Tag Annoyances

Once and For All

Michael Leave a comment

Yesterday’s mail included a post card with large letters screaming to me “Quit smoking now…for once and for all!” Once and for all is a strange sentiment. I remember that phrase from my mother using it mostly when talking about things that happen more than once because they don’t last for all. Typically something like “I’m telling you for once and for all to get in there and clean up your room.”

That post card didn’t encourage me to clean my room. But that probably wasn’t its intention. It didn’t encourage me to stop smoking either, nor to sign up for the very successful (in its words) smoking cessation program it was hawking. Why not? Because I don’t smoke. A run of the mill solicitation for behavior modification may not know that but my own insurance company should, especially since every time I fill out one of their health questionaires I check “no ” where they ask about smoking.

Last week I got an email from my cable company encouraging me to consider paying my bill electronically. I can save time and money it explained if I would pay my monthly fees using a computer instead of a checkbook. I’m not convinced that it takes less time to open a browser than to open a checbook or if the saving money refers to the one postage stamp a month I can rescue from the clutches of the mailman that comes to a whopping 4 bucks a year is worth the effort. Butler  I am convinced that I already pay them using a monthly auto draft that takes me no time (and saves me at least 4 dollars a year (woohoo)) and they should know that.

About a month ago I was multitasking by watching TV, reading emails and intermittently dozing in my recliner. I opened an email asking me to complete a survey on new trends in technology. Since I was in one of my non-dozing periods I thought I would and clicked on the link in the email – on my tablet. It directed me to a page that read “Were sorry, this survey does not support mobile devices.” Hmm, the survey on new trends in technology doesn’t support the old tablet technology.

It seems to me that there is a lot of information about us that “service” providers have that they must not realize what they have. Or don’t care. Could it be that exemplifies the rest of their service also? Maybe they should reconsider that. For once and for all.

That’s what I think. Really. How ’bout you?

Brutalbee Honest

Michael 2 Comments

Don’t be shocked. I may get a little ranty here. I try to be fair and respectful to everybody regardless of their views. But things I’ve heard in the media lately have gotten me over my edge. One thing I insist on is honesty. At lest from my food.  Apparently food feels it no longer feels it has to hold up its end of the deal.

Once upon a time, honesty in food was a given. “I Can’t Believe It’s Not Butter” took honest to the brutal level. (And now that I think about it, I can’t begin to count the number of women who I’ve tried to tell that honesty doesn’t have to be brutal.) (But I digress.)  But at least the Not Butter people were honest enough so that if you did pick up a stick or two of the stuff you didn’t expect it to be butter. After all, Not Butter is right in the name.

honeybeeOk, food hasn’t always been honest. Sweetbreads don’t come from the bakery. Head cheese doesn’t start out as milk. Neither does soy milk. And don’t bother to bring up lady fingers. But for the most part when you  see something that isn’t it usually says so, like salt substitute or butter flavor popcorn.

However, this latest aberration in food dishonesty has gone too far. Apparently the latest craze is beeless honey. Not only are the proponents of this deviation from good taste (and from good tasting food) dishonest, they claim that this, this, this stuff is protecting the bees. And what are they making this misrepresentation from? Apples. Bananas. Dates. Flax seed oil. All good stuff (well, three out of four) but nothing that could keep a bee buzzing for very long. If you want to sell fruit paste than make it the best tasting fruit paste you can and give it a catchy name like Kit Kat, A1, V8, New Coke. But please, leave the honey business to the experts. Honestly.

No, honesty.

That’s what I think. Really. How ‘bout you?

PS: Happy Groundhog Day!

I’ll See That

Michael Leave a comment

Now that the airspace during our favorite television shows have been returned to consumer advertisers I can return to hating to see a commercial come on simply because it’s annoying. Given that I spent a fair amount of money on my daughter’s degree in advertising and that hopefully it will be remembered fondly when she someday selects my nursing home, I should probably be more grateful that businesses are still advertising. But that hasn’t yet stopped me from uploading a couple dozen posts that rant on about ads.

My favorite ad annoyances are fine print on television commercials and pictures of things that don’t quite look like what is being sold. Apparently in an effort to make my annoyance easier to manage, advertisers combine the two topics onto one image allowing me to create a multi-tasked rant. Yes, small print that actually says the picture is not quite what is being sold.

In a TV commercial for a mattress sale I noticed the disclaimer in small white font that said, “Mattress photographs are for illustration purposes only.” What does that mean? I hope it’s not their way of saying look at this pretty mattress and look at this great price, and if you just come into the store we will be happy to show you what mattress you really get for this price.

matressad

Car makers have been good about adding fine print to their ads for years. It’s often only a half a shade darker than the background making it effectively illegible even if it wasn’t sized smaller than a well-proportioned dust mite. In addition to disclaimers that models shown may be of a different model year than the current, that some equipment is optional, and that dealers set the actual prices, I spotted one that actually said the one pictured is nice but is roughly $13,000 more than the big numbers that you can read.

carad

I suppose those who are responsible for the fine print (aka corporate lawyers) can argue that we should be happy that they are encouraging their clients to be forthright and truthful in their advertising. But I’m willing to bet that when they submit their bills to their clients that they make sure the total due is in a pretty good sized font.

That’s what I think. Really. How ‘bout you?

 

The First Shall be Last

Michael Leave a comment

Now that the “major party” conventions are over the ads and pundits (neither having anything to do with reality) can begin. It was less than a week ago that news broadcasts, outlets, websites, feeds, and editors began remarking on the nation’s first woman candidate for president. Someone even went so far as to note that this fall, the US voters will get to cast ballots for their first woman, first outsider, or first third party president. And that on the heels of the outgoing first African-America president. Actually, none of those labels are correct. I’ll ‘splain that later. First, let’s look at some legitimate firsts that really have happened over this last year.

Actually the first first hasn’t officially happened yet but some games have already taken place and the opening ceremonies will take center stage tomorrow night in Rio. That first is the first Olympic games to be held in South America. The odds have been against that particular continent since the games re-appeared in 1896. That’s because South America is almost completely in the Southern Hemisphere. In the 120 year history of the modern Olympics this is only the third time the summer games have been held in the Southern Hemisphere. (The other two times have both been in Australia.) The Winter Olympics have never taken place south of the Equator.

The second first just happened in the past few days and it got very little press even within the United States which is odd since every news broadcast, outlet, website, etc., etc. was so big on talking about firsts. That news was that for the first time the Center for Disease Control released a travel advisory for within the US encouraging travelers not to do so in South Florida. They even came up with some suggestions for the people who live there – try to stay inside.

The third first is (and here let’s dispense with individually numbering each first and collectively address all the remaining firsts as “remaining firsts begin with”) Cuba now has wireless internet service for the first time. Sticking with computers, the US Food and Drug Administration approved a drug manufactured by 3D printing for the first time. (High dose Levetiracetam for epilepsy). Still with computers but heading back south, the Rio Olympics will be the first games where every event will be available somewhere on-line.  In entertainment of a different kind, a film grossed over 500 million dollars in its opening weekend for the first time (Jurassic World). And speaking of DNA (Jurassic World, remember) human trials on T-cell augmented cancer treatments using the body’s own cells to fight cancer began this year. And if you want to write about that and be grammatically correct while addressing a particular test subject without knowing his or her sex, you may now officially use the third person singular and not be chastised by your grade school English teacher.

So the next time you have to hear about the first woman running for president consider that there have been 5 women nominated by recognized political parties on general election ballots for president. In fact, 1884 the Equal Rights Party presented an all woman ticket for president and vice president. And the next time you have to hear about the first outsider running for president consider that four sitting presidents never held an elected position before being elected president. And when you next hear of how a third party candidate could win this year’s election consider that of the 44 elected presidents, only 30 have been republicans or democrats. One (Washington) had no party affiliation (and yes, there were political parties then), and one (Tyler) changed parties while in office.

If you should hear about any of these “firsts” feel free to mention to the speaker to not worry, there are lots of other real firsts going on all around us. All they have to do is pick their head out of their – ummm… All you have to do is look.

That’s what I think. Really. How ‘bout you?

Faster Than a Speeding Steam Shovel

Michael Leave a comment

Some years ago I posted a series of tales featuring the dubious driving abilities of those who had managed to plow their vehicles into unsuspecting, immovable buildings. (Enter “Cars” and “Building” into the site search window and you’ll find those contributions.) With the exception of one follow-up a year ago I stopped such posts not because I stopped finding them in the local news but that they had become so commonplace that I feared if I continued you’d develop a less than admirable perception of drivers from my part of the country. But even that can’t stop this installment.

Among last Monday morning’s news stories which included two separate car vs building scuffles and one report of a garbage truck assailing a house in an early morning sneak attack (apparently even the driver was unaware of it at the time) was a related incident. But first, we should take a moment and explore how one directs a vehicle under his or her control into a quite stationary, often multi-storied structure.

I don’t buy the excuse of “I thought I was hitting the brakes.” The pedal configuration in automobiles has been the same for roughly 110 years. That’s longer than anybody who has run into a building has been driving. It’s longer even than anybody who has run into a building has been breathing. No, you don’t suddenly “forget” which pedal is which. I also don’t buy the excuse that “I was distracted.” Distracted driving is indeed a real thing. Many accidents and unfortunately many accidental deaths have been caused by distracted drivers. That I am not disputing. But to hit a building you must leave the roadway, climb over curbs, drive through hedgerows and/or parking meters, flush quail and other small animals often including startled, screaming human beings before striking an object with force enough to propel your vehicle through it. I might buy operator death while driving but since all of the reports that I have seen end with “the driver claimed he (or she) thought he (or she) was hitting his (or her) brakes” and/or “the driver claims to have been distracted,” death clearly has been ruled out.

So now that we’ve explored how one directs a vehicle into a non-vehicle we know no more about the mental state of these drivers than we did before said exploration other than to say they are mental.

SS1And that brings us to my latest report. A man drove his back hoe into the living room of a house. He then drove off! Fortunately (that’s how the local police chief described it, “fortunately”) the homeowner got a good description of the vehicle and officers who were on patrol nearby were able to track down the alleged operator. Fortunately (yes, “fortunately”) they had that good description and they were able to stop the correct backhoe driving down the road. It would have been quite embarrassing to stop the wrong one with pieces of picture window frame hanging from it.

Thank God he didn’t drive around to window #2!

That’s what I think. Really. How ‘bout you?

 

The Rotten Pot

Michael Leave a comment

The potpourri – a quite lovely arrangement of highly scented dried flowers used to decorate and perfume.  Or collection of songs or poems, or a mélange of thoughts, ideas, or fact.  Whatever you want to make of it, or make it from, it is a beautiful order of otherwise unrelated things. In fact, I have often used it in post titles when I have too little of any one thing rummaging around in my head to add up to a couple hundred words of lucid thinking thus keeping that post from getting too ugly. Until now.

Now we have the not so flattering side of the potpourri – it’s otherwise disagreeable origin. From seventeenth century French it is literally the “rotten pot.” And today is a collection of the rotten side of reality that stuck its ugly face in my path this week.

The major ingredient in this pot is “some people’s children.” Not once, not twice, but three times just since Sunday did I get to witness not one, not two, but three little monsters disturbing the peace and leaving it in pieces.

There was the 3 or 4 year old girl (or boy, at that age does it matter) who made her own potpourri while seated in a shopping cart and systematically pulled petal after petal from the bouquet of flowers I suppose that her mother left with her to keep her (the child) occupied while she (the mother) gave her order to the deli counter clerk (and who couldn’t contain herself (the clerk) and pointed out the impromptu de-blooming). And then there was the 6 or 7 year old girl who at the local party store walked through a full aisle of piñata, punching one after the other until she got bored with that, realized that mom was not within arm’s reach, and wailed at the approximate pitch and volume of an ambulance siren.

But the killer (could we wish) was the around six-ish boy (I think) who stood (yes stood!) on the conveyor belt at the supermarket checkout line while he (I think) systematically threw every item in the impulse rack above the belt onto the belt to his (hers?) mother’s chorus of “Please get back in the cart, get in the cart, get back in the cart, I’m telling you get back in the cart, this is the last time now get back in the cart, get in the cart, get in the cart.” When the cashier had the nerve to say “It’s all right,” I couldn’t just stand there idly at the next check-out line. I said “No, it’s not alright. It’s rude and disgusting. And it’s why I’m in this line because I’m certainly not putting my food on that belt and if I were you (now directed to the cashier) I’d have someone get over there and clean that up.” And I actually felt good about myself having said something until the mother said, “Like that belt was any too clean before.”

And that was my mélange of otherwise unrelated urges to kill.

That’s what I think. Really. How ‘bout you?

 

You think your commute is challenging

Michael Leave a comment

The weather forecasters are saying it will be chilly this weekend, somewhere between 25 and 30 degrees colder than the first half of this week and only 8 degrees above freezing during the daytime. That will probably be a better time to take the little car out for a spin than in clear, 70 degree, sunshiney weather.

If you’ve been reading for a while you know I have a little red convertible that gets about as much use as you would imagine in an area where the average temperature is 52 degrees F and it rains or snows almost 150 days a year. But when the sun comes out the top goes down and I understand the true meaning of the phrase “worth the wait.” Right up until some guy with more testosterone than brains spots me.

I went out in the middle of the day when the real men with huge pick-up trucks riding on 28 inch wheels with massive brush guards, multiple running lights, and chrome steps to get into the cab should have been at work doing something involving torches and welders’ masks and comparing tattoos. But no, there was one about ¾ mile behind me when I slipped onto the onramp of the local expressway. I heard him, or rather his mufflerless behemoth, snarling up behind me. He closed that ¾ mile before I made it all the way to the end of the acceleration ramp and in his desire to make certain I knew he had more horsepower at his disposal than I did, he passed me on the single lane ramp and launched himself onto the highway mainline. Right in front of another mini-monster truck a few miles per hour above the speed limit. It was a spectacular sight in my rear view mirror. You could almost see their premiums going up.

I pulled onto the shoulder and waited until I saw that both of the not quite matured miscreants were moving about on their own power and then eased back into traffic and continued on my spring shake-out tour. You would think I’d have been shocked at the carnage (or trucknage if you prefer) and I was the first time or two such craziness happened. Unfortunately this goes on every year when I, and presumably everyone else with a weekend roadster, first hit the road.

In a month or so the craziness will wane perhaps because the crazy mongers become used to seeing us on the road again or perhaps because they run out of clean underwear.

That’s what I think. Really. How ‘bout you?

(Yes, I know this is St. Patrick’s Day and I didn’t say anything about that in my post. Monday was Pi Day and I didn’t bring that up then either. I’m not totally predictable.) (Am I?)

 

In Like a Lyin’

Michael Leave a comment

March may traditionally come in like a lion but the first week of this month had me thinking of all the official lies we have had forced upon us. Damn those government bureaucrats. They’ve taken four shots per bottle away from us in the name of world-wide conformity and nobody has said a thing about it. Clearly I am talking about the metric system. Either that or else clearly, I’ve completely lost it this time.

Once upon a time, in fact once upon the 1890s as the temperance movement was gaining ground, laws were being passed to permit sales of alcohol by bottles “to go” rather than by the drink “for here” to discourage people from drinking outside the home and thus appearing drunk in public. Better to be drunk in front of family I suppose. Anyway, the lowest legal amount one could sale for removal from the premises was four-fifths of a quart, aka 25 2/3 ounces or one fifth of a gallon. Thus a fifth was born.

Then, once upon another time, this one in fact once upon the mid 1970s, the Bureau of Alcohol, Tobacco, and Firearms further reduced that commercial package to a standard volume of 750ml, a loss of an additional 7ml. Why, after three-quarters of a century of people losing almost 6 ounces of good whiskey per bottle did the aforementioned bureaucrats see fit to lop off enough to make for a full four shot loss (based on a 1-1/2 ounce shot)? Because President Gerald Ford signed the Metric Conversion Act and ATF wasn’t going to be remembered as slackers when people looked back during the next century to see how terrific life became because of the metrication of America. (And now when somebody brings up Gerald Ford’s accomplishments as President, you’ll have something to contribute.) (You’re welcome.)

That’s why every year when I hear somebody trot out that old saw “March, in like a lion, out like a lamb” (guffaw, guffaw), my brain translates that to “in like a lyin’” you-know-what and mourns the loss of all that good bourbon.

That’s what I think. Really. How ‘bout you?

Outdated

Michael Leave a comment

You know, I’m not so sure this is exactly what Punxsutawney Phil had in mind when he predicted an early spring on Tuesday. Yesterday I was driving about and I passed a restaurant whose marquee proclaimed “Patio Open!” Indeed it was a warmish day but it is still February and I was driving north of the Mason Dixon Line. I had a look at the patio as I motored past it. Those chairs were metal! I don’t care if it is a warmish February, if you are sitting out there you will have a less than warmish behind.

It made me wonder, was that restaurant really ready to relegate patrons to the refrigerator? Or perhaps had the owner not updated the signage since last April? It’s been known to happen that not everybody stays as up to date as one might. I offer these observations.

The local mega-market adjusted its hours last year. I recall when the signs went up. One sign in particular. “The Beer Department will close at 9pm effective January 20, 2015.” After more than a year it’s time to retire that sign.

The corner fruit market has two signs in the window proclaiming its operating hours. One is headed “Summer Hours” and the other “Winter Hours.” There is no notice of when each becomes effective, or for the half-empty crowd, is no longer valid.

Hanging on the door to my doctor’s office is a sign reading, “Effective July 1, all billing will be handled by XYZ specialists.” Does that mean they are giving patients a very long notice or that they have forgotten to take it down?

And let us not forget the cheery voice every time you try to call bank, insurance company, hospital, auto mechanic, or piano teacher, who has greeted callers with, “Please listen carefully as our menu items have changed,” since 1996.

Expiration dates shouldn’t be just for milk.

That’s what I think. Really. How ‘bout you?

 

On the Tenth Day of Christmas my True Love Gave to Me – Ten items or less, cash only.

Michael 2 Comments

Four days into the New Year. Now would be a good time to get back to normal. If you’ve been reading for a while you know that I am still in the midst of the holiday season. I won’t de-holiday until the Feast of the Epiphany, counting through all of the proverbial twelve days and marking the presentation of gifts by the Wise Men. It’s a quaint custom observed by few.

But some customs I’ll be glad to see go and the sooner the better. I would give a present a day for each of those aforementioned twelve to not have to spend 45 minutes in the checkout line at the grocery store. I can see the specialty shops being busier than normal during the holidays but for the life of me I don’t understand how an everyday, ordinary supermarket turns into Mecca between Thanksgiving and New Year’s Day. Where do all the people come from, why are they concentrating so intently at the produce as if they are perusing the masterpieces at the Louvre, and please tell me where do these people shop the rest of the year?

You can’t say they are there more because they need more during the holidays. That argument only works if you can say that someone who normally buys 1 pound of coffee but because there will be guests now needs 3 pounds of coffee that the someone will make three trips in to buy three one-pound containers of coffee.  You can’t say it’s because they are buying more and different things to eat over the holidays. They aren’t; they are substituting. Instead of buying a pack of chicken breast they are buying a whole turkey. Instead of stew meat they are reaching for a standing rib roast. Whether the green beans end up sautéed with onions and mushrooms or baked into a casserole with fried onions on top they are still just a pound of green beans.

Yes, I’ll be glad to see my store return to its pre-holiday emptiness with the only waiting done at checkout is for the cashier to ask how things are going this week.

That’s what I think. Really. How ‘bout you?