All-American Yuppie Christmas

Mom walks the mall, buying every single mindless toy requested by her mindless son that thinks he knows all-- then she cruises over to Abercrombie & Fitch (her daughter's favorite) to buy the unique jeans and that truly unusual red and blue rugby polo that all the girls are wearing-- and she slaps down two onehundred dollar bills, grabs her bags, running into a Salvation Army man on her way out, never stopping to apologize-- she jumps into her Benz, a scowl on her face (how rude of charity to get in her way) "Why should I give up my money? I need it." (For her weekly pedicure, her live-in maid and chef, her daily trip to the salon, and one can never forget her personal trainer who grows more personal every night.) she speeds through traffic, cutting off everyone (people should really learn that she's much more important) to get to her neighborhood with the neighbors she's never met-- she arrives to the place with identical icicle lights strung (out) on the typical, mass-produced rooftops of fourhundred thousand dollar houses which will never become homes. Such is the life of the All-American yuppie.I know this is late for Christmas, but oh well. For those of you who may not know what a yuppie is, they are quite amusing. There are a bunch of them that live near me, and I'm sure you all know them as well. They're the people that move to the country to experience nature but can't live without air conditioning for even one whole day in the summer. They ride their Mercedes bikes and wear hundred dollar bike shorts because they think Donna Karan actually would know what's better for them to wear. They have pedigree cats and racehorses. But they don't know what life is all about. That is a yuppie. The world is full of them. Personally, I don't really like this piece much--the form doesn't seem right. I may create a new version with a new format in the future. Let me know what you think. Written December 28th, 2001 © on Dec 27 2001 03:37 PM PST   0 • 9