|The struggle is real.|
I get it; donuts are really tasty. When faced with trays of doughnuts, I might be so inclined to lean in... give them a sniff... maybe lick the frosting just a little bit.
Not really. I am not that person. I endeavor only to lick doughnuts that belong to me. But I digress; back to the matter at hand.
Doughnutgate was pretty quickly followed by the apology.
Now, I'm a person who believes that character isn't revealed by doing all the things right, but rather by how you course correct when you inadvertantly do things wrong.
Because that's something human beings are really, really good at—doing the wrong thing. It's what we do best, it's our birthright! Yeah! Sorry, I got carried away. I licked a lot of doughnuts as research for this post.
|Montage of donuts courtesy of my girl April.|
What I'm really trying to say is THANK GOD I came of age before things like cell phones, viral videos, Gawker, Buzzfeed, all the things that share all the info, gleefully and willfully across the interwebs for the world to see and judge. Because, c'mon people! We all did stupid shit like this! We just weren't caught on tape. Unless COPS was filming in our town, and then we might go out and try to find the squad car with the camera crew. (It's okay; I'm singing the song, too. It's a damn catchy earworm.)
I'm so thankful nobody caught my big mistakes, because I made them. I will not bore you with the details, but trust me on this one.
|These doughnuts, courtesy of Sherrie who is not a blogger.|
Well, if we trust the hipsters as the harbingers of the future, we will be remarkably Luddite in nature, perhaps returning to the ways of yore, churning our own organic artisanal butter for which to make our hand-crafted doughnuts with, along to an obscure, whining vocalist accompanied by a harpsichordist on our wind-up record players.
I know what you're thinking—where are you going with this? Well, it's easy, if you're me: You take one over-baked pop star displaying some ridiculous behavior directed to some over-iced baked goods and the entire Internet is all over it, writing think pieces (you know how I feel about thinkpieces) and demanding apologies and levying harsh opinions against her. You think about how times were easier back when you were young ("... bad boy, bad boy! Whatchagonnadu?") and give your 22-year-old inner self an imaginary high five that it wasn't you. And you wonder what the future will be like, for your kids. And you remember that hipsters are on the forefront of all the things, so, boom!
|Delicious-looking doughnut photo|
provided by my girl, Brittney.
I want them to grow confidently, not worried about what happens when the world is privy to their stupid mistakes.
Remember, back again in the days of yore, when we feared that the future meant Big Brother would be watching us, controlling us? Turns out, real life was a lot more scary because Big Brother isn't the all-seeing them; it's us.
I'll admit, when I first saw the inciting video, I was appalled and had a few choice opinions about the behavior. But then I shrugged. Young people do stupid things that they shouldn't be vilified for.
|A lovely sampling, courtesy of Suzanne.|