Welcome back, my friends, to the annual celebration of Festivus, and the time-honored tradition of telling the world how we really feel. Although a lot of you people have chosen to air your grievances on an almost hourly basis since January, I have once again saved a select few in honor of Frank Costanza and the ever-present disillusionment in which we share. So grab your aluminum poles, add your meatloaf to a bed of lettuce, and enjoy my top five grievances of 2025.
Judging technological neophytes
I’m not exactly sure when all humans were expected to master every app, device shortcut, digital payment, widget, and AI platform, but I do know that if you’re someone like me who missed that deadline, you are: (1) making your life harder and (2) An idiot.
I know, because every single person who did manage to hit the technological know-it-all due date that was shared in the sub-post of a lower Slack Reddit thread is happy to remind the rest of us how inefficient and dumb we are whenever possible. Lurking behind cubicle corners and hiding under hipster coffee shop counters, these people always seem to appear when someone asks about anything even remotely related to innovation so they can first guffaw at the question and then belittle us for failing to know about some advancement that only launched four months ago. Regardless of the setting or the technology, one thing is clear: They, like, cannot BELIEVE we haven’t heard about it until now.
NOTE: Not until writing this grievance had I ever used the term “guffaw,” which I now realize is the only word to describe the superior, forced laughter of anyone who’s ever introduced a Google extension to a colleague or explained why cash is no longer an acceptable form of payment to a customer.
Barring my own frustration toward technological expectations, I have an even bigger problem when similar assumptions are placed on retirees or anyone over the age of 60. In all sincerity, how can someone who is doing their best to enjoy their golden years while also navigating very complex later-in-life issues be expected to know about every accessory or tool they need to download to a smartphone that hasn’t even been on the market for two decades? What’s more, how can someone 20, 30, or even 40 years their junior think it’s OK to patronize them for not knowing more about something they’ve lived most of their lives without?
So then, to the savviest of the techies, please know the rest of us are more than comfortable crowning you the technological master of the tri-county area. However, since a lot of you still can’t seem to look us in the eye while acknowledging our stupidity, let’s go ahead and dial back the condescension a bit and accept our sincere gratitude after you patiently and kindly explain to us the new thing we don’t yet understand.
Gift shops
Whoever decided to implement a forced exit through a gift shop is both a genius and the bane of every adult’s existence. In reference to the grievance above, I bet he’s also insufferable in any discussion involving metrics.
Forget the cost of admission or the charm of the outing, anyone who accompanies a child or even a mildly excitable adult to a museum or zoo will spend no less than $135.98 when exiting through an attached gift shop.
Sadly, it’s only after our cards have been swiped and our consciousness has been regained do we realize the mistake we’ve made. With zero recollection of the time spent perusing the gift shop shelves, we hesitantly look inside the bag we were just handed and find the usual suspects: a magnet, Powerade, Sun Chips, and a geode we will dust for the next 8 to 12 years. Collectively, we shake our heads, raise our fists to the sky, and think, ‘those sons of bitches got me again.’
Make no mistake, the pull of a gift shop’s wares is stronger than whatever willpower any of us thought we had while in transit to the destination that morning. Even the most well-intentioned, shrewd patron is still susceptible to novelties like location-specific tote bags and “I’m just lion around” beach towels. What’s important to remember is that I am not immune to the siren-like song of the gift shop and neither are you. Like the $43 geode, this universal grievance is something a lot of us will hold dear for many years to come.
Pop-up ads
To echo the tone of Jerry Seinfeld whose show first introduced us to the holiday we celebrate today: What’s the deal with all these pop-up ads?
From news outlets to social platforms, retailers to non-profits, nearly every website I encounter these days seems to include an inordinate number of pop-up messages designed to either direct me to something better or force me to question whether I should set myself on fire.
Pop-ups asking for an email address to either receive a one-time discount code or a daily news briefing have become increasingly persistent this year, with many sites using language that’s borderline threatening when a visitor chooses to opt out. “Not interested in saving 15% right now? No problem! Visit us again after the hex we’ve placed on your family leaves you all in financial ruin. You’re welcome back any time!”
Still, the site that boasts the most pop-ups and makes me wonder whether I could make it in prison is Old Navy. Within moments of making any selection, I am inevitably served with a pop-up for another item customers also liked, an invitation to apply for an Old Navyist Rewards credit card, a frantic reminder about one or more of the items in my cart selling out fast, and a chatbot asking whether I have a question. Yes, in fact, I do have a question: What’s worse, the phrase “Old Navyist” for a credit card or the slogan “HoliYAY dance” for a promotional campaign?
I want to see the data behind pop-up advertisements driving consumer spending. I also want to see the data for electronic device sales following a targeted pop-up campaign to perimenopausal women during times of peak online shopping. My hunch is that the likelihood of these women needing to purchase new phones and computers after throwing their existing devices at the wall due to encountering an egregious number of pop-up ads while searching for matching holiday pajamas no one in their families is going to thank them for anyway is probably pretty high.
Nobody worrying about what I’m going to have for dinner
An overwhelming part of my existence is spent worrying about what my family is going to eat for dinner each night, yet no one ever seems concerned about what I’m going to eat or how any of these meals will actually appear on our plates.
When exactly was dinner added to my list of worries? Also, when was what I’m having for dinner removed from the worries of someone else? When can I cross dinner off my worry list entirely? More importantly, can I rejoin the dinner worry list I was once a part of and also add my husband and our teenager?
While there is no actual solution to this grievance, I will say that if you know someone is worried about what you’re having for dinner and you haven’t worried about what that person is having for dinner too, perhaps it’s time to start.
Apparent delight in the downfall of humanity
I don’t typically use this annual list to sound off on topics as heavy as this, but I would be remiss if I didn’t end this post with my biggest grievance of the year: A noticeable influx in glee related to either the current or anticipated collapse of others.
More often than not, this glee is rooted in antiquated and—let’s face it—racist beliefs surrounding issues like immigration reform, health care spending, the perceived misuse of benefits, and the prioritization of individual merit over group identity (just to name a few). And while the general attitude held by a lot of people toward these topics is unfortunate all on its own, what has me the most concerned in the year of our Lord 2025 is the outright exultation among so many when their time-honored “beliefs” result in the suffering of so many more.
To be clear, separating families, withholding access to medical care, denying food assistance, and rescinding opportunities to create a more equitable society are not issues worthy of a celebration. These are not topics in which anyone should post, comment, or like in the affirmative; “pray on” either individually or collectively; or get as excited about as winning even a nominal amount on a scratch-off. Regardless of where these views originated or why someone still considers them important, when actual human beings are being impacted, what’s really being celebrated is someone else’s failure to survive. It’s disgusting, shameful, and a reflection of the hateful rhetoric that a large swath of the American population has somehow grown to accept.
And look, stay true to what matters to you or whatever, but if you suddenly find yourself applauding the death, hardship, and sorrow of others, I think it’s time to question whether this is the person you want to be and whether any of these so-called beliefs are actually consistent with the faith a lot of you also seem to hold so dear. As a gentle reminder, Jesus wasn’t a fan of hatred, so if it’s his way you’re claiming to follow, perhaps it’s time to consider another path toward redemption. After all, it’s his birthday we’re celebrating in just two short days. Show some respect—and not just for Jesus, but for all mankind.
