Device Difficulties

The first thing I do every morning is turn on all my devices.

Yeah…I know.

I probably shouldn’t have turned them off in the first place…but I do.

I can’t help it…all those little amber lights staring at me in the dark, make me nuts.

And I’m cheap.

Plus, I can’t tolerate the idea of my devices being up all night without me.

I’m afraid I might miss something…or worse, they’ll talk about me.

Because they can do that now, these devices…they can talk to each other.

They’re all pretty smart. 

Too smart….

Right?

Kind of makes me long for the days when the only device I had to worry about in the morning was the coffee maker.

But even then I had trouble because my coffee maker had attitude, which in itself wasn’t so bad, but tack that on to the little judgmental thing it had going on…well, who needs that first thing, every day.

But at least the coffee maker didn’t talk to the toaster.

Not that I’m aware of.

Now when I wake up, I turn on my phone, my bedroom TV, my office computer, my office monitor, my office printer, my office scanner, my office TV…my bathroom radio, my all in one ultrasonic toothbrush/razor/nose hair and ear hole trimmer…and that’s just the second floor.

On the first floor I turn on my laptop, sunroom TV, sunroom DVR, sunroom audio system, kitchen TV…and then my new, non-judgmental coffee maker.

Then it’s usually time for lunch.

Imagine if I owned an iPhone.

If I owned an iPhone I’d have to turn that on too.

And I’ve heard iPhones can be really judgmental.

“You gained 2 pounds today…”

“You’re going out in that shirt?”

“Don’t you think it’s time you called your mother?”

Same thing with the iPad.

“Don’t you think it’s time you upgraded me to a 3…I mean don’t the Johnsons have a 3?”

How does it know the Johnsons have a 3?

Who needs that?

It’s bad enough when my computer butts in when I’m in the middle of something important, like this blog, and tells me there’s an upgrade for my badminton software.

Or that my virus definitions are out of date.

Really?

Who needs to know the latest description of the swine flu?

Who?

Or that a new version of Flash is available.

What the heck is Flash?

That thing my old gym teacher used to teach us?

And besides…what was wrong with the old version?

Or that a nice girl named Mona is trying to make changes to my windows.

I get that one every day for some reasons…and I never find anything new about my windows.

Of course my car can tell me what the temperature is, both inside and out, plus how much air I have in my tires.

I don’t mind that too much, but I do have a problem when it tells me I’ve been eating too much red meat.

Speaking of which…cars, I mean, not red meat…We’re getting a new car in the very near future and I hear the new models now know how to answer your phone for you.

So that might be kind of cool…unless Z’s in the car with me when Mona calls.

I don’t think Z would understand the $8.99 per minute rates that apply.

And now that I think about it, that is a lot of money just to make changes to my windows.

Oh wait…the microwave is beeping…it’s a little insecure and always craves attention.

Or is that the stove?

Nope…I think it’s the dishwasher.

It must have finished paying my bills.

See what I mean…way too many devices.

I better start turning them off, so I can get to bed by midnight.

Tweet Follow @FreelanceRetort

For the Fat Lady

A year ago today I clicked a button and posted my first story online.

So I guess you could say "The Freelance Retort" came into this world on May 14^th, 20011 at 12:04 PM, which I only know because it says so on the bottom of the page, not because I’m one of those weird savants who remembers everything that ever happened to them.  

And 177 posts later…here I am…still.

Sorry....

But there’s no one more surprised than me.

I hadn’t intended to start a blog…it just happened.

I mean I’d thought about it for years.

And a lot of people suggested it would be a good thing for me to do, way back when I didn’t even know what blog meant.

They thought it might help reduce the number of vagrancy summonses I received in a month.

And they were right…I’m down to just 6.

I’d been thinking of doing something like this for a while and was finally spurred into action by the revelation that the world’s end was due, last May 21^st.

I figured if that were the case then I really wouldn’t have to write more than a few pieces, so what the heck. But, as luck would have it, the whole thing was re-calculated...so now…here I sit...still writing.

My first post, “May21st—The End of Days! What Happens to the Nights?” actually came to light as an extended text message to a friend who had been the sole recipient of my insanity for years…much to her dismay and repeated attempts to change her e-mail address and phone number.

Since she hadn't called the police this time—at least not right away—I thought maybe I was on to something, so I turned it into a blog.

In case you don’t know, “Blog” comes from “Web Log”, one of the many new terms and phrases born of the Internet age.

Blog…Blogger….

Personally, I’m not all that crazy about the word. It’s got a second class citizenship thing about it. As if it’s not real writing; just something cranked out by some nobody, with a computer, with not much else to do other than type up their idle thoughts and insipid ideas and insights on things transpiring in the world and their day to day middling lives. It also comes with the naive presumption that any of it matters and that somehow it will find its way into the lives of others who will somehow be inspired to cure cancer…or at least take a walk on a nice afternoon. 

As if anybody cared…..

As if anybody noticed….

But yeah…I guess that’s kind of all true.

In any case, it is what you make of it.

And like I said, I’ve made about 177 stories out of it, or approximately 123,900 words, the size of 2 short novels or one big one.

But who’s counting…other than me apparently.

Not a big deal, really.

There are a lot of people out there who have been doing this for years…some even every day.

Although I've heard they’ve made great strides in treating that particular affliction with electroshock therapy.

I tried the every day thing for a while; when I was still finding my way, back in June. 

But that didn't work out...at least for me...or anyone who knew me.

At the time I was still trying to figure out why I was doing this, and to what end I was doing this. So one day I was looking around to see who else was doing it.  And lo and behold, I stumbled across another blogger named Terry Marotta, who a lot of you know and read. 

In case you don’t know, she’s actually more than just a blogger. She’s a legitimate, award winning, syndicated columnist who’s read all across the country by A LOT of people.

She’s also one of the electroshock therapy candidates, which hopefully she’ll disdain so we can all continue to read her every day on “Exit Only”.

Anyway, I contacted Ms. M one day, when I was on the verge of chucking the whole thing, and she actually answered me with the response to just write every day and see what happens. She then told me politely that she would check out my blog and we would be friends to the end.

And surprisingly, nearly a year later, we’re well on our way to being just that…even though I’ve never actually met her.

You know...because of the restraining order....

I’ve never mentioned her or thanked her before on this thing but I thought this was a good time to do it.

I won’t go into a lot of details but the truth is—if it weren’t for this lady with the odd Boston accent, I probably wouldn’t have made it to a month...let alone a year.

And I wouldn’t have even the small handful of readers I do have if it weren’t for her graciously mentioning me and my silly blog a couple of times on hers…even though it took a great amount of whining and moaning on my part to get her to do it.

But that’s what she does. She inspires and motivates a lot of people…not by preaching or teaching…but by just doing what she does so well…every day.

And so I have no choice but to try and keep up, lest I disappoint.

Damn!

In truth we’re a lot different because she’s actually a lot more forthcoming about herself than I am. She’s brave enough to wear her heart on her sleeve, for the most part, where as I bury mine, for the most part, under a pile of absurdities.

But we’re both alike in that as difficult as it can be, on any given day, to put something worthwhile down on a page, we do it for the “fat lady sitting on the porch swatting flies”.

That’s a Salinger reference for all you "Franny and Zooey" folks.  I’m not saying anyone's a fat fly hating female…not that’s there’s anything wrong with that.  But if you go to the last few pages of the book you'll know what I'm talking about. And then you should go to the first page and read the whole thing....but by then you'll know the ending. 

So you should have read it in the first place...a long time ago.

But as usual I digress....

Anyway, thanks for joining in and hanging on.

And here’s the biggest secret of all, to which I think Ms. Marotta (who is definitley not fat...just slightly askew) would agree.

We also do it for ourselves.

But don’t tell anybody.

Especially the fat lady….

For the latest Retorts: Click here

Tweet Follow @FreelanceRetort

Share this on Facebook

Tolerate the Retorts on Facebook
—"Like" is much too much of a commitment—

I Think I’m Missing Something

The soap is getting smaller.

I don’t mean while I’m using it smaller.

I mean out of the wrapper smaller.

It doesn’t even fill out the whole wrapper any more.

Like it went on a diet or something and now its clothes don’t fit.

The tuna is smaller too. 

Along with the can, though.

The tuna knew enough to go out and get a new wardrobe.

Not like the soap.

The box of brownie mix is smaller.

Even has new baking instructions…that includes a smaller pan.

But they take longer to bake….

Go figure.

The box of cookies is smaller.

So is the carton of ice cream.

The crackers too.

Soup…smaller.

Quart of milk…smaller...don’t know how, but it is.

The Gallon too.

Toothpaste.

Mouthwash.

Powder.

And other such sundry items.

Everything is getting smaller, except the prices.

The prices stay the same.

Well, not everything is getting smaller.

Some things are actually getting bigger…like my feet, which is weird.

The big soda bottle actually got bigger too.

Once it was a half-gallon.

Now it’s two liters…which is more…I think.

But a 12 pack has turned into an 8 pack.

Some candy bars are bigger…but they cost more too.

My phone got bigger…then smaller…then bigger again.

So did my ego, and now it took off with the cute ego next door and I haven’t seen it for a while.

I’m hoping it brings back souvenirs, or at least some taffy.

But I’m not holding my breath.

I know better than to count on my ego.

Sometimes if you buy something you can get 10%, 20% even 30% more of whatever it is.

Not sure why.

But it makes me nervous.

I don’t know if more is good.

I mean why wasn’t what it was enough in the first place.

Why do I need more?

And who decided what was “enough” in the first place?

And what about” New Improved”.

Or “Better tasting”?

What’s that supposed to mean…?

They knew it sucked before, but they sold it to us anyway?

How about “Original”?

Are there unoriginal versions?

Did the revised version not pan out?

Same with “Traditional”.

How about that?

What’s the difference between “Less Fat and Low Fat”?

How will I not get fat if I don’t know that…about the fat…said the cat…in the hat.

Has some one checked to see if the Half & Half really is?

And what if you only need a half of Half & Half?

What then?

But take it from me…don’t try to figure these things out.

You’ll only end up with more confusion in your life.

Not to mention peculiar looks.

Like with double coupons….

And double double coupons….

Does that mean a dollar coupon is worth 4 dollars or 8?

How come only some things are “On Sale”?

Does that mean you can’t buy the other things?

Or are they free?

Why are they “NOW” giving me 8 pairs of underpants instead of 6?

Is there something wrong with them?

How does a single underpant become a pair, in the first place?

And how can there be such a thing as a boxer brief?

And why are they brief in the first place?

Shouldn’t they last longer…?

I think I’m missing something…..

____________________________________________________

If you enjoy the Retort, please click "Like" on the FLR Facebook Page. 
 
If you don't like it, please click the same button...but with a negative attitude.


Or you can just

Tolerate the Retorts on Facebook if "Like" is too much of a commitment

For the latest Retorts: Click here

 

Follow @FreelanceRetort on Twitter    Tweet

Share this on Facebook

 
 
 

Say What…?

Like a lot of people in my hometown I recently received my 2012 Village Newsletter in the mail.  And unlike a lot of people in my hometown, I actually read the thing…or tried to read the thing.

But it was difficult…at least the report entitled “Assuring the Future: Managing growth for livability, sustainability and safety” was difficult; at least for me.

Any title that has any kind of “-ability” word in it, let alone two, is usually difficult for me. But I don’t have an MBA. I only have a BS in Communications (which speaks for itself and is open to several interpretations) and a BA in psychology (which also speaks for itself, but is way too judgmental and never shuts up).

And no, it wasn’t because I was looking at the Spanish version by mistake.  I actually figured that out by the fourth paragraph. This was the full blown English version, a language I utilize every day…well, except for Tuesdays; on Tuesdays I speak a language of my own design, which, other than making it difficult to order coffee at the Diner, makes me feel special.

But I digress….

It’s not that I don’t appreciate the hard work that went in to the report, or that I take issue with its message or intent…I don’t. The bottom line is: it’s a positive message.  It’s just the way in which it was conveyed, namely, in a blizzard of corporate mumbo jumbo.

Granted, I freelance in this particular area so I’m a little sensitive to this type of thing.  Or you could say my sensitivablity is way too high. Mostly because I come across it all the time, and it makes me a little nutty…you know, aside from all the other things.  

They’re usually written by some well-meaning, corporate bureaucrat (not that there’s anything wrong with that) that’s assigned the chore, and whose task it becomes to communicate the importance of the topic at hand without revealing too much information, while making it sound like a lot of information, and by, most importantly, making it sound smart.

Even worse, these communications are sometimes written by committee, whereby several corporate bureaucrats (again, not that there’s anything wrong with that, either) all want to sound smarter than each other.

In either case, what usually happens is you end up with a document, such as this one, that causes your brain to stick by the third paragraph, like a needle on a broken record…or if you’re not old enough to get that reference…like that time you dropped your iPod in your soup, dude.


Either way, your stickabilty quotient is through the roof.

Other hallmarks of these types of things are a lot of words such as synergies, disciplines, cohesion, functions and work flow.

Words you use every day…like when you’re synergizing your linen closet or institutionalizing those paisley ties you like so much.

But I did get through the report…eventually, after a few readings, over several days, and a consultation with several noted cryptologists.

The first thing we were able to determine was that it was about growth…mostly because it’s in the title and the header and used another 8 times in the first 4 paragraphs. 

Not sure what kind of growth…but it’s some kind…and I’m sure it’s good, because all growth is good….

Right?

I mean unless its negative growth, which is what my doctor told me is happening to my spine.

So that’s bad.

It also seems that a bunch of departments that had previously worked at cross purposes are being re-organized into one.

The report states:

“Historically, an informal working relationship existed between each of these disciplines. Unfortunately, that informality often resulted in inefficiency and lack of cohesion among the functions.”

I guess that means people were showing up to work in flip flops and shorts, which made it hard to concentrate because they couldn’t get the picture of all those hairy legs and toes out of their heads. 


Somehow, this also lead to their functions becoming unglued, which, as you know, if you’ve ever had that experience, is embarrassing.

Of course there’s a reference to “developing an effective team orientation”, which is always nice because of the cool t-shirts and caps that come along with that. This is usually followed by some sort of reference to “methodology”, which I believe is the church that John Travolta belongs to. Not sure what that has to do with anything, but hey…it’s Travolta.

Then there’s stuff about intra-office coordination—such as who gets to use the good stapler and when—plus formalizing work flows…so there isn’t another embarrassing situation like when two people both brought in cakes for the Mayor’s birthday.

Throw in a snappy little flow chart that indicates a bunch of arrows chasing each other around a circle all held together by a bunch of broken chain links…and you’ve got yourself one confusing message.

But the message is so simple:

·         We know, for a lot of reasons, things weren’t running too smoothly in the past…but now, we’re committed to fixing that.

·         We’ve brought in some smart new people with fresh ideas and innovative technologies to help reorganize departments and find better ways to work together.

·         Progress has already been made in many areas, but we know there’s still much more to do to meet the needs of the community in a timely and efficient manner.

·         We’re focused and ready to take this Village well into the 21^st century and beyond.

·         That’s our goal and that’s your future.

It’s a good message… a real good message.

And everyone should be able to understand that….without a cryptologist.

Tweet Follow @FreelanceRetort

Still Alone

Z’s stills out of town but at least she’s answering her phone now.

Well…at least a guy named Esteban is answering her phone.

But he seems nice.

I guess he’s staying at Z’s sister’s house too.

He said he’d have her call me back when he got a chance.

I thought that was an odd thing to say but I let it go; folks in the Midwest talk differently than we do.

He said she was down at the spa getting a massage.

I thought that was odd too since I didn’t know Z’s sister had a spa in her house.

At least I think he said spa…it was hard to hear over the steel drums in the background.

I didn’t know Z’s sister had steel drums at her house either….

Maybe I should have come along after all…if I’d been invited.

Anyway, things have been pretty quiet and routine around here. I’ve pretty much stuck to my normal weekend routine. 

Except for the strippers.

I don’t usually have the strippers over….

….On Sunday.

Usually just Saturday.

But I don’t think I’ll be doing that again. 

I didn’t know they charged double on Sunday.

Plus they want dinner.

And they insisted on watching the Desperate Housewives finale.

So that was a mistake.

Maybe I called the wrong number.

As usual, I mowed the lawn on Saturday and apologized to my neighbor about his tulips.

Changed the sheets on the bed with my favorite Sponge Bob set that had been missing for quite a while now. For some reason they had fallen behind the furnace.

I found them when I was trying to put the top back on, which, now that I’ve done it, I’m not sure is supposed to come off in the first place.

But how else was I supposed to get the neighbor’s cat out of there.

Long story….

I also cleaned the bathroom.

I had to…you know…because of the cat.

Rinsed off the ibuprofen I spilled in the toilet.

Reorganized Z’s makeup drawer.

I don’t know how she’s able to find anything in there.

And Sunday was pretty much just more of the same boring stuff.


On Saturday night I was invited over to a friend's for a Cinco de Mayo party. 


We had pizza, which I thought was strange...we usually have ziti.


Of course when I got there everyone was disappointed that Z wasn't with me.


But they said as long as I was already there, I might as well stay.


So that was nice.

I admit it has been a little lonely around here, though.  It’s tough when there’s something missing that you're used to being there every day.

Like when a table you’re used to leaning against is suddenly not there and you find yourself falling on your…grass.

And you wonder…why is there a table on the grass?

But you also wonder when the table’s coming back…and if it’s bringing t-shirts and maybe a cap.

I think Esteban said something about Tuesday.

But, like I said, it was hard to hear over the steel drums.

But I hope so. 

I kinda miss that table.

Plus the services are good.

Saturday Special – Home Alone

It seems like I’m home alone again for the next few days.

Z’s taken off for an extended weekend.

At least I think that’s what she said.

She might have said something else…I’m not sure now.

But I think she had a pretty big suitcase with her when I dropped her off at the airport.

So that’s a bit of a clue.

On the positive side, when I got home, the couch was still in the living room, and that’s usually a good indication she means to come back.

I’m assuming that it’ll just be for a few days.

I seem to recall that there’s some sort of family thing going on, somewhere out in the Midwest; so she’s out there visiting with her family, which is nice because it means her family isn’t visiting me.

Nah…I’m kidding. They’re all nice people and pretty good tippers, so I don’t mind it when they’re here.  They even talk to me now… …and some even know my first initial. Or at least they get it on the second try when they start at the beginning of the alphabet.  If they start at the end, then it takes a while.

Being on my own also means I get to do whatever I want all weekend…if I wanted to do anything….which I kind of don’t. 

Not after last year.

But if I did, I could do it…and no one can stop me.

Last year I rearranged the wall to wall carpeting and experimented with the plumbing.

But that’s all been rectified…for the most part.

The upstairs toilet can still be hit or miss.

This year I might experiment with the plants…and possibly the driveway.

I think it would look better on the other side of the house, closer to the door; right next to my neighbor’s.  Sure, I’ll probably have to move the big maple tree some, or carve out a tunnel.  But like I said…I have the whole weekend-plus.

The oddest thing is, Z hasn’t been gone for much more than a day and already some of those weird things are starting up, all over again, like last year.

The dirty clothes aren’t getting picked up off the floor…again…let alone coming back clean and folded.

I know….

The coffee maker isn’t making coffee in the morning…again.

And last night I waited for hours before I realized there was something wrong with the dinner machine…again.

I know….

But all in all it should be a pretty nice time for both Z and me.

I just wish I could figure out how to get the bed maker started.

And the guys in the police car parked out front seem nice.

Ever since that incident with the manhole cover, we have an understanding.

They even said they’d be keeping an eye on me.

Gotta love small town hospitality.