Monthly Archives: December 2014

But seriously.

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Groupon needs to stop sending me emails. So does Vat19. And Etsy, and Zulily, and Romwe and eShakti, and STAAHHHHHHPPPP!

I have no self-control. I’m pathetic. OK, I keed. It’s not that bad (yet), but it sure is easy to click that “Buy” button more often than not. It’s all right; I can quit anytime I want.

Non sequitur…

I read an interesting article this morning on having a critical spirit. Good stuff, and it’s advice for all, because none are exempt from some of the characteristics that make up a negative outlook. And as the article states, the online environment has pretty much facilitated the spread of negativity. The piece is basically a primer on how to be nice.

It was an interesting companion to another article, posted on Facebook by a former student, now in her 20s. I *almost* posted a comment on the author’s site, but thought better of it, because, you know, my tone would have come across as a bit critical. :P Seriously though, this gal cornered the market on “Give me what I want for once, and don’t ask me questions or try to engage me in conversation about myself, and don’t even TRY to use your imagination and get a gift that is different or distinct, or something that you think I might really appreciate, because I won’t appreciate it if it’s not exactly what I want, so just shut up and give me what I want for godsake.”  Granted, that’s a generous paraphrase, but I calls ’em like I sees ’em. That’s how it came across in tone and intent. Spoiled bratism.

Here’s the old adage you won’t be surprised to read: It didn’t used to be that way. The other day, I saw this on my Twitter feed:

Of course it’s true, yes, and it was true back in 1975, when I was the age of the girl who retweeted this. Heck, it was true in 1965. But again — back in my day, and that “day” wasn’t that awfully long ago — I wouldn’t be caught dead saying something like Don’t you idiot adults get it? HERE is what teenagers want for Christmas! in the school newspaper, or in a public forum of any kind. Why? Because disrespect and arrogance disguised as “teenage honesty” didn’t fly. When my sons were in school, and we’d have a row of sorts during which they’d get a bit too close to insubordinate for my taste, I’d say something like, “You can tell me you’re mad at me or my decisions, but you better find another way of saying so.” Not that I was Supermom or anything, because I wasn’t, but I was — and still am — married to the belief that you can disagree with authority figures without slinging mud or being a tiresome, insolent d***he. That, to me, is how Miss “Literally, Darling” comes across in her article:  Help us get our acts together, but don’t make it seem like you’re giving us advice on what to do in order to get our acts together. Girl — get your act together.

I dunno…maybe it’s just me being an old-fashioned hag. Rat Fink, Rat Fink. What a donkey.

Band concert at the school today, yee haw! Looking forward to it, although I’d be fibbing if I said I wasn’t planning to check the Browns score every once’t in a while from my perch up in the light booth…

Happy Sumday!

Week of Insanity 1 – Done

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Week of Insanity 2 — prepare to launch. Gigs on Sunday, Monday, Tuesday and Thursday. Then it’s over for another Christmas. Huzzah!

Afterwards, I’m looking forward to baking with Mavis, spending some final fun nights with Kay before she moves, seeing my grandsons, celebrating with family on Christmas Eve, and doing the traditional Christmas Day getaway with the Thriller. I will love the quiet of coffee and reading in the morning, with nowhere to rush to and no schedule to keep. I will love making vroca cokolada and watching TV and reading in my jammies. Also, for the first time, our district has two full weeks off for Christmas break. Wow.

It’s an embarrassment of riches — yet I feel strangely unembarrassed. So let it be written.

Do you love, love, love my new Cheetahphone? It might make me actually want to talk on the phone more. Why a ridiculous purchase like this, you ask? 1) I hate holding a phone’s glass screen *on* my face; 2) it looked like a fun piece of funnery; 3) it was originally $30, marked down on Black Friday to $7 with free shipping…what wasn’t to love? And the best part: it works! You plug it into the headphone jack on the top of your phone, and it acts just like an old-school rotary/push-button receiver. The sound is perfect, and my arm didn’t get tired from holding it. I was also impressed with the weight of the receiver: very realistic with regard to having that old Western Electric feel. It even has a pick-up/hang-up button in the middle of the handset, so you can just squeeze the receiver to answer or end the call.

How fun! And I must say the cheetah pattern looks cute and sassy. The company also claims that the handset “reduces cell phone radiation by 99%.” As I don’t talk on the phone very often, that wasn’t a huge selling point, but it’s a nice feature.

The only drawback is that the cord is a bit on the short side, so I had to hold the Galaxy nearby the whole time. An audio cable extender should fix that right up.

Rat Fink, Rat Fink. You and your crazy toys…

And if that weren’t enough to satisfy your yearning for non sequiturs for the rest of your life: Remember apple Jell-O?, with its “imitation apple flavor” and “magnificent golden color?” I do. I’m trying to recall if Mother ever made it, or if I tasted it at someone else’s house. Ah, the 1960s…

Well, the presents are wrapped and under our little Whoville tree, and I’m ready to tackle what’s left of the pre-holiday mania. Then it’s on to the good stuff. I hope the Christmas crazy is winding down for you, too.

So call me on my Cheetahphone.

Kidding.

:P

The 5 Worst People You’ll Ever Meet

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See what I did there?

Come on. I’d never publish a post about the five worst people you’ll ever meet. I’m no meanyhead. But if I were a paid-by-the-page-view advertiser, I’d say anything to get you to come to my site, so I could possibly swipe your email address, your location, and especially your shopping habits and what advertisements you click on. That way, I could spam you to buy whatever I’m selling, and even sell your email address to other potential spammers.

Still, I tricked you. You clicked on the title because you were interested in what I had to say about who I think you should stay away from. If I were you, I’d feel a bit annoyed. I understand; I’ve been there. While I won’t do it, I’d be curious to see my stats if I shared only today’s title (with no accompanying text) on social media. I bet my hit count would be through the roof.

The title of this post is an example of something particularly insidious, making its rounds on the internet for several years now in a relentless, perpetual grab for your eyeballs (and, ultimately, your money — because if you think there is any other reason why these heartwarming/heartbreaking stories are published, you’re under-informed). It’s called clickbait, and it’s doing its part to eat away at our already-shaky trust relationship with online journalism. So what is clickbait? You likely already know, even if you don’t know you know. Clickbait is any link that manipulates, plays on the emotions, or is deliberately vague in order to arouse curiosity, with the purpose of duping you into clicking on it.

Ever see headlines like these? (Taken from a cursory cruise down my Facebook feed, ten minutes ago)

It’s Reba McEntire.

 

Employees played a synchronized version of “Jingle Bells” by waving boxes in front of their product scanners (so they made the beeping noise). One guy beat-boxed into the mic.

 

This brave man took photos of his wife’s final journey. However, the last three pictures, while sad, are not “devastating,” in my opinion. They show his wife’s bed, a view of a rainy highway, and her headstone. The truly heartbreaking photos are the ones before the last three.

 

It’s a physics phenomenon having to do with vortices created by the plate displacing water. I mean, science is cool and all, but it wasn’t “I couldn’t believe my eyes!” Good Lord.

 

You get the idea. And the titles get wackier and more groan-worthy by the day, so it becomes a case of crying wolf: you become so desensitized to the sensational headlines, “real” news titles don’t faze.

My personal favorite among the groaners: “She Collapses After Every Single Race. When I Learned The Truth, It Broke Me.” It broke you? Seriously? Cripes. (The story behind the headline: “She” is a track athlete with multiple sclerosis. Her legs give out after every race, and sometimes she loses feeling. While it is most certainly a testament to this young lady’s incredible bravery in the face of a debilitating disease, did it break you in half to find out the reason why she collapses? I was rather uplifted — even inspired — by her courage, actually. But I resented the dupe all the same.)

Marketing groups are a savvy bunch. They know the power of human inquisitiveness; in fact, it’s a major construct of advertising. Get them to want to know more. It’s classic, and it works, and they know it. So, as is the American way, they ride it into the ground in order to suck every last nickel out of it before it slithers off into the graveyard of used-up ad techniques that worked until the customer base got wise to it.

And shame on Huffington Post — they’re one of the worst offenders (and there are many perps). Just today, I saw this headline: Seven Brothers Give Bride the Wedding Gift to End All Wedding Gifts. Out of pure disgust at walking open-eyed into another trap, I clicked on it. It was one of the sloppiest “choreographed” dude dances I have ever seen, and it’s ten interminable minutes long. This was the “wedding gift to end all wedding gifts”? Honestly — don’t take my word for it; judge for yourself.

I dunno. Maybe all this trickery doesn’t bother you. As you can no doubt tell, it bugs the heck out of me. In fact, I reached a point where I actually considered functioning as a spoiler on Facebook, commenting under each clickbait link exactly what the mystery was. Turns out, some cool people beat me to the punch.

On Twitter: HuffPo Spoilers

On Facebook: Clickbait Spoilers

Now this doesn’t mean that honest stories can’t have interesting titles. They can and do. The difference is that in a legitimate human interest link, there is some information given. No mystery. Two examples:

1. Clickbait — “A nine-year-old girl sells lemonade  in her front yard to raise money for cancer research. What happens on her second day defies explanation.”
2. Honest — “A nine-year-old girl sells lemonade in her front yard to raise money for cancer research. Neighborhood bands together and donates $2,000.”

While the second headline might make you want to click over to read more, you at least have the “punchline” already. No tricks, no gimmicks.

All right. It’s done. Fortunately for you, all you’ve lost today is several minutes of your time, as this is a blog about nothing, :-) and I have nothing to sell.  The bottom line, though, is that if enough of us ignore clickbait, it’ll eventually go away.

Jump up on it

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Last year, I got really behind in wrapping gifts, and it was a back-breaking session of  ||:measure, cut and tape:|| a couple nights before the family arrived. I said, “Next year, I’m getting a jump on things; I will wrap presents early.”

And here I sit.

Not that I mind, mind. One of the reasons I do all my Christmas shopping on the Friday after Thanksgiving is so December won’t turn into a ridiculous exercise in insanity for the sake of buying things. I’m glad, after school is out, to have a few days to rest and enjoy life as it leads up to Christmas Eve, when we have our family gathering. That, and I need to use my downtime over Christmas break to get Dinner Theatre stuff ready.

I’ve also had a couple of disappointments in the gift department — something I’ve not had before. One fun clothing gift has gone back already (it wouldn’t have fit the recipient very well, even though the size was correct), and I bought myself some $70 boots for $20 at Payless.com, and they’re too wide in the leg for my taste. So, back they go. Bummer. No worries, though. I have plenty of time, and I am still convinced that shopping online is way better than schlepping it out in the freezing cold rain and snow. I mean, I can hit 10 stores online in one hour, with access to every available color (not to mention all brought to my door, free of charge). Try doing that while fighting traffic and parking and slow lines and annoying people and picked-over stuff. What’s not to like?

How do you do your shopping? Are you the last-minute, 11:59 on Christmas Eve type? Do you spread out your shopping over time, or do you like to get it done all at once? While I know the gift-giving isn’t the most important part of Christmas, it is definitely everywhere you look. You can’t sling a cat without hitting a Christmas sale or department store commercial on TV and radio.

But you know…I don’t mind it that much. Giving gifts may not be the most important part of Christmas, but it is one of the most enjoyable, and I think you’d be hard pressed to find someone who doesn’t get a huge kick out of seeing the faces of friends and family when they open a gift specially chosen for them. It’s all part of the love, and that’s really what Christmas was and is about, isn’t it? Whether you believe it’s love within the human spirit, or love in the form of a child sent by God to be the savior of the world — it’s still love. And I’m fine with that.

Is it Finkday yet? Look at me, just off a 6-day break and already complaining… ;-)

Of webcams and heartache

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I broke down and bought one of these today. As a longtime user of the soon-to-be-just-about-obsolete desktop PC (of all the computers/devices I use, it’s my all-time favorite), I don’t have an onboard camera. You know…to use with Skype. To talk with people far away.

One month from now, my best girlfriend of over 25 years will move away. And not just down the street, or to the next town or state — but a long way away. It bites, but I’m trying to put a good face on it. For one thing, it’s a fantastic move for Kay and Bob, because not only will they finally live in the same town as their son again, but they’ll also have tons of fun with tiny house living (can’t wait to see photos of it — and then actually see it in person).

Although I’m tied to a physical location by choice, for two important reasons (#1 — grandchildren; #2 — job), I find myself envious sometimes. The Thriller and I both long to wander free. Still, I admit I love being surrounded by my “things,” too. I enjoy the conveniences of my life, and I love having my family close by. That makes me very fortunate and happy, and I can’t imagine anyone faulting someone else for wanting the same thing. Kay’s son has been on the west coast for many years, and it’s time she was closer to him. It’s the right thing to do.

That doesn’t make this hurt any less, however.

One of my favorite photos of us, a couple Christmases ago.

One of my favorite photos of us, a couple Christmases ago.

The upside is that Kay and I have done the long-distance friendship dance more than once, as she has lived in Europe before, and we are pretty good at staying connected. I told her the other day, during a conversation about her living off the grid with no electricity and no cell service, that I would drag out the paper and pen and actually write weekly letters — you know, the kind you send in surface mail. *Gasp!* Amazing, yes?

I guess it stings a little bit more this time because before, they always came back to their house in the country, about 15 minutes from here. Two weeks ago, they sold the place, so…it’s on. She’s leaving for real and for good, which makes stuff more serious.

No worries, though. As much as she might try, she’ll never be rid of me. I have wheels, and if it becomes absolutely necessary, planes have wings. And in the meantime, there’ll be the pesky webcam and Skype, when she can get into town from the wilderness and use some wifi, or go where she has cell reception. It ain’t perfect, but I’ll take it. Oh, and the writing letters thing…that, too. ;-)

Till then, I plan to grab as much “K time” as I can get. T-minus thirty days…