Day 22 - Confusing Marketing

Marketing departments spend many hours grappling over packaging design to make sure that their product catches your eye.  They develop a catch phrase that they hope will positively affect your purchasing decision; five words or less in which they can convince you that you cannot live without this item.  Lately I’ve spotted some of these phrases that make me think ‘many hours’ is being generous, and that perhaps they didn’t grapple so much as have an early morning epiphany that really should have been rethought once the veil of sleepiness had worn off.

For example, Brut Cologne declares proudly, “It smells like a man.”  This seems like a self-defeating slogan to me.  The fact that he smells like a man is the very reason I am attempting to purchase cologne.  So that he smells good, and no longer like a man.

Today in the store, there was a giant sign hanging over some cleaning products with the enticing phrase, “As Seen on TV.”  How is this a selling point?  I see lots of things on TV, most of which I don’t want happening in my home.  Hurricane Irene has dominated the airwaves for days, but I don’t think it’s a clever marketing reference for ceiling fans.  Or even generators.

I saw a bag of potato chips that displayed proudly, “New Bag Size.”  Does that mean it’s bigger, or smaller? I didn’t have one of the old bags with me for comparison.  Not that it would have mattered.  They didn’t claim to be supplying me with more chips…just a different sized bag.  For all I could tell, they meant that they had made the bag larger for my gripping convenience.  Or maybe they made it smaller so that the usual large empty chasm of bag at the top of my chips was eliminated.  Either way, it did not entice me to shell out the three dollars and ninety nine cents.

And I saw a book on the stands that touted, “First Time in Print.”  At some point, that’s all of the books.  Was there really not one thing within that book that they found interesting?  Of all of the things that they could think of to sell me on reading this novel, they settled for ‘We’ve Put It On Paper Now.’  What was it before it was in print that they feel ‘in print’ is an improvement?  I suppose the convenience of not having to call the author and get a blow by blow of his story idea is a plus, but I wasn’t aware that this was an option.  Perhaps I’m shopping wrong.

I spotted this slogan on a can of Campbell’s soup: “Great for Cooking.”  Well, it’s soup.  I think most people already figured out that it’s great for cooking.  In fact, it’s any other use that has me stumped.  Maybe they should list THOSE things.  “Great for Pipe Bomb Making.”  NOW you’ve got my attention.

And on the packaging of my baby food, it says “Good for Babies.”  Same problem.  I already knew that use.  It’s conveniently right in the name…BABY food.  But I suppose I’m glad that it is food that is good for my baby since I will be feeding it to him.  I mean, it’s not called ‘good-for-baby food’, so I appreciate the reassurance.  Maybe the ‘not-good-for-baby baby food’ product is in a section of the store that I have overlooked.  I’ll be more careful from now on.

Day 21 - Diseased Family

As a new mother, visits to the doctor are frequent. He has scheduled visits every six weeks, and he has unscheduled visits every time I think that something might be going horribly wrong such as a change in eating habits, sleeping patterns, or a whimper that didn't sound exactly like his last whimper. And while I realize that the fact that the receptionist at the doctor's office recognizes my voice without the aid of caller ID might be a warning sign of overkill, I simply don't care. I am that mother.

Also as a new mother, I am inexplicably paranoid about things that may be germ-ridden coming into contact with my son. I don't boil his pacifier every time it hits a surface other than his mouth, but I also don't deny myself the urge to keep his environment a little bit sterile. Since doctor's offices are riddled with sick people, I usually pick a seat as far away from others as possible. At today's appointment, after I was seated with the baby in my lap, a woman plopped down in the seat next to me and began parenting her two unruly children from the safety of her seat. “Isaac, stop that.” He didn't. “Ruth, honey, don't.” She did. Given the woman's overly voluptuous situation, I was fairly certain that she was not about to stand up to control her children. Or escape a fire. But the children were destroying the office at a safe distance from my baby, so I was satisfied to listen to her ineffectual demands. Especially when they ineffectually 'came here now'.

Eventually though, as children will do, they discovered that there was a baby and came over to touch him. Luckily, the armchair mom also recognized what her little incubators were about to do and explained to them that they could not touch the baby because they were sick. She put a super-plus sized arm-barrier between the baby and the children. I was uncomfortable about her arm being in my lap, but was more uncomfortable with her kids wiping their snot on my baby, so I didn't complain. The children backed off and went over to stand on the other side of Mommy when the little girl noticed something in Mommy's mouth. “I want a piece of your candy,” the girl understandably demanded. “It's not candy, honey. Mommy has a sore throat.”

Are you kidding me?

Day 20 - HypnoWhat?

I read an interesting article in the news today. Not interesting as in informative, but interesting in the way an exotic animal is interesting, in which you stare at it trying to identify its strange parts. Apparently, there is a new birthing philosophy called HypnoBirthing. To start, they have changed the names of all of the painful aspects of birth. Labor is called birthing, contractions are called surges, and pain is called pressure. I am flummoxed by this country's obsession with changing the names of things to make them sound better. Shakespeare said “A rose by any other name would smell as sweet” in the 1500s. Who are these people sitting around saying, “So true. But let's call it a floral firework instead anyway because that War of the Roses thing really ruined the name”? Labor hurts, even if you call it birthing. And in my hospital room, we called the whole thing birthing. Know why? Because it was already called that. And contractions, the most painful aspect of birthing, are painful no matter what you call them. In fact, if anyone had insisted that I refer to the pain wrenching my body as a surge, I would have been looking for something to hurl across the room. Not to mention that 'surge' is something I try to protect my computer from, not something I want to imagine my body doing. And calling the pain 'pressure' is really just being more specific. It's really painful pressure. According to the article, changing the names helps in retraining the mind so as to lead to a state of self-hypnosis. I've never been hypnotized, but I'm fairly certain that trying to remember new names for stuff I already know the name for is not the way to get me there.

Know what did take away the pain/pressure during my labor/birthing? An epidural. So, while reading this article, I assumed that these women were taking vocabulary lessons as a substitute for the happy shot. Not so. Apparently, they also have epidurals. So clearly I'm missing something here, and I think what I'm missing is the point. If you've never had a child, I can tell you that there is plenty of information that is more worthy of study and discussion than what you are going to call the various stages of pain during delivery. Like how to feed your child, for example. If you're about to go into labor and you don't know what latching is yet, go ahead and learn THAT vocabulary. That way, when your doctor says, “Is he latching?” you have an answer besides, “I don't know...but there is pressure.”

The article also has a bit of a disclaimer in it. “It does not promise pain-free childbirth.” Really? Even if you learn the vocabulary really, really well? That's disappointing. It seemed like such a promising development.

The article went on to say that the birthing method has gained popularity because of its usage by celebrities. Well, that explains a lot. I wouldn't say that there are not intelligent celebrities, but assuming intelligence based on fame is another aspect of people that baffles me. If there is one thing I don't want celebrity advice on, it's everything I do. No matter what I call it.

Day 19 - In the News

My brother once told me that the difference between an adventure and a vacation is that a vacation is fun while it is happening, but an adventure is fun to talk about later. I see the same distinction in wit versus stupidity. One particularly adventuresome time during my day is during the evening news. And although each time I sit down to watch, I never know what new tidbits I'll be able to make fun of later, there are certain consistencies in stupidity that I have come to rely on.


To start, the words 'should', 'might', and 'could' have no place in journalism, yet they are used generously. “This law could set the civil rights movement back by thirty years.” How incredibly vague and completely impossible to measure. Are there really people sitting around nodding their heads at statements like that? “You know, since the facts he just gave us don't support that conclusion at all, I never would have made that connection. But he may be on to something there. It just could!” I may not have a lot of faith in the intelligence of the general population, but I completely trust in their ability to speculate and overreact all on their own. They don't need media assistance with that particular attribute.

Another word that pops up during the news is 'clearly'. I don't need things pointed out to me that are clear. No one does. That's what the word means. But they are never really using it to point out things that are clear anyway. They use is as a substitute for saying, “If you don't agree with my opinion, this should be evidence that I am right.” It's a sneaky way of being condescending while sounding supportive. “This law is clearly designed to set the civil rights movement back by thirty years.”

A phrase that also gets a lot of use is 'made history'. First of all, it's an annoying phrase since everything that happens is, by definition, making history. But in context, they are trying to add importance to certain events by deeming them historical. Not everything that happens is going to make the history books. Stop pretending it is just because you think it's neat.

Something that I have heard more and more often lately is that the experts are surprised, amazed, or in some way completely taken aback by an event. How is that? Maybe they need new experts. Ones that have enough of a grasp on the situation that they are not constantly astounded by the outcome. Or maybe they should just stop calling them experts. They could be experts-in-training. When they stop being surprised by how things turn out, then they are experts.

Also, I have grown weary of the recaps of various speeches, particularly when the speech is aired immediately proceeding the recap. What is the purpose of recapping something everyone just listened to? If they are concerned with the public's inability to decipher the language, then perhaps they should rethink their usage of valuable air time. While the speech is actually occurring, maybe an infomercial would make a good filler in their scheduling. And what is worse, they don't give a blow by blow paraphrasing of the speech...they interpret it for us. Usually to a degree which leaves me unable to recognize the original speech. And with an overabundance of the word 'clearly'.

Day 18 - Weird History Part I

I watched a news story today about the rebuilding of Haiti, and was, once again, struck by the extreme poverty. I don't know a whole lot about the history of Haiti, but I do know that they were under control of the French, and in an amazing slave revolt, the people were able to defeat the French and claim ownership of their own land. I even heard on one news program that the reason that Napoleon sold Thomas Jefferson the Louisiana Purchase at such a low rate was because this devastating revolution in Haiti caused him to want to withdraw from the hemisphere altogether. Now that's a victory. A large part of the poverty problem, however, comes from what happened after that revolution. France demanded retribution for property damage caused by the war.

What I want to know is, who was the sales genius from France that sold that idea? Haiti won the war. Hands down. Yet somehow, someone convinced the victors that they had to pay an exorbitant amount of money to the losers. What could they possibly have threatened them with? “If you don't pay up, we will lose a war with you again.” Did it really not occur to anyone to say no? Granted, the people had been slaves, and were uneducated. They probably had not spent a lot of time brushing up on their negotiation skills. Still, they obviously were aware of what unfair treatment entails. They won a war to prove it.

Even if the erstwhile slaves had not been able to find a way not to pay this money to the intimidating French, why did they continue to pay year after year after year? The debt was not paid until 1947...over 100 years later. Surely during that time someone must have thought, “You know what? This sucks.”

Next time the French criticize the US for foreign policy, someone ought to remind them of the population that they brought to its knees simply because they could.

Day 17 - Right of Way

When I went to the grocery store today, I only needed one item, so instead of joining the flowing mass of customers heading straight back toward the produce, I rebelled and cut across the front of the store near the cash registers. An oncoming woman with a full grocery cart turned her cart directly in front of me, looked at me as if startled, and stopped. Then she glared at me and continued to get into line, clearing up the path in front of me. So I had to wonder, who had the right of way in this situation? Generally, when walking, I assume that standard driving rules apply, and that I have a right to be offended and judgmental when others do not follow these guidelines. We walk on the right-hand side of the aisle or hallway, and if we are turning, we don't do it in front of people lest they walk into us. But she had clearly been thrown by my presence there. Did not following standard produce-first grocery protocol equate to something akin to turning the wrong way down a one-way street? The area in which I was walking was clearly wide enough for bi-directional walking, but was I the only one daft enough to think that roominess equals justifiability?


I decided to experiment a little bit with my new-found grocery etiquette knowledge, and walked directly to the back of the store. I then walked the exact opposite direction down the back of the store, and up the front again. Luckily, I escaped without injury. I am, however, slightly concerned with my right to shop in that store again. I have also begun to question the validity of motor-powered shopping carts.

Clearly, there are exceptions to the 'walk like you are driving' scenario I so wrongly assumed we all follow. But then, I should have recognized the signs long ago. After all, in my past I have fallen victim to those people who congregate in a hallway and refuse to move no matter what is coming toward them. I have seen first-hand the tendency of two people walking side-by-side refuse hallway passage to the person walking solo in the opposite direction. And then there are the doorway lingerers...those seemingly destination-bound people who suddenly find themselves unable to continue through a doorway due to the massively important realization that they may not actually need to go in that direction after all. And, of course, the door lingerers are usually spotted by the people who already are, or desire to be, the people who congregate in the hallway. In the end, I suppose it isn't any wonder that these people who do not know how to walk down a hallway and through a door become confused and territorial when trying to navigate the complexity of a supermarket.

Day 16 - Random Stupid

Sometimes I come across really funny examples of stupidity, but I can't write about them because they are funny all on their own. No explanation or discourse is needed. But I've jotted some of them down for you.

I was watching a reality show in which a couple took a special trip to Hollywood and they were visiting an area where many Hollywood stars had put their footprints in cement. The couple kept standing in the famous footprints stating, “He had big feet...oh, he has big feet” over and over again. The couple were dwarfs.

I saw this sign on the door of a construction site: “Caution! Do Not Enter! Push to open.”

An anchorwoman on the evening news did this bizarre math: “This warehouse is designed to house a million books, but with an estimated 150 million books having been written, they will need dozens of these warehouses to complete their project.”

My mother-in-law went through the drive-through at McDonald's and a voice asked her if she would like to try their new strawberry smoothie. She said she would. The employee replied, “I'm sorry, we're out of those.”

I bought a gift card with the denomination printed clearly on the front of the card and the cashier handed me a gift receipt. “What's this for?” I asked. “It's for you to give to the person you're buying this for and they won't know how much you spent unless they go to return it.”

Day 15 - Weird Food

Today, I grabbed a can of mixed nuts to snack on, and as I was eating them, I noted that whenever you buy a can of mixed nuts, cashews are a standard component. However, if you buy mixed nuts still in the shell, the cashews are mysteriously unaccounted for. I was reasonably certain that this discrepancy was not the result of a bizarre nut conspiracy, so I looked up cashew harvesting online. Turns out, cashews are a hard nut to crack, so to speak. There is not one shell, but two, one of which must be boiled off, and in between the two shells is a toxic liquid which causes a rash similar to poison ivy. The toxin is destroyed when the cashews are roasted, but the resulting smoke is fatal if inhaled. So my question is, just how hungry was the person who figured all that out? I'm fairly certain that even if my food choices were extremely limited, at some point I would have been deterred from this particular dining experience. Most likely when I couldn't get the first problematic shell off, I would have opted for the nearby berries instead. But not this guy. He rallied through all of these obstacles, finding inventive ways of getting through both shells, ignoring the itchy blisters on his hands and down his throat, and even sacrificing friends who forgot to hold their breath during the roasting process. All in the name of pallet variety.

There are other things that we ingest that the origins intrigue me. Oysters, for example. I love oysters, but someone else had to convince me to try them first. Part of the argument my friend used to get me to try them was that she had not wanted to try them at first either, but someone else had convinced her and now she loved them. Who was the first person who did not need to be convinced? Who popped open that shell, saw the mucous-looking grey blob inside and said, “Now that looks like dinner”?

Some food confuses me just because of how many steps it takes to get it to an edible state. Next time you're in the grocery store, take a look at the price of a can of fava beans. They are about three times more expensive than any other bean. Know why? Because if you bought them dried and tried to prepare them yourself, you would never eat them again. Each little bean has a shell that has to be individually removed. I can't imagine the first woman preparing these beans NOT getting pissed off at her husband. “Remember those beans you found last year that didn't have shells on them? Get those again next time.”

Bread is a food with a lot of steps that always has me guessing, too. Have you ever made bread? There are a lot of very specific steps to go through in order to get a decent finished product. Yet every single society independently came up with a recipe for some kind of bread. It makes you wonder if there wasn't some Johnny Appleseed equivalent wandering around with a recipe and a bowl of yeast.

And then there are the lobsters. Like the oyster, I wonder who gazed upon this beady-eyed, claw-wielding creature and deemed it food. But at least with oysters, I can imagine that someone spotted a bird eating one or some similar scenario where sustenance would occur to him. But I doubt there was a bird perched atop a lobster having a snack when a hungry human happened by. Lobsters do not hang out seaside. They don't crawl up onto the shore at all. Did someone run out of food and decide to drag the bottom of the ocean to see what came up?

And, of course, blow-fish are a big question mark. You can only cut that fish one way and survive its digestion. How many ways did they try it to figure out the right way? And why wasn't there some voice of reason chiming in? “Hey, guys, that's the fifth death this week. Maybe we should skip this fish.”

Day 14 - On the Road

I see a lot of stupid stuff while driving around and today was no exception. After spotting two dumb bumper stickers and a dubious sign, I decided to share the ones I saw today, along with ones I've scoffed at in the past.

Bumper Stickers:

“My child is an honor student”. If your kid is so smart, maybe she should have told you that slapping that sticker on your car doubles the depreciation rate.

“It’s a person, not a criminal.” All criminals are people. If you break the law, then you’re a criminal. Even if you’re a person.

“Jesus didn’t heal for profit.” I actually had to ask around to try to figure out what these people are against. Doctors making a profit? Insurance companies making a profit? Anyone who makes a profit? I’m still not really sure what they are trying to say except that somehow making money makes me less like Jesus. You know what else makes me less like Jesus? Having a house.

“My child is a good citizen. Washington Middle School.” I don't even know what that means. Your kid is in middle school. He doesn't vote, he doesn't pay taxes. Quite frankly, he's still a drain on the system. Did he learn his state capitals and get declared a good citizen by way of bumper sticker? I think we all know what it really means. Your kid didn't make honor roll.

Signs: “Please step forward”. This was at a rest stop over the urinal in a unisex bathroom. I'm guessing it was at the request of a female patron or two.

“Do Not Mow”. I noticed this in the grass on the side of the highway. I wonder if anyone has been penalized for breaking this rule. This is a rogue group of criminals that I have not yet spotted lurking around. And you would think they would stand out. You know, what with having to push that mower around.

“Vending Machines Open 24 Hours”. This seems to be a pretty redundant selling point. And it makes me wonder, how does one close a vending machine, exactly? I mean, if by some chance you went to a vending machine after hours, couldn't you just plug it back in?

Day 13 - Eggies

I saw a commercial today for a product called Eggies. It's a plastic container much like those Tupperware trays that you pour Kool-Aid into and freeze to make popsicles, except the purpose of this product is to use while hard boiling eggs. I laughed at first because, unlike Kool-Aid, eggs already come in a container that you can hard boil them in. The shell. But then the commercial explained that part. Apparently, there is a large segment of the population that cannot get the shell off of a hard-boiled egg without tearing the egg into bits. I didn't realize this was an ongoing problem because I solved that issue by watching a cooking show when I was ten.

To further add to my amusement, the commercial went on to show elegant egg-centric dishes that I am sure could not be accomplished by someone who never mastered the task of peeling an egg. After all, these dishes involved other difficult tasks such as chopping an onion. Come to think of it, I recently saw a commercial for a product that chops onions for you, so I suppose those people just have to stay tuned a little longer to get all of their culinary needs. But they would not have to wait any longer for a product to chop the eggs for them, because an egg chopper was included in the price of the Eggies. Which was ten dollars. And they throw in a second one for free. At that price, it really doesn't matter that after you try it once it simply takes up cabinet space until your next yard sale, because after you try it once, I suspect you'll be throwing the pieces away.

At the end of the commercial, they tried to tell me what this product was valued at. For two minutes I listened to how original this product is, so what is it they are comparing it to exactly? If no one has ever bought this product or anything like it before, then the only person who has given it a value so far is the manufacturer. Who valued it at ten dollars. For two of them. Plus an egg chopper.

Day 12 - Flavored Pops

I am the proud new owner of 100 flavored ice pops. Not because I really need that many, but because I spotted something stupid on the box label, and then something else, and by the third stupid thing I was already calculating whether I had enough change in my wallet to bring this treasure trove home with me.

The first thing that caught my eye was that they were pasteurized. I did a mental rundown of the ingredients. Water, sugar, flavor, color. Nope...no milk or eggs. However, since my English degree leaves me qualified in very few of the science disciplines, I started to concede that maybe this makes sense to someone when I noticed that beneath “Naturally and Artificially Flavored” it proclaimed “A Quiescently Frozen Confection.” Something my English degree does qualify me in is words, and I had no idea what 'quiescently' meant. I was also fairly certain that the majority of people purchasing flavored liquid in a tube were in the dark as well. So I looked it up. It means that the liquid is not agitated during the freezing process. Since these 'confections' are sold not in the freezer section, but rather on a shelf, I think they'll have a tough time backing that claim up. Once they are in the privacy of my own freezer, I feel entitled to agitate them all I want. More importantly, of the three things they felt were most important to convey about their product, two of them confused the hell out of me.

Next, I noticed that there were 100 pops, and each pop was one ounce, or 28.3 grams, and that the net weight was six pounds four ounces, or 2.8 kilograms. This seems like an excessive amount of weight information. Do I really need to know five different ways to express how much stuff is in this box? In contrast, before a list of six flavors was a disclaimer. “May or may not contain the following flavors”. So it may not contain any of those flavors? Why did they stop at six? I mean, if they were really trying to sell it, list 20 or 30 flavors that may not be in the box. And flavor content seems like much more vital information than unit conversion. In fact, of all of the information on this box, what flavors I am buying stands out as the most important component in my purchasing decision. Instead, they provide me with an overabundance of weight calculations, and confusing product attributes. Of course, I did buy the box. Now who's stupid?

Day 11 - At the Grocery Part Two

Lots of stuff in the grocery store is flavored like other stuff. Grape flavored drinks, onion flavored potato chips, even Kahlua flavored coffee, which actually has me a bit thrown because isn't Kahlua a coffee flavored liquor? Why would you flavor your real coffee with artificial coffee flavor? Which brings me to today's grocery store find. I spotted a couple of products that instead of being flavored like actual things, are flavored like other flavored things.

First, I noticed a bottle labeled “chocolate syrup flavored”. If you didn't giggle, then read that again. This manufacturer of culinary delights is not claiming to have created a chocolate flavored syrup. They are claiming that their product is flavored to taste like chocolate syrup which is flavored like chocolate. It's like chocolate twice removed. And what exactly is it that they have flavored? I suppose chocolate syrup is no less vague on that issue, but at least they have named what is in the bottle. It's syrup. This product just sort of skipped over that part and hoped no one would notice.

I also spotted a bag of imitation chocolate chip flavored cookies. According to that label, these are not chocolate chip cookies, or even imitation chocolate chip cookies (which I'm sure is what they meant, though I quiver to think what artificial chocolate chips are made from). No, according to the label, these are cookies that have been made to taste as close to an imitation chocolate chip as they can muster. Now that's aiming low. Very little room for failure in that scenario. “These don't taste like chocolate chips.” “No, no. Read the label. They taste like imitation chocolate chips.” Who is going to argue that point? Like you've had better imitation chocolate chips?

I noticed that both of these things were chocolate, so it makes me wonder if there isn't some chocolate naming regulation or restriction that inspires people who are normally able to speak English into people who are not. Or maybe I should go back and check the label to see in what country they are made. Perhaps they simply are not people who are normally able to speak English. Probably I'll just stick to actual chocolate products and let it go.

Day 10 - Recipes

Today, while in a rush, I threw together the ingredients for what I intended to be cornbread. I say intended to be cornbread because in my hurry, I forgot to add cornmeal which, as it turns out, is a pretty vital ingredient in cornbread. I didn't realize the error until I sliced into the non-cornbread and noticed a distinct lack of corn color. I ate it anyway. It wasn't horrible, but it was stupid, so I decided to make myself the subject of today's stupidity. However, I rarely go down without dragging someone else along with me, so I figured today would be like a Reader's Digest Life in These United States blurb in which I throw in a few culinary mishaps of people who, until today, were my friends.
When I met Karla, her diet consisted mostly of Pop Tarts and pasta with processed Parmesan cheese, and she had little interest in expanding her repertoire. But she fell in love and got married, and her new husband expressed an interest in a diet consisting of more than two items. She dutifully accommodated, and after a few years even bought a rotisserie. Upon presenting her beloved with a perfectly cooked chicken, he took a bite and spit it out. “Is it cooked?” he asked. “Yes.” “Why is it so wet?” Unlike the chickens she had cooked for him over previous years, this chicken was moist.

Jill's husband loves pot pie. As a treat, she decided to make pot pies from scratch. She searched for the perfect recipe and followed it to the letter, but the finished product yielded a watery sauce that had an odd flavor that no one could quite pinpoint. Finally, her husband asked to see the recipe and noticed that it called for heavy whipping cream. Realizing what the odd flavor was, he asked to see the container. Nonplussed, she presented him with the remainder of a tub of Cool Whip.

So now that I've thrown my friends under the bus, I'll be back to my regular format tomorrow.

Day 9 - Bathtubs and Erections

If the advertisements aired during a program are a correct indication of market demographics, then the television evening news audience consists of a bunch of asthma-ridden, bladder-control-issue suffering, erectile dysfunctional people. And those of us who are NOT Baby Boomers get to enjoy the ridiculous commercials that have the pharmaceutical solutions to these problems.

I particularly like the Cialis commercials. If you get your news on the internet, or record it and forward through the commercials, or use any number of other technological advances that eliminate you from this demographic, you may have missed this piece of marketing genius in which a couple is shown in several romantic settings such as a field of flowers, or lakeside during a majestic sunset, holding hands from their separate Victorian bathtubs. The first time I saw one of these commercials, I thought that I had misunderstood what the product was. After all, it's a large leap from separate bathtubs to happy sex life. Particularly separate bathtubs in a random and possibly public setting. If a man were to ask me to help him drag a couple of bathtubs out into the woods, it really wouldn't matter if he were able to perform or not.

I also like the part of the commercial where it tells you to check with your doctor to make sure you are healthy enough for sexual activity. The doctors know what this drug does when they prescribe it, right? Is it really necessary to remind them only to prescribe items that won't kill their patients? “Oh, that's right! You have that pesky heart thing going on. Give me that prescription back.”

And the best part of the commercial is at the very end, when they suggest you look for their ad in Golf Digest magazine. Do a lot of people take them up on that? Wasn't sitting through the commercial on television bad enough? Who is really going to go take a jaunt to the store to see what else they have to say?

Day 8 - Infomercial Stars

Years ago I spotted a picture of Steven Tyler in a teen magazine with the following caption: “Steven Tyler, Liv Tyler's father, spotted backstage.” Granted, this was pre-American Idol days and his teen-magazine-reading audience was probably more limited than it is now, but I bet he still got a kick out of the fact that the editors felt he was not recognizable enough on his own.  

Today while making a quick run down the cleaning product aisle of the grocery store, I saw two separate cardboard cutouts of infomercial personalities with their names printed on the signs, devoid of any kind of qualifier. Not even an “As seen on TV” distinction. So I had to wonder: are infomercial stars now so famous that they are instantly recognized by name? Is it really possible that more people know who Anthony Sullivan is than Steven Tyler? I have long been under the impression that infomercials were where bad actors went to die. Not so. Apparently, this is a career goal. Once again, my Guidance Counselor missed the boat on this one.

Remember the days when cardboard cutouts were something you sought to have in your dorm room? It used to be that the honor of your image being rendered on a 2-dimensional life-sized stand-up was reserved for attractive movie stars, hunky athletes, and anonymous bikini-clad women. I'm not waxing nostalgic for a six foot tall woman in a bikini per se, I'm just saying that cardboard cutout images should be worthy of theft by rogue frat boys and drunken co-eds. And under no circumstance should they feature a mop.

When Billy Mays died, I remember thinking that it was odd how famous he was. But then, he was in an awful lot of commercials. And besides, everyone who is even slightly famous gets more famous when they die. But then the Shamwow guy (I don't know his name, but I'm sure plenty of you do) got arrested, and everyone knew about it. Suddenly infomercial personality was a category of fame. And now this cardboard cutout nonsense. Scavenger hunts will never be the same again.

Day 7 - So Say The Children

People are very concerned about America’s youth scoring low on standardized testing and not measuring up to children in other countries, and the brunt of the blame for this falls on the shoulders of our educational system. But I have my own theory. I’m convinced that it has something to do with well-meaning parents refusing to let their kids speak for themselves.

Today, for example, while visiting a friend, I noticed that her 4-year-old had a band-aid on her leg. “What did you do to your leg?” I asked the girl. “She scratched it,” supplied Mom. Ignoring Mom, I asked the girl, “How did you do that?” Again, Mom quickly chimed in, “On a stick in the yard.” Once again, addressing the girl I asked, “Did it bleed?” and, of course, Mom answered for her and told me that it had, but just a little. I turned to my friend and said, “You know I’m not actually trying to diagnose her problem here, right?” The truth is that I had very little interest in what the girl did to her leg. Kids have cuts and scrapes all the time and the story behind them is rarely interesting. There are only so many times you can hear, “He fell down” before it looses its magic. Unless the child is telling the story. That’s the interesting part.

I have a brother who lets his kids speak and interesting and funny stuff comes out of their mouths all the time. When his daughter was four and cut her leg, I asked her the same question. “Did it bleed?” She sighed and said, “Aunt Michelle, it’s just a little blood. You wipe it off and you go on.” Now THAT’s funny.

So why do parents think that they have to come to the rescue every time I ask their child a question? There is not a lot of information that I can glean from a 3-year-old that is going to enhance my life. It’s how they answer the question that will do that for me. I know that some of the questions I ask are too hard for them. Those are the funniest answers. Did you learn nothing from Bill Cosby? And I don’t need you to explain their answers to me. If your little one tells me that her favorite color is lemonade, you don’t need to tell me that she means pink lemonade because she likes pink. I’m not planning a shopping spree for her. I may ask her for further clarification, or I may let it remain ambiguous in my head. Could be yellow…could be pink…could mean she doesn’t know any colors yet. The real answer doesn’t change my day. I like the lemonade answer just fine. As a parent, you need to just let the answer ride.

Day 6 - Literally

According to my mother, I've been correcting people's grammar since I was three years old.  I completely believe that to be true.  Eventually, I made a real effort not to do that because at some point, I figured I'd want to stop running off my dates.  But there are still some misused and overused words that get under my skin.  The word 'literally' is at the top of this list (not literally) and it is both misused and overused.  Today I heard it misused by a news anchorman.  That’s just adding insult to injury, in my opinion.  There are enough problems with our media already without  adding lack of grammar to the mix. 

First, let me explain how it should be used for those of you who aren't sure because believe me, there are a lot of you out there.  The word means that what you are saying is without exaggeration or inaccuracy.  Therefore, you may want to use it when what you are saying may sound far-fetched.  For example, if an athletic person was telling the story of how he was in a hurry and ran a mile home in seven minutes, people would believe he did that without further clarification.  If I were to tell the same story, I would have to qualify that 7 minutes with ‘literally’.

You can also use it for clarification when it is possible that the sentence that you are using might easily be taken figuratively.  For example, if you were to say, “I stole her heart,” most of us would assume you meant that she fell in love with you.  If what you really meant was that you have her heart in a decorative box on your mantle, you would clarify that by using ‘literally’.

Literally is not a word which conveys emphasis on an exaggeration.  “He was literally 30 feet tall.”  No he wasn’t.  I know he wasn’t.  What I DON’T know is anything you said after that because I’m still stuck on that sentence trying to figure out if YOU know it.

It also does not need to be used when it is obvious that you are being literal.  “I am literally exhausted.”  I know what exhausted means.  Everyone knows what exhausted means.  There is no figurative translation of exhausted.  The word you are looking for is not ‘literally’.  It is ‘very’.  I know it doesn’t seem to sound as intellectual, but if you are speaking to intellectual people, they will appreciate that you did not slaughter the language.  Literally.  Oh wait.  Scratch that last part.

Day 5 - At the Grocery Part One

The beautiful thing about grocery stores is that they contain one stupid thing after another.  Doctors and nutritionists encourage us to read labels for pragmatic reasons, but I find myself reading them just to see what someone decided was a well thought-out sentence.  And then there are the signs around the grocery store itself.  If you’re really reading them, you know what I’m talking about.  Here are some things I noticed today at the grocery store:

The non-dairy section.  If you already have all the dairy in the dairy section, then isn’t the non-dairy section the rest of the store?

Natural and Organic.  This was funny to me at first because I’m pretty sure that in order for something to be organic, it HAS to be natural.  Then I thought that maybe this sign denoted both some organic items, and some natural items that are not organic.  But then I saw that the sign was hung over bottled water.

Gravity-proof glue.  This glue caught my eye  because it was blue and glittery.  It was labeled ‘space glue’ and claimed to be gravity proof.  It wasn’t floating above the shelf, so I asked the cashier what it meant.  She stared at the bottle and then replied, “I think it means that if you use it to stick something on, it doesn’t fall off.”  I see.  That’s actually a very good quality in glue.

Better Than Ears.  This was the name of a product in the pet food section.  I happen to be familiar with the pig ears dog snack and assume this is what they are referring to, but surely when naming this product they had to realize that there might be people who are not.  Terrified children everywhere will be picking this up in the store only to have nightmarish visions of their beloved family pets staring longingly at their ears.  And what of the adults?  Wouldn’t they wonder what kind of bizarre testing had to happen in order to place this item on the taste scale right above ears?  And for that matter, although I’ve never tasted ears, I’d be willing to bet that the claim is applicable to every food product in the store.

You’ll noticed I titled this article part one.  I go back to the grocery store next week, and I have no doubt there will be more stupid stuff to find.

Day 4 - Packaging

My affinity for Starbucks aside, I generally like to spend my money at privately owned businesses, and that includes my drug store.  This morning as I waited for a prescription to be filled, I decided to splurge a buck on some emery boards and file my nails while I waited.  Not because my nails actually needed filing, but because I quickly discovered that a small drug store is the least conducive store to browsing in the world.

So, I sat down with my purchase and removed the cardboard backing.  However, this was the type of packaging that toothbrushes and compact powders come in, and on such packaging the cardboard never actually comes completely off.  It peels apart leaving a second layer of cardboard to get through, only the second layer is always completely flush with the plastic front leaving nothing to grip and remove it with.  I used my fingernail to jab through the remaining layer, breaking the corner of my nail in the process.  Luckily, I had just the thing with which to file the jagged edge.  Sort of.  With the cardboard barrier successfully breeched, I removed the emery boards to find them shrink-wrapped tightly together with a thick layer of plastic.  Really?

So I pulled and I poked and I scratched, and three broken fingernails later, I had access to my emery boards AND a use for them.  It was win/win.  But it got me thinking about the new obsession with putting thick molded plastic around everything valued at $9.99 and above.  I get that manufacturers want to make it difficult to peel open packaging and steal their products, but who came up with the no-seam, slices-you-open-if-you-open-with-scissors packaging model?  Somehow, packaging companies have figured out a way to mold non-pliable plastic around the product so tightly that it can’t be penetrated by any of my household utensils.  I would love to know how that boardroom conversation went down.  “How do we keep people from stealing this?”  “Let’s make it impossible to open.”  “Don’t be ridiculous.  The customer has to open it.”  “Let’s make it ALMOST impossible to open.”  “Now you’re thinking.”

Environmentally speaking, this stuff has got to be lethal.  So where are the protests and the petitions?  Plastic water bottles barely stand up on their own anymore because the thinner plastic has been deemed more environmentally sound, and yet I’m still an earth-hater if I purchase one.  So why isn’t anyone clamoring about this packaging that is thick enough to sever an artery?

For now, I’ve come up with a plan of attack that keeps my skin intact.  I use both hands to get my scissor blades through the outer lip of the packaging, cut a large circle around the edge and then in  a spiral pattern cut closer and closer to the product and BAM!  Four hours later I can use my purchase.

Day 3 - McDonald's

I don't frequent McDonald's.  That's not a reflection of my opinion of McDonald's or of their food so much as it is a reflection of the large percentage of my life that has been spent too broke to have other people cook for me.  But because I am not a frequent customer, I don't know what is on their menu.  I mean, I get that you have your Big Mac and Quarter Pounder and other classics that have been there a really long time, but for those of us who may go there once or twice a year, there are a whole lot of other items that pop up.  I can't tell you what those items are, however, because I never get to look at the menu. 

I resigned myself long ago to the fact that unless I am going to order a Big Mac or a Quarter Pounder, I can't use the drive-through.  Drive-throughs are designed for speed.  It’s kind of the point.  I get that.  What I don’t get is why they can’t set up a menu about 3 car lengths back so that while I’m waiting in line I could be choosing my lunch and have something to do besides sorting the receipts in my car console.  But they don’t, so as a courtesy to the throngs of people in a hurry and familiar with more than just the Big Mac or Quarter Pounder, I park and go into the restaurant.

Also as a courtesy to others, I don’t get in line right away.  My theory when I first started this practice was that going up to the counter was the recognized action meaning ‘I am now ready to order.’  But every time I start looking at the menu from the back of the restaurant, a well-meaning employee shouts to me at the back of the restaurant.  “Can I help you, ma’am?”  Maybe my lack of McDonald’s experience has left me naïve to the masses of confused customers those employees must deal with every day.  Maybe there are people wandering about aimlessly wishing that they could figure out how to get someone to take their order.  If this is the case, I would suggest that they hire a retired person greeter, like WalMart does, only instead of saving you the trouble of reaching for a cart, these people could gently guide people to the cash registers.  That way, those of us who want to read the menu can do so in peace from the back of the store.

Today, after the inevitable cross-the-restaurant greeting, I told the employee that I was still deciding and she left to go do something important in the back.  But no worries.  She was immediately replaced by another employee who shouted pleasantly, “Can I help you, ma’am?”

I ordered a Big Mac.

Day 2 - The Jersey

Ironically, today's stupid moment happened outside of a coffee shop.  Of course, I spend a lot of time inside and around coffee shops, so statistically speaking, stupidity inside and around coffee shops had to get a hit eventually.

Standing outside of the coffee shop was a woman smoking a cigarette with a child that looked to be about 18 months old (the kid wasn’t smoking his own cigarette, just enjoying the smoke from hers).  I watched for a few minutes as he continually tried to get out of his stroller, but kept knocking it over instead.  At first I thought he might have some sort of mental challenge that he was contending with, but then the mother spoke and I realized he was probably developmentally right on target.

“This is the next Ohio State quarterback right here,” she informed me as she blew smoke in his face.  I was actually at a loss as to what to say.  Should I break it to her that the next Ohio State quarterback is already in college and that this kid would hardly be a contender against an 18-year-old?  It occurred to me that she didn’t really mean ‘next’, so much as ‘future’, so I let it slide.  Should I tell her that in the future his inevitable asthma may be a disqualifier?  Or that I’m pretty sure dexterity is a requirement for football players, and that her kid was once again in danger of being overcome by a stroller?

As I debated with myself on whether or not sarcasm would be completely lost on this woman, she spoke again.  “He has a jersey and everything.”  Is there some sort of try-out level that I am unaware of in which OSU players are required to provide their own jerseys?  Wouldn’t that be a bitch?  “His stats were great, he had the grades, but the damn kid never thought to buy a jersey.”  I thought about the jersey in my own closet and wondered what my chances were for the spring.  It was not a career option my Guidance Councilor had ever brought up for me.

I decided that sarcasm would be confusing for her, but I didn’t know how to respond any other way, so I said, “Having a jersey is the first step.”  She agreed and went on to tell me that it had a one on it or something.  I had to walk away.  If she can’t even identify the number one with conviction yet, I’d say the kid’s chances of getting into Ohio State are small.  But it got me thinking.  Why is everyone always trying to figure out the careers of children? 

My son is 14 weeks old, and every time he kicks his legs he’s a soccer player, and when he swings his fists he’s a boxer.  There are some careers that I will probably steer him clear of, but I’m not really making any permanent employment decisions at this time.  Paula Poundstone said that when adults ask children what they want to be when they grow up it’s because the adult is looking for ideas.  I get that.  But what are we doing when we try to assign a career to a child?  Probably the same thing, I guess.  Maybe I should go back to the coffee shop and give that woman my jersey.

Day 1 - Starbucks

Okay, so it's the very first day of my 'stupidity project' and I'm already going to break the rules.   This event didn't actually happen to me today.   However, I thought it would be apropos to begin with a coffee shop story (if you don't understand why I'm deeming that scenario appropriate, you may very well be appearing in future blogs), and since I don't have any readers yet, I'm not letting anyone down. To further confuse the issue, I'm not writing about an event at all, but rather a recurring situation at one of my favorite places to grab coffee – Starbucks.

Starbucks is generally staffed with some pretty intelligent people.   I have been to enough of them over the years to feel safe in making that statement.   I have no idea what percentage of them have college degrees, but I can think of a number of degrees that don't have any other employment prospects, so I'm guessing it's pretty high.  And I completely understand the frustration that comes from spending $50,000 on a degree and still having a career with no prestige, mediocre pay, and little or no authority.   I majored in English, after all.  These are my people.

There is an interesting phenomenon that happens with people who have very little authoritative power – they exercise what power they do have at every opportunity.   It's understandable, really . We all need to feel superior at some point.  In fact, that's the basis for this very project. (Seriously. My people.)   But Starbucks has created an interesting outlet for that power-wielding desire by giving a unique and specific name to each menu item.   The sizes of coffee, for example . A drink-sizing name system was already worked out and used successfully in the food service industry for many years.  Small, medium, and large are our agreed upon drink sizes.   You can argue extra large and other variances if you really want to, but do you really want to be that guy?   The point is that Starbucks took the entire accepted sizing system and threw it out the window.   At Starbucks, small is tall, medium is grande, and large is venti.

Since this project is about stupidity, I feel I should take a moment to point out that the names that were chosen in their attempt to rename the accepted sizing system are inconsistent and don't make sense either...are they trying to be Italian or not?   I don't even speak Italian, but I know that 'tall' is not an Italian word.   It's an English one that does not mean 'small'.   I also know from my Spanish classes that grande means 'big', and I'm sure it's the same in Italian.   Even if I'm wrong and Italian differs from Spanish on that, I guarantee it doesn't mean 'medium'.  And venti means 20, which would denote ounces (which an Italian would not use to measure the volume of his drink), and means nothing when ordering an iced drink at Starbucks since those are 24 ounces.

But even if the new names made sense, do the employees have to correct patrons who cling to the outdated naming system?   Why is it that if I order a 'large', the barista cannot silently translate that into 'venti'?   Surely she has also used the small, medium and large system at some point, and recognizes the correlation between the Starbucks terminology and the standard.   So why does it get repeated back to me in the new phraseology as a question?   “Large iced white chocolate mocha, please.” “Iced venti white chocolate mocha?” “I believe so, yes.   You tell me.  Is venti 24 ounces?”

Besides my affinity for the white chocolate mocha, I often enjoy a double shot of espresso with a dollop of whipped cream.   Seems simple enough, right?   I mean, I get that some people may struggle with 'dollop', but overall, it's a fairly simplistic drink order.   Not at Starbucks.   A double shot of espresso is a dopio, and although with every other drink on the menu, “with whip” is the correct way to request whipped cream, if you're ordering it with espresso, it's 'con panna' (which I assume means 'with whip' in Italian).   I was corrected on this order so many times, that I decided to actually learn the Starbucks terminology.   It seemed so important to them that I do so.   And believe it or not, 'con panna' is not an intuitively obvious phrase when it's only been heard out loud by baristas who are attempting a mandated second language.  Copama?  Compana?   I finally looked it up online, and armed with my new language arsinal (as it were), I stepped up to the counter with confidence and with perfect pronunciation ordered a dopio con panna.

The barista smiled at me pleasantly and said, “A what?”

The Project

According to T.S. Eliot, our days can be measured out in coffee spoons, meaning that the consistency of coffee in our daily lives (or, in my case, a white chocolate mocha) would theoretically allow us to construct a sort of bizarre hourglass with each coffee spoon (or Starbucks to-go cup) making a sort of strange substitute for each grain of sand, and each grain of sand representing one day of life.

I pose that a similar metaphor could be created with stupid things that people say or do.  I may not consistently start my morning with a dose of stupidity, but at some point during my day, I will encounter something, somewhere that is really dumb.  Sometimes, coincidentally enough, while I am in the process of getting my coffee.

So my goal for the next 365 days is to take note of the dumbest thing that I encounter all day, and point it out to others so that everyone can feel a little bit superior as we age.