Category Archives: Technology

Modern Conveniences

Modern marketing really scares me.  And I’m afraid it’s only going to get worse.

A few years ago John and I needed to replace broken toilet that had a built-in shelf above the tank top.  (Not the kind of tank top you wear, but the kind with all the parts of a toilet that break.)

We needed a special size and type.

Toilet with shelf 2

Naturally, I looked online to find the best price.  Then off-to Home Depot John and I went expecting to flush away a wad of money.

As we were trying to choose between two models, the salesman tried to help us make the decision:

“You can flush an entire bucket of golf balls down this American Standard toilet and it won’t clog,” he said.

John tilted his head, dog like, and looked at the salesman trying to figure out if he was joking.  He wasn’t.

I looked at John and then at the salesman.  Somehow I maintained an interested customer demeanor.  “Why would we want to do that?” I asked.  “We don’t golf.”

“I’m just sayin’ that you could,” said the salesman.  “I mean, if you did golf.”

“We probably wouldn’t be golfing in the bathroom,” John said, thoughtfully.  “I mean, if we did golf, we wouldn’t golf there.  We’d probably do it outside.

“And if we take up golf, I think I’d rather keep the golf balls in the garage,” I added.

“Plus we have a septic system.  I don’t know if it is designed for golf balls.”

“It might be hard to explain to the guys when they pump it out.”

We had to leave or we would have wet our pants in the toilet aisle of Home Depot.  In spite of the fact that it would be expensive, we opted to replace the innards of our own non-golfing toilet instead of spending – I kid you not – more than $1,000 on a toilet that would fit the spot and accept golf balls.

Since then, though, I have been getting ads for toilets.  But not just any old toilet.  Strangely shaped toilets.  Apparently, to the marketers of America, I not only like to flush strange hard things down my toilets, but I like my toilets to look like anything but.  Or butt.

Toilet 2Toilet 1Toilet 3

So imagine my dismay when I read this article that explains where modern advertising is heading.

They’re going to mine our DNA

to figure out how to market stuff to us.

The article gives the example of someone who is lactose intolerant getting special coupons for lactose-free stuff.

Oh joy.

I wonder if my DNA will tell folks that I’m not interested in what they’re selling.

Which gene says "NO SOLICITING"?

Which gene says
“NO SOLICITING”?

 

All the pictures are from Google Images.  I can’t wait to see what they try to sell me next!

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Filed under Conspicuous consumption, Gizmos, Health and Medicine, Humor, Technology

Marriage Strains?

There’s nothing like the sound of young love.

Well, except when I try to eavesdrop on my son and his girlfriend.  Then the sound of young love – “dub step” — is, well, not “moon/June/spoon”- inducing.

Back when John and I fell in love, well, things were different.  Music was wonderful, made to share.  And so I did.

About three months after John and I started dating, I made him a tape.  (For the youngin’s amongst us, it’s like a portable playlist that can be played on any appropriate device available in the prehistoric period in which your parents were, ummm, young.)  Yes, I made my love a cassette tape of my very favorite songs from that and every era.  It contained, among other songs, the following:

Juice Newton, The Sweetest Thing

Joni Mitchell, A Case of You

Bonnie Raitt:  Home

Linda Ronstadt:  Blue Bayou

It was too late when I learned that not only did John not love the songs I loved, he hated them.  Every single one of them.  Over the years, he has solidified his position.  For example, John has threatened to divorce me should I sing Blue Bayou within range of his supersonic ears, an approximate 5 square mile range.

Let me tell you this:  It is not an ideal situation for a critically acclaimed former singer to be banned from singing her favorite songs.  Especially when the ban includes those rare times when I am actually doing housework.  It has been a rather sticky issue for 26 years now.

I try to be accommodating because I am wonderful.  And because I have a huge repertoire of first verses of songs that will get stuck in John’s head for when he really pisses me off.  John has been accommodating by vacating the house immediately when I begin singing/playing/thinking about any of these songs.  Generally he is in search of a divorce lawyer.

But you know what?  Payback is hell.

You see, in the past, I’ve often told John that he needs to outlive me, because I don’t want to have to deal with all our financial issues.  Seriously —  I haven’t balanced a checkbook since we got married, and I don’t intend to start.

But now, after reading an article in today’s Reuters.com, I’m reconsidering my position on who gets to “go” first.  You see, I read that there is:

No rest for the dead with surround-sound coffin

Because now I can get John a specialty coffin complete with seriously impressive stereo speakers, hooked up to the latest iPod/music technology.  And I will get to choose the playlist.

I wonder if I can find that cassette.

Coffin speakers

I promise I will only need one.

Payback is, literally, hell.

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Filed under Family, Health and Medicine, Humor, Mental Health, Music, Technology

Reminders

We all need our little reminders, don’t we?

Don’t forget — Google Image

Me, I have my iPhone and office calendar set for 12:30 on the dot.  It says:

TAKE DRUGS

Otherwise I forget to take my pills.  It isn’t that by 12:30 life is no longer worth living.  Generally.

I am so forgetful that I make lists of what to buy at the store and then promptly forget to take the list.  I’ve developed a habit of keeping track of the 5 things I most need to get on my fingers.  That saves me a trip or two, but I do end up standing in the grocery aisle counting on my fingers.  If you don’t hear from me for a while, you’ll know that I have been committed or sent back to kindergarten.
Famous people even need reminders!  Remember when Sarah Palin got caught with the answers on her hand?

I’m sure she never did it on a test. Positive.

Well, just this morning I learned that some folks put their reminders in, well, other places.  OK, they put them in their underwear.  I don’t know about you, but I would really feel, well, embarrassed to have to check my underwear for my reminder. It is considered especially rude in Produce.  But apparently some folks need:

“[A] constant reminder that desires, appetites, and passions are to be kept within the bounds the Lord has set.”

Mormon underwear

Now I wouldn’t want to be the first to bring this up, and I’m really glad to report that the topic has come up before.  Remember, Bill Clinton was famously asked:  “Boxers or Briefs.”

So I think it is a fair question to ask of Mitt (and Ann) Romney.

Reminder Underwear?

I am never going to be able to look at Mitt without giggling again.

*     *     *

For more on Mormon Underwear “for the Endowed” (no, I did not make this up), check out Wikipedia.  Because I didn’t believe it either.

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Filed under Campaigning, Elections, Fashion, Global Warming, History, Humor, Politics, Technology

Forward, Crush!

One idiom that I’ve always found, well, odd, is this:  “That’s the greatest thing since sliced bread!”

Huh?

To me, going back to unsliced bread after years of Wonder Bread was a revelation.  It has taste!  It doesn’t dissolve in water!  It is something on which I could actually subsist.  Well, with a little water thrown in.

Sliced bread?  Mostly I think of that white spongy crap, although nowadays the mega-bakeries are trying to actually make bread that tastes good.  But there is a ways to go.

Me, I don’t bake bread; my husband did back in the day when we had time and smaller waistlines.  Me, I bake other stuff.  My carrot cake recipe is to die for (with so much butter that is literally true) but I don’t make it very often because, well, when we celebrate birthdays we would prefer not to expire before the next.

But I do like to cook, and mostly it is from scratch when I have the time and energy.  And while those are often in short supply those days, well, I do enjoy whipping up a meal without opening a box, without opening a can, and without pulling something pre-made out of the freezer.

Someday when I retire, I expect to do more cooking, more experimenting with world cuisines, the way I used to when I was home with my son when he was a child.  We had a blast, made messes and cleaned them up.  Discovered delicious and not so delicious dishes.

But sometimes a girl must draw the line.  And I found the exact location for that line today in the Williams-Sonoma catalog.  Because today Williams-Sonoma has gone too far.  Or it wants me to go too far.  Or maybe they just think that I have unlimited counter-space.

Today, they not only want me to make absolutely everything from scratch, but they want me to grind my own grain with which to make it.  And there are different types of grain grinders to choose from!

There’s your conventional hand-crank grain grinder for those looking for a workout. (Williams-Sonoma Catolog)

Or for the ones who want full convenience while grinding their own grain, there is this one:

The fully-electrified version so that you don’t have to do anything yourself, which, of course, kind of defeats the purpose if you ask me.

Why not choose them all!

But you know, still I wonder.

My ancestors were farmers, and even they didn’t grind their own grain.  They took the grain they grew to a mill where it was ground for them by the miller.  That was considered progress from the days where my ancestors’ ancestors had to pulverize the grain on rocks, scrape it up and figure out how to get it into the crock pot.

I’m just worried that the next step in being the perfect chef will force me back in time even further.

I fear I will have to revert into a hunter-gatherer.  Otherwise I will not be able to keep up with the neighbors.  Sigh.

Good thing there is a magazine that’ll help me get there.

Yup, it’s back to the land. I just need my glossy mag and my loaded mag.

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Filed under Conspicuous consumption, Family, Fashion, Gizmos, Gun control, History, Technology

Overheard at the Park

You all know that I love being outside.  I often go to a park not too far away that lies along the banks of the Potomac River.  It’s a natural area, with lovely paths that go up and over hills and others that follow the river.  Still others cut through open fields.  It’s lush and green, or open and bare, depending on the season and where you are.

Now that my dog is elderly and, well, in failing health, I tend to take my long walks by myself.  It gives me time to sort out my mind, think up blog posts, get some exercise.

It also lets me eavesdrop.  Here, you can too!

*     *     *

At the entrance to a short path that heads upriver for about half a mile, stood a woman looking at her iPhone with irritation.  She was surrounded on either side by two men, one of them presumably her husband.  The other looked like he might have been her brother.

“This damn UPS app,” she complained “doesn’t say how long the path is OR where it goes!”

But you’ll get a package for your troubles!

*     *     *

Two men were walking towards me; they had obviously just seen a snake, and since there are loads of them around here, I like to know where they’ve been spotted.

“Yeah,” said the first to his friend, “there are tons of snakes around here.”

My ears perked up.

“You’re right.  And it’s you have to be really careful not to step on one,” said the friend.

“Yeah, because when you do, they act like you’ve done it on purpose.  Like they don’t even get that you didn’t mean it.”

Ummmm, Guys? It’s a SNAKE, not Disney.

*     *     *

And just now, on the Sunday before Memorial Day, I heard this:

One tall middle aged guy was wearing a short sleeve flag-motif shirt. 

He was clearly waiting for someone.  Finally his friend showed up.

“Did you have trouble parking?” said Flag shirt guy.

“Yeah, the park sure is crowded today,” responded his friend.  “I shouldn’t have been surprised.  After all, it’s a three day weekend.”

“Yeah, Memorial Day.  But, still, why are there so many people here at the park?  There isn’t a Memorial here.”

Oy.

*     *     *

Happy Memorial Day, everybody.  Hope that the dopes you run into are at least entertaining!

 

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Filed under Awards, Humor, Stupidity, Technology