A friend of mine invited me to join "Facebook." It sounds harmless enough and let's face it (really, no pun intended), I'm over 40 and happy to stay on the fringe of all these new social networking and texting technologies. So how bad could it be?
OH PLEASE. Now I post photos, give and accept "Flair" buttons, chat online, look for song quotes, eat online cupcakes, poke (and SuperPoke) people and might hyperventilate if I don't reach the acceptable "Lost" trivia level! (See my blog from April). And did I ever know that so many people cared about "My Lil Green Patch?!?" Well, they do!
The good news? It's great to catch up with old friends. It's neat to see a personal side of some of my favorite co-workers. I enjoy keeping in better touch with people than if I had to rely on old-fashioned letter-writing. I have fun with it and hopefully don't look like the techno-challenged geek that I really am! So if you've never tried Facebook, try it. I never thought I'd recommend anything like it. And if you're on Facebook, be sure to look me up and add me as a friend!
And BTW - the friend who invited me to Facebook, she never gets on it. It's like she gave me the drugs and then left me to deal with the addiction! Her loss, but I'll still get her for this!
Friday, September 12, 2008
Tuesday, August 5, 2008
Cukoo for Haiku!
This weekend, we stayed at a Hotel Indigo in Chicago. All of the hotel marketing materials - from the front desk to the restaurant to our room - were written as haikus. So I was inspired to create a few of my own. If you have any YOU'D like to share, please reply to this post.
Edouard, he blew in
Like a scared little sissy
Today we were spared.
Southwest Airlines Trip,
The fat lady’s to my right.
Hide your peanuts folks.
Red wine or white wine?
What is my preference tonight?
That the glass is full!
Brake lights in the front,
Merging vehicles threaten;
Commuting is Hell.
Big brown eyes longing,
Slobber slowly drips to floor.
Zach awaits dinner.
Pretty fertile soil,
Violated and pillaged;
Weeds take over beds.
Edouard, he blew in
Like a scared little sissy
Today we were spared.
Southwest Airlines Trip,
The fat lady’s to my right.
Hide your peanuts folks.
Red wine or white wine?
What is my preference tonight?
That the glass is full!
Brake lights in the front,
Merging vehicles threaten;
Commuting is Hell.
Big brown eyes longing,
Slobber slowly drips to floor.
Zach awaits dinner.
Pretty fertile soil,
Violated and pillaged;
Weeds take over beds.
Tuesday, July 15, 2008
Animals in Their Places – And NOT Nail Places
(WARNING: SOAP BOX ALERT. SOAP BOX ALERT.) I know it’s very chic and trendy to bring your pocket-sized pooch wherever you go. Purses are getting larger and dogs are getting smaller. Some purses are even being redesigned to accommodate a mobile mini-mutt. I don’t think that’s what Dylan meant when he said, “The times, they are a-changin’.”
But it’s just not my style. My dogs are large. The only purse in which they would fit would have a system of pulleys and hydraulics attached. Oh yes, and a pair of drip attachments for the slobber. And while they’re friendly, let’s face it: they really don’t want to shop unless it involves possums in the backyard. But I digress from my original rant.
I went to my nail salon for my regular mani/pedi appointment. Mary, my nail artiste, is finishing up the client before me as my feet are happily soaking in the sudsy warm water. I’m checking out that client’s nails, when all of a sudden I notice movement in her lap. A DOG. A cutie to be sure – a tee-ninesy little schnauzer. But he’s was not looking at all happy. And I see why:
1. Would you be happy if the person whose lap you were clinging to was really not a lap? It’s more like a slope. This lady was not missing many meals if you get my drift…and the poor little guy kept sliding under the manicure station.
2. Would you be happy if as you slid, you were scooped back up and smushed back into a belly covered in a terrycloth shirt? I guess it’s better than corduroy.
3. Would you be happy if you were wrapped in a “potty pad?” The plastic and cotton pads on which puppies are trained? Imagine yourself wrapped in a very large Kotex pad (with or without wings) before you answer that.
4. Would you be happy to breathe in acrylic nail dust in your very sensitive little canine nose? Try sniffing some talcum powder and it will feel similar.
5. Would you be happy as the metallic whirring of the nail dremel file was picked up by your heightened sense of canine hearing?
Would I? I’m going out on a limb here to speak for Little Schnauzy – not no, but HELL NO.
Aside from what I’m sure are plain old sanitation reasons why an animal shouldn’t be in a salon, that poor sweet little thing did not want to be there. He was NOT having a good time. But it was important for us all to see her with her precious pet. I hate it when people dress their dogs and I hate it when they’re used as accessories. A pet’s supposed to be your pal – and I would never treat MY pals that way!
But it’s just not my style. My dogs are large. The only purse in which they would fit would have a system of pulleys and hydraulics attached. Oh yes, and a pair of drip attachments for the slobber. And while they’re friendly, let’s face it: they really don’t want to shop unless it involves possums in the backyard. But I digress from my original rant.
I went to my nail salon for my regular mani/pedi appointment. Mary, my nail artiste, is finishing up the client before me as my feet are happily soaking in the sudsy warm water. I’m checking out that client’s nails, when all of a sudden I notice movement in her lap. A DOG. A cutie to be sure – a tee-ninesy little schnauzer. But he’s was not looking at all happy. And I see why:
1. Would you be happy if the person whose lap you were clinging to was really not a lap? It’s more like a slope. This lady was not missing many meals if you get my drift…and the poor little guy kept sliding under the manicure station.
2. Would you be happy if as you slid, you were scooped back up and smushed back into a belly covered in a terrycloth shirt? I guess it’s better than corduroy.
3. Would you be happy if you were wrapped in a “potty pad?” The plastic and cotton pads on which puppies are trained? Imagine yourself wrapped in a very large Kotex pad (with or without wings) before you answer that.
4. Would you be happy to breathe in acrylic nail dust in your very sensitive little canine nose? Try sniffing some talcum powder and it will feel similar.
5. Would you be happy as the metallic whirring of the nail dremel file was picked up by your heightened sense of canine hearing?
Would I? I’m going out on a limb here to speak for Little Schnauzy – not no, but HELL NO.
Aside from what I’m sure are plain old sanitation reasons why an animal shouldn’t be in a salon, that poor sweet little thing did not want to be there. He was NOT having a good time. But it was important for us all to see her with her precious pet. I hate it when people dress their dogs and I hate it when they’re used as accessories. A pet’s supposed to be your pal – and I would never treat MY pals that way!
Friday, July 11, 2008
Fins to the Left, Fins to the Right….
I have a friend at work who believes that a woman is at greater risk for becoming (cue the theme music from “Jaws”) shark bait if (1) it’s that time of the month and (2) she wears bright toenail polish. The first theory relates obviously to a shark’s natural feeding attraction (I don’t think I have to elaborate here…). The second likens the poshly pedicured tootsies to a shiny, wiggling fishing lure. Last time I was in Academy Sports and Outdoors, I didn’t see any shark lures shaped like a ladies’ size 7½ with “I’m Really not a Waitress” red toes. Hey! Maybe there’s a marketing idea in there somewhere.
I can see the points to her theories, but I am still skeptical. If anyone has scientific data or reports of shark attacks on females that can be attributed to these factors, I’d LOVE to see them. However, just to be safe, maybe I’ll leave the O-P-I off the next time I’m in the ocean…
I can see the points to her theories, but I am still skeptical. If anyone has scientific data or reports of shark attacks on females that can be attributed to these factors, I’d LOVE to see them. However, just to be safe, maybe I’ll leave the O-P-I off the next time I’m in the ocean…
Possum Holler – Part 2: What Part of “Stealth” Don’t You Two Get?
Our dogs are so sweet and so cute, but not blessed with a lot of smarts. If you read my earlier blog, you know the story of the squatting family of possums that took residence in our fence. They are long gone, but every now and then, an errant possum, rat or cat with an attitude likes to use our fence as an interstate.
It seems that our pups, “Chip the Terrible” & “Zach the Inhaler” can be inside, with appliances in operation, the TV going - and still hear a rodent or feline intruder that’s outside. At least WE think its hearing. Shades are drawn – so it’s not like they see it. Windows are closed to keep all the A/C inside for the long, hot summer – so it’s not like the smell it. It must be the sound of their tiny, pest-like claws slinking along the fence’s 2x4’s.
The goal of our Canine Caped Crusaders is, of course, to expunge the intruder and thus protect the yard. Not really – they just want to catch it and play with it. So they are at the back door like a couple of bulls - hopping front feet to back feet, salivating, tails whipping - ready to be unleashed on a tiny matador.
But one problem, Boys: BOWWOWBOWWOWBOWWOWBOWWOW. Y’all start barking loudly and uncontrollably BEFORE we let you out. The pests are pretty well clued-in by now that you’re coming. Remind me not to hire you out as robbers…you’ll call the bank first to ask them to open the vault.
It seems that our pups, “Chip the Terrible” & “Zach the Inhaler” can be inside, with appliances in operation, the TV going - and still hear a rodent or feline intruder that’s outside. At least WE think its hearing. Shades are drawn – so it’s not like they see it. Windows are closed to keep all the A/C inside for the long, hot summer – so it’s not like the smell it. It must be the sound of their tiny, pest-like claws slinking along the fence’s 2x4’s.
The goal of our Canine Caped Crusaders is, of course, to expunge the intruder and thus protect the yard. Not really – they just want to catch it and play with it. So they are at the back door like a couple of bulls - hopping front feet to back feet, salivating, tails whipping - ready to be unleashed on a tiny matador.
But one problem, Boys: BOWWOWBOWWOWBOWWOWBOWWOW. Y’all start barking loudly and uncontrollably BEFORE we let you out. The pests are pretty well clued-in by now that you’re coming. Remind me not to hire you out as robbers…you’ll call the bank first to ask them to open the vault.
Friday, June 20, 2008
A Sign I've Been In Marketing Too Long....
This morning, our staff was in a training session to become more knowledgeable about one of our web resources. The site contains great information and meeting was valuable, but the presenter was energized on something more than standard-issue caffeine. Here are a few excerpts from her presentation(home-shopping pitch):
“If you click here, we’ll provide you backgrounds from over 200 advertisers – and if you call now, we’ll send you another 200 advertisers at absolutely no charge to you!”
“The study from our partnership with Big-Time Major Research Company is located in the Market Studies channel on the site. Download one in the next 10 minutes and we’ll send you the Magic Bullet Smoothie Maker for FREE! ($29.95 shipping and handling applies)”
“You like all this information, but you don’t have the time to create a presentation? We do it for you! Just click here and you can customize your sales sheet right from your CrackBerry. If you log in now, we’ll send you the entire CD set, How to Make Gazillions on e-Bay - completely free. AND if you type in keyword, ‘Please Pass the Valium,’ we’ll include a copy of the first season of WKRP in Cincinnati on VHS.”
Gotta run – if I log in now, there’s a Bedazzler with my name on it! Yee Haw!
“If you click here, we’ll provide you backgrounds from over 200 advertisers – and if you call now, we’ll send you another 200 advertisers at absolutely no charge to you!”
“The study from our partnership with Big-Time Major Research Company is located in the Market Studies channel on the site. Download one in the next 10 minutes and we’ll send you the Magic Bullet Smoothie Maker for FREE! ($29.95 shipping and handling applies)”
“You like all this information, but you don’t have the time to create a presentation? We do it for you! Just click here and you can customize your sales sheet right from your CrackBerry. If you log in now, we’ll send you the entire CD set, How to Make Gazillions on e-Bay - completely free. AND if you type in keyword, ‘Please Pass the Valium,’ we’ll include a copy of the first season of WKRP in Cincinnati on VHS.”
Gotta run – if I log in now, there’s a Bedazzler with my name on it! Yee Haw!
Tuesday, June 10, 2008
Bubba Day At the Beach
Blue-collar comedian Bill Engvall is best-known for his schtick, “Here’s your sign” – telling a funny story about the stupidity of a person or persons in certain situations that warrant them being labeled with a “stupid” sign. This weekend, Galveston Island offered up its latest candidate with an event worthy of the Blue Collar Comedy Tour:
A beautiful Saturday afternoon. Blue breezy skies. Almost-sandy beaches (somewhere between the clumps of seaweed) with waves persistently flogging the shore. A family paradise.
Picture a brand-new Ford F-150 pick-up truck. Definitely a boy’s toy. Shiny red – almost as red as its un-sunscreened owners are at this point. Our vantage point for this little drama is the balcony of my friend’s rented beach house.
This truck has brought the family – or at least the male contingent – to the beach for a little fun in the sun. Dad, buddy and son, frolicking in the ocean. Attached to the back of the truck, in addition to the obligatory cooler now half-full of Miller Lite, is a trailer. In the shallow breaking waves is a Sea-Doo watercraft – with the son hovering to ride it onto the trailer, thus allowing our heroes to head home.
This all seems normal, right? WRONG.
Bubba backs the truck up to the shore’s waveline where the trailer awaits partially submerged. Like a ranch-hand breaking a new colt, Baby Bubba revs the Sea-Doo and positions it in place on the trailer. Cheering ensues and there’s lots of high-fiving and back-slapping. Bubba and Buddy Bubba celebrate Baby Bubba’s rite of passage with a cold beer from the cooler. Let’s call Mama right now….
But wait – cue the theme music from “Jaws.” The truck and trailer are not moving, but the tide is. Closer and higher. Oh yeah – and the tires are going deeper into the sandy shore. Boys, you’re about to go Captain Nemo on us. Apparently, our Bubba Trio notices this as well but they are somewhat flustered as to what they do next. What are their options?
1) There are other large vehicles around them, but (a) no one is offering help and (b) they aren’t asking.
2) Tow rope? What tow rope? What’s a tow rope?
3) Call someone? Not yet – the water’s not near close enough.
4) Crack open another couple of cold ones? Apparently this makes sense to them because they do.
As the corrosive salt water laps the undercarriage of the F-150, Bubba grabs the cell phone and finally makes a call. As the water finds its way into the bottoms of the truck cab doors, an enormous wrecker shows up, driven by an enormous man with an enormous “open your checkbook, suckah” smile on his face. They attach the hydraulic wench to the potential U-Boat and gradually pull it out to safety – with an array of beach goers and house-renters all applauding, thumb-upping and whistling. Our Bubba Trio acknowledges and apparently basks in the adulation, sad only because no one got it on tape for “America’s Funniest Home Videos.”
In the words of Bill Engvall, “Here’s your Sign…”
A beautiful Saturday afternoon. Blue breezy skies. Almost-sandy beaches (somewhere between the clumps of seaweed) with waves persistently flogging the shore. A family paradise.
Picture a brand-new Ford F-150 pick-up truck. Definitely a boy’s toy. Shiny red – almost as red as its un-sunscreened owners are at this point. Our vantage point for this little drama is the balcony of my friend’s rented beach house.
This truck has brought the family – or at least the male contingent – to the beach for a little fun in the sun. Dad, buddy and son, frolicking in the ocean. Attached to the back of the truck, in addition to the obligatory cooler now half-full of Miller Lite, is a trailer. In the shallow breaking waves is a Sea-Doo watercraft – with the son hovering to ride it onto the trailer, thus allowing our heroes to head home.
This all seems normal, right? WRONG.
Bubba backs the truck up to the shore’s waveline where the trailer awaits partially submerged. Like a ranch-hand breaking a new colt, Baby Bubba revs the Sea-Doo and positions it in place on the trailer. Cheering ensues and there’s lots of high-fiving and back-slapping. Bubba and Buddy Bubba celebrate Baby Bubba’s rite of passage with a cold beer from the cooler. Let’s call Mama right now….
But wait – cue the theme music from “Jaws.” The truck and trailer are not moving, but the tide is. Closer and higher. Oh yeah – and the tires are going deeper into the sandy shore. Boys, you’re about to go Captain Nemo on us. Apparently, our Bubba Trio notices this as well but they are somewhat flustered as to what they do next. What are their options?
1) There are other large vehicles around them, but (a) no one is offering help and (b) they aren’t asking.
2) Tow rope? What tow rope? What’s a tow rope?
3) Call someone? Not yet – the water’s not near close enough.
4) Crack open another couple of cold ones? Apparently this makes sense to them because they do.
As the corrosive salt water laps the undercarriage of the F-150, Bubba grabs the cell phone and finally makes a call. As the water finds its way into the bottoms of the truck cab doors, an enormous wrecker shows up, driven by an enormous man with an enormous “open your checkbook, suckah” smile on his face. They attach the hydraulic wench to the potential U-Boat and gradually pull it out to safety – with an array of beach goers and house-renters all applauding, thumb-upping and whistling. Our Bubba Trio acknowledges and apparently basks in the adulation, sad only because no one got it on tape for “America’s Funniest Home Videos.”
In the words of Bill Engvall, “Here’s your Sign…”
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