Yesterday I noticed that we were all out of Diet Dr. Pepper. So, begrudgingly, I took one of my wife's Diet Pepsis. Two sips in, I was ready to spit it out onto the kitchen floor in disgust and rage.
"How can that silly girl drink this?" I asked my dog. "Doesn't she know that Diet Dr. Pepper exists, therefore rending this swill unnecessary?" As is typical of my dog, because he's not very smart, he had no response. But as I stood there, I started thinking about the nature of opinions. More specifically, my opinions. My conclusions were depressing, and they ranged far beyond the realm of diet soda.
Jay Leno is about as funny, in my opinion, as a box of stale Nilla Wafers. Yet he's about to retake The Tonight Show while Conan O'Brien remains (although very rich) unemployed.
I have written two unpublished novels. A dozen or so of my friends from grad school--hopeless books nerds like me who have studied writing their whole lives--have written more unpublished novels and stories than I can keep track of. However, Lauren Conrad from The Hills has published two novels, both of which were bestsellers. Nicole Richie has also published a book. As have Heidi Montag and Spencer Pratt. Their books have been described as "very entertaining."
The sound of Sarah Palin's voice makes me long for the sweet, sweet relief of deafness. However, there's a big chunk of white people in the South and Midwest who regard her the way teenaged girls regarded The Beatles circa 1961. People camped out to attend her book-signings. I saw one women crying on the news. She was standing next to a man who wore a T-shirt with a picture of Obama on it. Obama had a Hitler mustache.
I think my gay friends--pleasant guys who pay their taxes and go to work like everyone else--should be able to get married or do whatever it is that I can do. A lot of people--the majority of the country, no less--have a real problem with that. Most politicians claim to have a problem with it, too. Even the ones who really don't.
For a long time I've spent a great deal of energy telling myself how right I am. But what if I'm not? What if all that energy has been spent being wrong? What if Diet Dr. Pepper really ISN'T better than Diet Pepsi?
That's right, homies. The Norman Nation gets political. Don't worry, I'll get back to blogs about baby poop and Natalie Portman next week.