On Another Note…

Guest Writer, Jim Lloyd

Andy Rooney finally retired . He was a grump. He was a professional grump and he made a good living being a grump. I’m a grump. And I’m very proud to be a grump. Everyone who knows me admits that they think I’m a grump.


Not all guys are grumpy. You have to be a certain age. I would say 50 or 55 years minimum. It takes that long to acquire a skull full of disasters and disappointments to get you in the right mood. And it takes a good memory. I still haven’t forgiven Joey Shonk for not standing by me in an epic playground fight in the fifth grade. Grumpiness is a male gene thing. I think the more hair you have on your chest or shoulders, the grumpier you can be. But it takes more than hair everywhere. It takes grump style. You must recognize your obligation to society. You must concentrate. A true grump is consistent. A true grump is predictable.

My dear wife (women can never be grumps, see below) has over the years taken to verbalizing my grump responses to stupid drivers (as an example) quicker than I can. Some numbskull will pull out right in front of me, and before I can draw a deep enough breath to really vocalize my grumpy outrage, she’s right there with a calm and non-loud “What a dope” or “Look at him, who does he think he is?” That just takes all of the wind out of my grumpy sails! Who does she think she is? She doesn’t even raise her voice.

Now here is the “see below” why women can never be grumps: They have a lot of excuses, PMS, men, etc. But they are genetically handicapped as far as real rage is concerned. Women don’t know the first thing about being a grump. Grumpiness is a man thing. And that makes me proud. Grump is not a learned thing. Grump is a non-thinking response. Women lack that festering rage just behind their eyebrows, which they pluck.

And there’s a whole other topic. Why in Heaven’s name would any thinking person deliberately and painfully remove what God has placed there for a purpose? Maybe that’s their path to grumpy. Stand there and look at yourself  far too long in the mirror (real men NEVER do that) and decide, for no other reason than that you’ve nothing better to do, you take out a tweezer (a direct descendent of tools used during the Spanish Inquisition) and pluck away. Here is where I lose my ability to understand female lack of grumpy. If you can do this on a regular basis, how can you not be a grump? Plucking is just one little thing that females do which amazes me why there are not more good female grumps.

I’ve helped produce 3 very top rate, successful females. We also had a son. From the earliest days, our son was a very good grump. He was born into grump. Grump is an instinct. Our beautiful, dressed in pink, cute-as-hell little girls never had a good grumpy day in their lives. Oh, they had “a bad day”, or ‘it’s, you know, not their best day”. Hell. They did not know from the cradle how to grump. I love them. I cherish them. They have given me grand kids. But they are not grumps.

Grump is an honorable trait which only hairy old men can truly understand. And when God finally calls me home (much to the relief of scores of folks I don’t even know), He will sit there (I hope on a non-grumpy day) and judge me. I say “He”, knowing full well that if  God were a She, there would be no Hell. So where do the truly grumpy go? Is there a special soft grump cloud? Or an especially hot grump red glowing ember to relax upon for eternity? I can only count on the fact that I have led a consistent life of grumpiness. You are a grump or you are not.

I am and have always been a grump. For that, I am proud.

Now about this pride thing…

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