The lemming. That cute, furry little critter that has taken a bad rap and been labeled as a group of suicide rodents. It is true, they have been known to jump off of cliffs or leap into raging rivers, but it isn't because they wish themselves harm. They do this because the guy in front of them did, kind of like a herd mentality. Usually, there are so many, they have no idea what fate lies ahead of them, they just know there are too many to stay in one place and it's time to find a new home and new food source.
This is one subject I never tire of. I sometimes wish I could get a megaphone and shout it from the roof tops. But, alas, it would fall on deaf ears because they are plugged with headphones and completely unaware of what is taking place and unfortunately, they do not seem to care.
The new way to market to the masses is to find out what the masses like. When looking at marketing costs, most companies want to cut their losses and increase profits. That is just good business sense. Gone may be the days of board meetings trying to come up with the most clever TV commercial because the consumer....us....have made it easy for them.
We have cell phones in our faces most of our waking moments. We put devices in our homes that answer questions, play music, make our shopping lists and sit quietly on the counter listening to whatever else we may need to converse about. We spend an enormous amount of quality time on social media sites where we send endless and meaningless quizzes and "games" to each other, hoping someone will jump on board with us and answer the questions. After all, if you answer the next 10 questions, you can find out who you were really meant to be. These may seem harmless, but every time one is filled out, all the information goes into a data base. That base then knows birth dates, favorite food, favorite colors, shoes, clothes, vacation spots, likes and dislikes and the list is absolutely endless.
When a person is on a computer, laptop, tablet, phone or whatever and connected to the internet, there will be advertisements for the very things they may have mentioned in one of the above games or quizzes. Or, the advertisement has come from something they have talked about inside their home. You know, that place where you are supposed to feel safe and secure, but you have that device on the end table that will play your favorite song, without you having to lift a finger.
Now, this multi media marketing seems to be taking another step forward into our ever shrinking rights of privacy. The other evening, our friend came over to visit for awhile. We sat around the table and spoke of the confusing nature of the health care field. Since a couple of people in this group were 65+ , the Medicare subject came up and we discussed which plans a person should have. The next morning, our friend contacted me. They had received a phone call, from an insurance agent, that they did not know. The agent told them that he had 'heard' they were looking for a certain Medicare plan.
Folks, that should make a person feel a bit violated because that information was merely brought up in conversation. A conversation that took place with our phones sitting on the table and somehow, some way, the data included our friends' phone number. I'm still wondering how it knew to call the right person, but maybe I do not really want to know the answer.
So, now what? Do we continue to give out all of our hopes and dreams in the chance that some company will deliver it to our door? Do we really believe this is all for consumerism? Perhaps it is, but what are they doing with the information that has nothing to do with our purchases? What happens when they decide to put us into groups because of the way we believe, or the ideas we might have to make the world a better place? Will we find ourselves like the lemmings, following the guy in front of us?
Monday, March 26, 2018
Tuesday, March 20, 2018
Full Of Baloney
It had been a successful time in the kitchen, twice. I had made an old favorite recipe of my mothers', bologna sandwich spread. I had not thought about this tasty dish for many years, but when I saw the large slab of unsliced bologna in the store, I had to give it a try. I was not sure how my husband would react to it, but he loved the first batch, so I made it again.
It was a lovely day and I had opened the sliding glass doors to the deck. Since Runtly, the ever so entertaining Jack Russell Terrier, likes to go out on the deck, I had left the screen opened just enough for him to fit through.
I had just finished making the second batch of sandwich spread and had made two lovely sandwiches. The spread was nestled in crispy lettuce leaves and topped with a slice of tomato. As I set them on the table and started to get into my chair, I caught something out of the corner of my eye.
Since there are two bird feeders that hang above the railing on the deck, naturally, there are several species of birds that visit. One in particular, a Carolina Wren, has decided it not only likes the feeders, it likes the entire deck. The Carolina Wren is slightly larger than the House Wren, rusty brown in color and its tail sticks straight up. They can be quite loud when they are screaming their "Judy, Judy, Judy" call but they also do the familiar chatter of the House Wren. Recently, this bird has taken to pecking on the bottom of the sliding glass door. When Runtly hears this, he likes to get as close to the glass as possible before lunging at the bird. When he has succeeded in frightening the wren, the wren scolds him with a lengthy chatter.
So, I'm just about in my seat and I know instantly what has caught my eye. Mr. Carolina Wren has entered the building, for the third time. The first time he got in, Runtly never saw him and it was easy to get the bird back outside. The second time, I was able to grab Runtly and toss him in the bedroom, shut the door, and again, easily get the bird out. This time Runtly had seen the bird the same time I did and it was on, like Donkey Kong!
It is said that birds are of the dinosaur family. I believe this is true because the wren looked just like a tiny velociraptor as it darted across the floor and behind the couch. As I sprang into action, I saw the Voice, that lives in my head, running down the hallway with a butterfly net and a bee keepers hat on its head. This was going to be interesting. Runtly was already in hot pursuit and he too disappeared behind the couch. I wasn't sure what to expect, but the bird made it out first and continued its fast paced run across the living room floor. As Runtly cleared the end of the couch, my attempt to grab him failed. The Voice was doing nothing but jumping up and down in one place and all I could think to do was yell "Fly birdie, fly!".....and it did.
During this fiasco, my husband is sitting at the table, with his fine sandwich, watching the free lunch time entertainment. The bird had taken flight, I had finally gotten a hold of the dog and we all watched as the wren, ever so gently, landed..... right on the edge of my sandwich. The Voice tossed its equipment in the closet and I went down the hall to shut the dog in the bedroom. When I returned, I asked where the bird might be and was told it was sitting on top of the refrigerator and so it was. I opened the sliding glass door and screen all the way and walked back to the kitchen. Asking the bird nicely to leave the premises, it obediently took flight, rounded the corner out of the kitchen and went straight out the door.
Some may think I'm full of baloney, but seriously, I can't make this stuff up. The sandwich? Yes, yes I did.
It was a lovely day and I had opened the sliding glass doors to the deck. Since Runtly, the ever so entertaining Jack Russell Terrier, likes to go out on the deck, I had left the screen opened just enough for him to fit through.
I had just finished making the second batch of sandwich spread and had made two lovely sandwiches. The spread was nestled in crispy lettuce leaves and topped with a slice of tomato. As I set them on the table and started to get into my chair, I caught something out of the corner of my eye.
Since there are two bird feeders that hang above the railing on the deck, naturally, there are several species of birds that visit. One in particular, a Carolina Wren, has decided it not only likes the feeders, it likes the entire deck. The Carolina Wren is slightly larger than the House Wren, rusty brown in color and its tail sticks straight up. They can be quite loud when they are screaming their "Judy, Judy, Judy" call but they also do the familiar chatter of the House Wren. Recently, this bird has taken to pecking on the bottom of the sliding glass door. When Runtly hears this, he likes to get as close to the glass as possible before lunging at the bird. When he has succeeded in frightening the wren, the wren scolds him with a lengthy chatter.
So, I'm just about in my seat and I know instantly what has caught my eye. Mr. Carolina Wren has entered the building, for the third time. The first time he got in, Runtly never saw him and it was easy to get the bird back outside. The second time, I was able to grab Runtly and toss him in the bedroom, shut the door, and again, easily get the bird out. This time Runtly had seen the bird the same time I did and it was on, like Donkey Kong!
It is said that birds are of the dinosaur family. I believe this is true because the wren looked just like a tiny velociraptor as it darted across the floor and behind the couch. As I sprang into action, I saw the Voice, that lives in my head, running down the hallway with a butterfly net and a bee keepers hat on its head. This was going to be interesting. Runtly was already in hot pursuit and he too disappeared behind the couch. I wasn't sure what to expect, but the bird made it out first and continued its fast paced run across the living room floor. As Runtly cleared the end of the couch, my attempt to grab him failed. The Voice was doing nothing but jumping up and down in one place and all I could think to do was yell "Fly birdie, fly!".....and it did.
During this fiasco, my husband is sitting at the table, with his fine sandwich, watching the free lunch time entertainment. The bird had taken flight, I had finally gotten a hold of the dog and we all watched as the wren, ever so gently, landed..... right on the edge of my sandwich. The Voice tossed its equipment in the closet and I went down the hall to shut the dog in the bedroom. When I returned, I asked where the bird might be and was told it was sitting on top of the refrigerator and so it was. I opened the sliding glass door and screen all the way and walked back to the kitchen. Asking the bird nicely to leave the premises, it obediently took flight, rounded the corner out of the kitchen and went straight out the door.
Some may think I'm full of baloney, but seriously, I can't make this stuff up. The sandwich? Yes, yes I did.
Tuesday, March 13, 2018
Who's Counting?
53 days until you are here. What!? That could not possibly be right. I checked the calendar. He was off a few days, but not much.
Being the queen of procrastination, I realized I had much to accomplish in a very short amount of time. The 53 days, give or take a couple of days, was a message from one of our grandchildren. It was the amount of days left before we would see each other again.
It gave me a completely new perspective of how I view the passing of time. We usually talk in weeks, months and years, but this kid had narrowed it down to days, days that were so merrily ticking by, one by one.
I suppose young people do not count the passage of time in long amounts. Perhaps that is because they are still new to the process, they haven't been programmed to think long term. They live in the now and they think in shorter terms, like days. Some even measure the passage in "sleeps". Only five more sleeps before a special event takes place.
I began to survey my domain. The stack of stuff, that lurks in the corner, getting bigger by the day, was still there. The unfinished artwork, forever frozen in an invisible wind, waiting. I wondered if it was impatient. If it was actually talking to itself. Saying things like, "She has time to do things that have absolutely no importance, why does she not finish me?!" The laptop, sitting quietly, where it has been sitting for.....days, waiting for the rest of the story.
Even now, as I walk away from the keyboard, to pour another cup of tea, wondering just how to finish, I check on the bird feeders, even though I know they are empty. I stop and jot down sunflower seeds on my shopping list.
Procrastination, the habit of putting things off, especially important things, things that need immediate attention. I believe a lot of it comes down to fear, fear of failure. The Voice, that lives inside of my head, whispered in my ear that some of the most successful people in the world had failed many times. But, they did not give up. I wondered if they were procrastinators too, the Voice rolled its eyes and left the room.
53 days. Actually, it is less than that now. Like the Smokey and the Bandit song, "I've got a long ways to go and a short time to get there.." 53 days...but, who's counting?
Being the queen of procrastination, I realized I had much to accomplish in a very short amount of time. The 53 days, give or take a couple of days, was a message from one of our grandchildren. It was the amount of days left before we would see each other again.
It gave me a completely new perspective of how I view the passing of time. We usually talk in weeks, months and years, but this kid had narrowed it down to days, days that were so merrily ticking by, one by one.
I suppose young people do not count the passage of time in long amounts. Perhaps that is because they are still new to the process, they haven't been programmed to think long term. They live in the now and they think in shorter terms, like days. Some even measure the passage in "sleeps". Only five more sleeps before a special event takes place.
I began to survey my domain. The stack of stuff, that lurks in the corner, getting bigger by the day, was still there. The unfinished artwork, forever frozen in an invisible wind, waiting. I wondered if it was impatient. If it was actually talking to itself. Saying things like, "She has time to do things that have absolutely no importance, why does she not finish me?!" The laptop, sitting quietly, where it has been sitting for.....days, waiting for the rest of the story.
Even now, as I walk away from the keyboard, to pour another cup of tea, wondering just how to finish, I check on the bird feeders, even though I know they are empty. I stop and jot down sunflower seeds on my shopping list.
Procrastination, the habit of putting things off, especially important things, things that need immediate attention. I believe a lot of it comes down to fear, fear of failure. The Voice, that lives inside of my head, whispered in my ear that some of the most successful people in the world had failed many times. But, they did not give up. I wondered if they were procrastinators too, the Voice rolled its eyes and left the room.
53 days. Actually, it is less than that now. Like the Smokey and the Bandit song, "I've got a long ways to go and a short time to get there.." 53 days...but, who's counting?
Tuesday, March 6, 2018
Have Some Pie
Sometimes, life throws us a curve ball. We think we have every aspect of life in general figured out and then suddenly, Plan B needs to come into play. Most never have a Plan B in place.
These times tend to leave us in states of confusion. Wondering just what went wrong. How could it have been avoided? What are we supposed to do now? It can leave even the most confidant individual feeling incapable of making a simple decision. Although, in times of great stress or despair, it is never a good idea to make life changing decisions.
These times bring on a sense of hopelessness. That there is no good left in the world. None to be found anywhere. All has been for naught. We feel alone, deserted, forgotten. We have failed.
There is a simple remedy. It will not change the situation one iota, but it may change the way we look at it.
We all know this person, or that family. They are the ones who are seemingly dumber than a box of rocks. They have no skills, they are nearly illiterate and common sense has never been their forte. These people are the ones we usually either look down on, or at the very least, we wish to view them from a distance.
By being so narrow viewed, we fail to see the most important part. They get by. Somehow, some way, they survive. They get through the day, the week, the year. They may be in exactly the same state of being ten years down the road. But, through some magical, mystical phenomenon, they are fine just the way they are with what little they have. They have never heard of or needed a Plan B.
What could we learn from them? To worry less and live more? To understand our worth is not measured by our possessions? That being happy does not take a college degree? Perhaps. Maybe, the most important slice out of this pie called humanity, is the fact that the whole point is to realize everyone has a purpose and are part of a plan. A plan that is much bigger than any Plan B we could have come up with.
These times tend to leave us in states of confusion. Wondering just what went wrong. How could it have been avoided? What are we supposed to do now? It can leave even the most confidant individual feeling incapable of making a simple decision. Although, in times of great stress or despair, it is never a good idea to make life changing decisions.
These times bring on a sense of hopelessness. That there is no good left in the world. None to be found anywhere. All has been for naught. We feel alone, deserted, forgotten. We have failed.
There is a simple remedy. It will not change the situation one iota, but it may change the way we look at it.
We all know this person, or that family. They are the ones who are seemingly dumber than a box of rocks. They have no skills, they are nearly illiterate and common sense has never been their forte. These people are the ones we usually either look down on, or at the very least, we wish to view them from a distance.
By being so narrow viewed, we fail to see the most important part. They get by. Somehow, some way, they survive. They get through the day, the week, the year. They may be in exactly the same state of being ten years down the road. But, through some magical, mystical phenomenon, they are fine just the way they are with what little they have. They have never heard of or needed a Plan B.
What could we learn from them? To worry less and live more? To understand our worth is not measured by our possessions? That being happy does not take a college degree? Perhaps. Maybe, the most important slice out of this pie called humanity, is the fact that the whole point is to realize everyone has a purpose and are part of a plan. A plan that is much bigger than any Plan B we could have come up with.
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