Remember the pet rock craze from 40 or 50 years ago? You know, they were, well, rocks ... inanimate ... mindless ... vapid rocks. You pretty much had to be a vegetable yourself to think that you were going to get any feedback, warmth or satisfaction …
Remember the pet rock craze from 40 or 50 years ago? You know, they were, well, rocks ... inanimate ... mindless ... vapid rocks. You pretty much had to be a vegetable yourself to think that you were going to get any feedback, warmth or satisfaction from carrying around a pet rock that looked like a turtle or frog or whatever in your pocket or purse. I get that pet rocks were a fad but I can’t help but wonder if anybody actually enjoyed owning a pet rock or, heaven forbid, bonded with one.
People actually gave those things as gifts. Here’s a little something to let you know I was thinking about you at Christmas time. I saw it and was reminded of you.
Just think about it. A pet rock never said anything meaningful; not one peep. A pet rock never moved with a sense of purpose; the pet rock owner supplied all the locomotion. A pet rock couldn’t roll over, fetch, sing, or catch a mouse; a pet rock made a decent paperweight; that’s it. Your expectations for a pet rock were nil and you got what you expected. Pretty soon you got tired of carrying the silly thing around and getting nothing in return and relegated it to the drawer where you kept the Brut Balls.
Yet, the spirit of the pet rock lives on. Smelling of Brut, they appear every time an opening comes up in political office. They say the same things that are said over again, which is not one peep of meaningful, heartfelt communication. I’m cute and cuddly and I want you to give me a ride and supply all the necessary verve and vitality. Me, I’m going to hold down some papers and bills while you wait for me to fulfil my promise to balance the budget, establish world peace, and whatever else I said I’d do.
One good thing about today’s Pet Rock Party: It’s pretty easy for one pet rock to succeed another. It isn’t as if there are any big shoes to fill these days. No, it’s pretty safe to say that those who could do us, the state, the country and world some good won’t be in public office either because they’re smarter than a rock or they can’t be elected. Meanwhile, the electorate is forever gearing up to buy into the next batch of political pet rocks the same way you can buy those “rocks” at novelty stores that purport to relieve stress and tension. The science regarding the latter is about as shaky as the prospects for us seeing a meaningful turnaround in the present political climate of America.
Bob Morgan is a retired, award-winning journalist and an author.