has come to this in American suburbia: for a fee, one may hire a person laden with bucket and shovel, to remove canine excrement from a usually pristine yard. Think I'm making this up? As this is written, a sign advertising this necessary service sticks to the community mailbox.

Cleaning lady. Yard man. Pool boy. Mobile pet grooming. Car Doctor. Rug Doctor. Personal valet. And now, the piece de reisistance: Personal Pooper Scooper.

When the hurricane decided to get friendly with the Houston area, I wondered what us helpless suburbanites would do? No lawnmowers, no yard cleaning devices, no back-up car stuff, no buzz saw, no nothing to clean up anything--never mind the withered muscles that couldn't hold said equipment even if we possessed them.

Pathetic.

What would our Depression-era grandparents think of this? Maybe nothing. The people I know are living in apartments with cleaning ladies, yard men, pool boys, pet grooming, hair grooming, doctors of all kinds, and personal pooper scoopers to boot.

Perhaps our generation is just accelerating the process--play on computers for pay and play card games and watch TV for fun and hire otherpeople for the rest.

Could this explain our generation's reliance on mood-elevating medications? Diagnosis: Isolation passivism (as opposed to pacifism) acceleration with resulting depression.

Treatment: Gittchurassmovin'