Category: Culture

Light At The End Of The Techie Tunnel

TechiesI gave up trying to work with the electronics industry many moons ago.  Techies and their minions all think they’re medieval village priests with a direct line to the One True God — and they’re insufferable because of it.  However, recently I discovered there’s a light at the end of the tunnel.  Some of the folks might be real people, after all.

Let me explain:

I was killing some time and went into an electronics store to try and find a set of labels to identify which cord fits what in the ever-expanding octopus that now accompanies my technological life.  FYI (and you know this) every digital device on this planet comes with a cord (cords?) They’re all black, they’re all tangled, each of them fits only one thing, and they’re everywhere.  Anyway, I found what I was looking for — 10 sticky labels for a reasonable $9.95 — and went to pay.  This is not the actual conversation.  I’ve shortened it and taken out most of the swearing, but the conclusion is verbatim.

Perky Clerk:  Good Afternoon.

Me:  Hiya.  Just this. (places item on the counter and fumbles in pockets)

Perky Clerk:  Do you have our Rewards Card?

Me:  Nah, I’m from across town.  (pushes the item closer to the cashier)

PC:  Would you like to get one of our Rewards Card, today?  It’s free and you get a 20% discount on today’s purchase and 10% off any future purchases to a maximum of $1,000.00 a year.  Plus, you get …

Me:  No, I’m good.

PC:  For example (Perky Clerk picks up item and scans it — N.B. all the sales information is now in the system) you’d save $2.00 plus tax.

Me:  No, like I say, I’m from across town. I’d never use it.

PC:  Our Rewards Cards are good at over 200 locations all across the country.

Me:  I’m sure it’s a great deal, but really– no thanks.

PC:  Alright. (Perky Clerk looks at me as if I were the Village Idiot’s half- witted brother)  It’s up to you.

Me:  (various grunts and shrugs)

PC:  Could I have your email address?

Me:  What?  No, I don’t want the card.  It’s just this. (pushes item at perky clerk)

PC:  That’s fine, sir. This is for our warranty.

Me:  Warranty?

PC:  All our merchandise comes with “Our Personal Guarantee” 90 day warranty or you can purchase an extended warranty for 1, 3, or 5 years.

Me:  These are paper labels with glue at one end!  What kind of a warranty am I’m going to need?  No, I don’t want the warranty. (pulls money out of pocket)

PC:  All our merchandise comes with “Our Personal Guarantee” 90 day warranty, sir.  (Perky Clerk gives me the “Why are you being such an asshole?” look.)

Me:  (lays the money on the counter)  I don’t care.  Here’s the labels; here’s my money.  You don’t need my email address.

PC:  (still perky)  I’m sorry sir, but I can’t do the transaction without your email address.

Me:  Yes, you can.  I saw you.  You scanned it just a minute ago.

PC:  That was a price check, sir.  The system won’t recognize a sale without an email address.

Me:  I’m not giving you my email address.  All you’re going to do is clutter up my computer with a bunch of sales crap I don’t want. (unruly muttering behind me)

PC:  You can go to our website and decline our promotional offers at any time, sir.

Me:  I don’t want to go to your web site.  I don’t want your Rewards Card.  I don’t want your warranty.  In fact, I don’t want any of this bullshit.  I just want to buy some labels and get the hell out of here. (straightening up defiantly while unruly muttering behind me gets louder)

Perky Clerk:  Sir, may I suggest you quit being a douche and just give me a fake address so I can get on with my job.

Me:  Oh — uh — right.  Boy, do I ever feel stupid.

Perky Clerk:  No worries.  We get that a lot here.

Pokemon Go — Everybody Wins

PikachuPokemon Go has just been released in Canada (shows you what kinda second tier country we are). Everybody’s jumped ship to go hunt for the little bastard and his buddies and now there’s nobody left to talk to.  Not that the conversation has been up to much these days, what with Taylor Swift feuding with Kanye and Kim — again, Russian athletes getting caught for doping — again — and some Playboy bunny being publically shamed for publically shaming some other woman earlier in the week.  Plus ça change!

(To be fair, Dani Mathers, the original shamer, apologized —  not to the woman she made fun of — the shamee — but to the Internet in general.  Then she offered some lame ass “sorry-I’m-a-techno-idiot” excuse for posting the picture and making her juvenile joke.  Oddly, she never mentioned the teeny-tiny fact that she’d just taken a naked photograph of a stranger — without permission.  Personally, I thought there were laws against such things but in the brave new world of who’s on the shaming carousel, I’m pretty certain law enforcement has thrown up its hands in disgust.)

Anyway, enough about shaming.

I’m a huge fan of this Pokemon Go phenom and in my opinion the Pokemon people are doing humanity a great service.

One — Pokemoners (Pokemonites?) (Pokemonians?) are vertical and moving.  This is a good thing.  Video games have a tendency to weaken the mind and widen the backside, so, getting hordes of pale people out of their basement ass grooves has got to be a positive thing.  This might not be a lot of exercise but … it’s better than what we had.  Honestly, some of the folks I’ve seen stumbling around staring at their phones look as if they haven’t bestirred themselves since the original video game came out in 1995.

Two — A strange thing happens when gamers are unleashed from their consoles and their television sets — they act like real people.  I’ve seen people — this is true — talking to each other.  They use hand gestures, body language and facial expressions.  I’ve seen them flirt, cavort and even discuss.  Obviously, it’s all about which little fellow they found, didn’t find or are looking for but, still, it’s a start.

And finally:

Three — As long as the Pokemon hunt is on, there is a whole pile of  Internet personalities who just aren’t there — they’re previously engaged.  I’m not one of these “get-a-life” people. Honestly, if you want to spend your time playing with imaginary creatures that’s your business and who am I to judge?  (After all. I write fiction, for God’s sake!)  However, it doesn’t bother me a bit that I’ve noticed the number of nasty, gossipy, disjointed and just plain idiotic comments on the Internet have decreased since Pokemon Go has hove up on the horizon.  So, it looks like we all win.  Just sayin’!

I Hate My Stuff

stuffI’m getting overwhelmed by my stuff.  Not the regular stuff, like tables and chairs or the fridge or the microwave, but all the bits and bobs that have accumulated in my life without my knowledge.  The stuff that showed up one day and just never went away.  The second letter opener hiding in my desk, the plastic container shaped like an Oreo cookie, the Lake Wobegon cup, the book of British Hallmarks that’s two millimetres too tall for the shelf, and on and on.  This isn’t stuff I need, or stuff I even ever wanted; it’s just stuff that belongs to me.  And it’s all good stuff.  It isn’t broken or anything — or useless — like those electronic cables to nowhere neatly wrapped and arranged in the bottom drawer of my file cabinet.  These are perfectly good inanimate objects that I just don’t know what to do with.  However, there are some options;

 

1 — I could just throw the junk away.  Not likely!  I grew up in a time when tossing useful things in the trash just because you didn’t want them anymore was a mortal sin — one that no amount of Hail Marys could cleanse. ( And believe me, the last thing I need is another sin on my soul.)

2 — I could recycle everything.  Unfortunately, I’ve always been sceptical about our contemporary out-of-sight/problem-solved approach to unwanted items.  Nobody has ever successfully explained to me what happens to things after they get “recycled.”  Personally, I think “recyclable” is just a feel-good word for trash that doesn’t smell.

3  — I could donate it all to charity.  Good luck with that!  I have a feeling there aren’t many poor people who really need or even want a set of My Little Pony shot glasses (Don’t ask!) So the fact is any charity I choose would probably only end up being a halfway house on the way to the landfill.

4 — I could pack it all in boxes, stash the boxes in the back of the closet, never speak of it again and hope the executors of my will don’t curse me for the coward I am, as they’re carting the crap off to the dump.

Or:

5 — I could just move the stuff around so it looks different and hope I can fool myself into thinking I’ve actually made an effort to finally take care of the situation.

Sounds good.  Problem solved!