The Disgruntled Alphabet 2023 – and a Bestofus List

For ten years, I wrote an annual Disgruntled Vegan Alphabet (DVA) as a way to air my grievances as a vegan in a non-vegan world, but, frankly, I got bored with it and I kind of ran out of grievances. This is generally a good thing. Think of the DVA as a kind of Festivus venting of grievances to the world around me, one for each letter of the alphabet because I’m extra like that. It was fun while the yearly tradition continued but I wasn’t sad to leave it behind. That said, it’s healthy and cathartic to vent a little. There is something to the art of the kvetch that helps us to process the world, get clear on our feelings, get our irritations out of the way and move on. This year, I’m resuming the DVA because I really want to go into 2024 unburdened of some of these gripes and move on to the happy, sunny new year fresh as a daisy. I’m leaving this year’s DVA on the doorstep of 2023 like the stinking paper bag of poop it is and setting the whole damn thing on fire. Feel free to stamp it out, Father Time!

As a little extra, this year I decided to include something that I think I may have conjured just on my own, called Bestofus. It’s like the mirror opposite of Festivus. If there’s a big airing of the grievances, don’t we need a Bestofus just to be a little balanced? So I’ve got my lists, the old and the new.

To start, I’d like to get a few things off my chest, because hell is other people.

The Disgruntled Alphabet​

A is for Address? Because there is always the lazy ass who, when someone posts the name of a restaurant or shop - often by tagging or a link - will comment with the single word “Address?” as if a very freaking simple search is more effort than typing “Address?” GAH! Do we look like your personal concierge? ​

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B is for Backing up into spaces in parking lots, blocking traffic from both directions because the driver wanted to face out and because they had to be all fancy. Listen, at one point, either pulling in or out, you’re backing up. Why not do it when you don’t have to impede everyone in the process? Or, I don’t know, drive to the hinterlands of the lot and do your manspread-y maneuvers without forcing everyone to stop and watch you?​

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C is for the “Courtesy” of someone who got to the stop sign at the same time as you going from a different direction and they wave you on with abject hostility as if they are the rulers of time and space and you’re just lucky that their benevolence has been bestowed upon you, peasant.​

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D is for Dang, you’re really going to leave your shopping cart in the handicapped spot and walk away like that, seemingly without a care in the world? I don’t believe in hell or even really karma but, wow, you’re something else. ​

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E is for the Election of 2024, which I am dreading with every fiber of my very fiber-filled being (remember, I’m vegan), not so much for the outcome – though there is plenty of anxiety there – but for the behavior online leading up to it and the wingnuts with their weapons. Hasn’t it been just a year since the last one???? Can we just take a break for a while? ​

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F is for Folks, if I accept your friend request, I don’t want to immediately get a message about your cleanse, your new diet, your coaching business, your wellness thing, your guru, your plan, your group, or your whatever that is DEFINITELY NOT a scam. Your ass will be just as immediately blocked. ​

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G is for the Grilling of dead animals that lines up perfectly on the calendar with open window season. ​

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H is for the Hi, Hello, or How are you weird little intrusive messages from people you’re FB friends with but have never had a real conversation with and it’s so awkward, like, just ask me to sign up for your pyramid scheme and get it over with so I can block you. (See: F.) ​

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I is for If you are someone who drives on the shoulder to pass traffic and cut in or intentionally misuse the lane that is leading to the off-ramp so you can leapfrog up a bunch of cars because your time is so much more valuable than anyone else’s and we peons obviously love sitting in traffic, I see you and you suck. I is also for I hope you get a ticket. ​

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J is for the Just Asking Questions trolls. No need to get in a tizzy about something that’s important to you and the world. After all, they’re just asking questions.  ​

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Kalling every Kaucasian woman with a point-of-view a “Karen” especially if you are a white dude. Oh, man. I can’t. In support of vaccinations during public health crises? You’re a Karen. Speak up for transparency in your local government? You’re a Karen. Expect people to pick up their dog’s poop? You’re a Karen. To too many, the K-word means, shut up, you dumb, pushy broad. It is once again an appropriation of a cultural signifier that was meaningful and useful turned into weaponization against women and draining it of any real meaning. This is something right-wingers excel at, clearly. Stick with your idiotic “Let’s Go, Brandon,” bros. ​

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Loud anything: Neighbors having loud parties, people listening to speaker phone conversations or music on public transit, people making loud noises when they eat and drink. No, no, no. Keep your sounds to yourself, please. ​

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M is for Mass group texts someone includes you on where you don’t know at least 90 percent of roughly 78 people and they’re all wishing happy whatevers or trying to figure out…something? ​

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N is for the New checkout lane opening and the people BEHIND you rushing in, as if chaos is the new normal, as if the last are rightfully the first, as if the ones waiting the longest shouldn’t be in line first in the newly opened lane. Bless the cashiers who actually tell us that the NEXT person in line is the first in the new one because apparently we’ve all gone feral. ​

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O is for Okay, so you know if you’re in a crowded parking lot and you are waiting with your signal on to pull into a spot with someone who is pulling out and that car temporarily blocks yours in pulling out and someone from the other direction tries to pull into the spot in which you’ve been waiting to park? I. Hate. That.

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P is for People who take their shopping carts and leave them in the middle of a grocery store aisle before they wander off to parts unknown. It is for People who stand across from each other in an aisle talking so you have to walk through their conversation. It is for People who push to get off a train even though there is a line of people in front of them attempting to also get off a train. It is for People, just generally. People. ​

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Q is for the Q-Anon, because if you were just cuckoo for Cocoa Puffs, that would be one thing, but you’re also dangerous.  ​

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R is for Resale shop Rudeness! You know how sometimes you’re working your way down a section, clearly moving in a certain direction, and someone cuts in front of you to look at the clothes you are moving toward before you get there? Um, no! You get in line after me. This is not anarchy! (See: N.) ​

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S is for Sidewalk hoarders who walk shoulder-to-shoulder in a group instead of breaking formation to let people pass and expect them to do a big half-loop around them. Poor city etiquette!

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T is for the Tendency of some people in parking lots to believe that it is a land of vehicular lawlessness: They can cut across the lot diagonally, they can drive backwards, they can plow over people walking to their cars because apparently, they’re not really driving, they are just “parking lotting” and no rules apply. I am more cautious in a parking lot than I am on some of Chicago’s most traffic-laden streets because you never know when someone will come barreling at you from any direction because, again, apparently parking lots are zones where the random wants of those driving 4,200 pounds of metal and glass reign supreme. ​

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U is for the Up-charge on vegan items, AKA the vegan tax. Okay, no one needs to school me on how USDA subsidization and buy-outs depress the actual costs of meat and dairy especially, but many up-charges go well beyond the higher prices to the business. Check out this very reasonable, well-researched article if you don’t believe me. If I liked coffee, I’d be even more disgruntled than I already am and no one wants to see that.

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V is for Vegans who police each other over plant-based ingredients. If you are on a diet where you eat air with the occasional cheat day of organic lawn clippings, that is fine, you do you, but I did not solicit your righteous feedback on what I am eating. You are reinforcing all the terrible stereotypes about vegans as finger-pointing scolds. Did I ask for your critique? No. Veganism isn’t a diet. Keep that shit to yourself, please.

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W is for When you luck out with the last shopping cart but it’s rickety, at least one of the wheels doesn’t work and it makes an awful squeaking sound and people look at you as if you’re responsible for that or something. ​

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X is for X, formerly Twitter – and how long are we needing to say that? – because Mr. Musk can take a one-way ride to the moon and just take a few passengers along with him (Trump, Alex Jones, Steve Bannon, Giuliani, etc.) and just disappear for a long, long time, or perhaps forever, okay? Pretty please? ​

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Y is for You know how when you’re standing in line at Marshall’s or HomeGoods and the person in front of you has to stop and sniff every candle in what I refer to as the gauntlet (the checkout area), pick up socks, consider them, take a picture, look at candy and hold up 30 behind behind them? ​

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Z is for Zuckerberg because, honestly, just hitch a ride with Musk. You’re more alike than you are different. Go have your cagematch on the moon or freeze yourself in a cryogenic chamber and we’ll safeguard that key to let you out, I swear. I’m sick of allllll the tech bros, born on third base bros, the “locker room talk” bros, the “smartest men in the room” bros, and basically all the sweaty, thirsty, annoying bros, okay?

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Oy, you all. I’m tired. I feel better, though. Don’t you? Should we move on to Bestofus?

Here goes. This will be quicker, not for any particular reason but, you all, I’ve got things to do.

A is for Aquafaba, not because I really need it all that often (but I will say that three tablespoons of it mixed with one tablespoon of ground flax will really step up your egg replacement game in baking) but because it was an example of us working together without a ton of ego in developing a reliable egg white replacement that was the answer to so many vegan pastry chef’s dreams. I love that it was this open-source concept without trademarks that everyone improved upon. ​

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B is for Bjork, Kate Bush, Rickie Lee Jones, Joni Mitchell and all the glorious women who have given and given so much beautiful music for us all to enjoy.

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C is for the Cute little sounds my dog or cats make, each one a little more adorable than the one before. SQUEEEEEE! ​

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D is for the Delight I feel walking outside in autumn, enjoying the trees, the skies, the birds. You’d never believe a disgruntled list would come out of me if you saw me in one of those moods. I am smiling ear-to-ear. ​

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E is for Effusive people who don’t care if they look silly when they are passionate about someone or something they love. ​

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F is for Friends, yes, I know this is obvious, but, seriously, where would I be without my friends? I don’t even want to think about it. You laugh with me, cry with me, celebrate with me, commiserate with me, accept me, challenge me and have made my life infinitely richer by being in it. It is my hope I do the same for you. ​

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G is for my Grandparents, Dora and Nate, the most loving, warm, kind, special people I have ever known. My grandfather was a quiet, gentle presence but his eyes filled with love when he looked at me; my grandmother was my steady rock through all the turbulence of my childhood and teen years. What I wouldn’t give to sit again with them at their kitchen table, playing cards, watching my grandmother’s “stories” (soap operas) with her, stirring cookie dough, just sitting and talking. Returning to my memories of them is a good vehicle for always feeling better. ​

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H is for Halloween. Okay, I love Halloween so much, I helped to create a fabulous community just so we can celebrate spookiness, autumn and the holiday together year-round called Humane Halloween and it’s the best little place on Facebook. Again, I love effusiveness!

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I is for Indian food. I “discovered” Indian food on Devon Street in Chicago as a teenage vegetarian and am so grateful I did. The spices, the scents, the textures are forever a kind of home to me; when I am feeling displaced and dysregulated, Indian food will always help me to re-center. The first time I was able to eat anything as a vegetarian was at an Indian restaurant and the cuisine, it doesn’t matter North or South Indian, will always be first place in my heart. I didn’t realize how hungry I was until I ate my first bite of Indian food. It may have been chana masala; it may have been aloo gobi. It almost certainly came with naan bread and samosas. All I know is I have never been the same.  ​

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J is for John and Justice, my husband and my son, two of the best people I have ever known. I am beyond fortunate to have these beautiful souls in my life.

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K is for the Kindness for its own sake: It’s saying hello to your neighbor; it’s patience and understanding when the person in front of you at the checkout lane has their card declined; it’s filling your birdfeeder; it’s letting someone who you know is struggling know that you are thinking of them. Not to sound like Mr. Rogers, but kindness is contagious and always the #bestofus. (I love Mr. Rogers, though.) ​

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L is for a Laugh, a really good, sustained laugh, the kind I usually only experience a few times a year but return to again and again for joy and are absolutely magical and soul-enriching. ​

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M is for Making someone else laugh. I don’t care if it’s my husband, a cashier, a friend or a stranger. I won’t tell you how much I replay those greatest moments in my mind because it feels so good.  ​

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N is for Nurses. When my husband was getting into remission from leukemia and recovering from a bone marrow transplant, nurses were our lifeline. I did not meet a single one in that time who wasn’t kind, caring and empathetic. Many knew just from a look at me that I needed a hug; sometimes they knew from a look at me that I needed space. When some doctors explained things with a bit of distance and a lot of medical jargon, nurses could be counted on to be human with us. (We knocked it out of the park with John’s doctor, too.) I do feel nurses deserve much more credit. They were more physically present in my life than family or friends when John was going through this very scary and difficult experience, and I cannot think of one who didn’t make me feel better knowing that his well-being was completely centered. ​

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O is for Orange, because it is such a perky and cheerful fruit and color, undeserving of any association with The One Who Shall Not Be Named (okay, the former president, whose skin is more like old urine than anything), who has no place on this list, unlike orange, which is bright and lively and full of juicy goodness. Zestofus?  ​

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P is for Pyrex, specifically vintage Pyrex, the beautiful, sweet patterns that bring me back to my grandma’s kitchen and you know how I feel about my grandparents. Vintage Pyrex is the best kind of nostalgia for me. ​

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Q is for Quaint downtowns and the sweet little indie shops that are protected by community members who choose local mom-and-pops over big boxes whenever they are able. ​

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R is for the Recipe developers who give freely, who spend time and money and effort to create something you can make in your kitchen, and as far as I’m concerned, I am happy to read about your remembrances of picking berries at your grandpa’s farm in Iowa for your vegan strawberry tart recipe because it’s kind of the least I can do. ​

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S is for Silliness; I love people with whom I can be silly and goofy and playful without any judgment. ​

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T is for Trump. JUST KIDDING. T is for Trust. Building our Little Free Plant-Powered Pantry has been an exercise in trust. I think acts of trust are going to be among the most important for those of us who are trying to rebuild the world.

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U is for Urban (or wherever!) gardeners who are growing native plants to benefit the pollinators, not trying to have the most perfectly manicured lawn. You are saving the planet! ​

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V is for Vegans! Yes, sometimes you drive me bananas (see V: Disgruntled list), but you have decided to put others’ best interests – yes, this includes future generations – ahead of your conveniences, traditions and preferences. It is my opinion that vegans are some of the most creative, thoughtful, resourceful and noble people around. (And, yes, I just pat myself on the back.) ​

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W is for Watching a genius who happens to be both generous and humble, like the musician Jon Batiste, in the documentary about his life with his equally brilliant wife, who faced a second battle with cancer just as Jon was preparing his first symphony. Watching his face as sounds and rhythms washed over him, basking in his childlike enthrallment and his lack of ego, as well as the gorgeous relationship he has with his wife, was a revelation I feel has made me a better person. If you have Netflix, I recommend American Symphony. I was worried it would hit too close to home with my husband’s experience with cancer (Batiste’s wife also had leukemia and bone marrow transplants) but, no, it made me feel heard, connected and, well, grateful. ​

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X is for X-rays and modern medical tools that are used to help us, diagnose injuries, ease suffering and give people a chance when in the past, they would have suffered and/or died. ​

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Y is for You. If you read this far, I like you. ​

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Z is for Zoloft. The Bestofus list may as well have been sponsored by Zoloft. Let’s just leave it at that. ;)

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See, I’m not a grump. In fact, I am positively GRUNTLED about all these things!

What would you have on your Festivus and your Bestofus lists? I highly recommend this exercise as we move through the world and into a new year.

See you on the other side!