I'm usually one who has to be pushed into the present day when it comes to technology like for instance cell phones, email, internet, dvd players, you get the idea. I found email particularly irritating at first because it seemed to laugh in the face of proper business communication rules such as a header, date line, salutation, body of message constructed with an opening greeting followed by what you were going to talk about then talked about it then summarized it and closed with a "sincerely". This format conveyed everything that was needed without any feeling or emotion whatsoever which is exactly what's needed in business. Emails on the other hand....
There is supposed to be generally accepted rules of email etiquette which include former business communication rules from yester-year like having a salutation, body, and closing but also include tips designed to help the foreigner through the new culture of internet communication, similar to travel tips.
One tip is that capitalization of your entire message means you're yelling; not unlike pulling your ear in Italy indicates the same senitment as the middle finger does in America. There is a Document Preparer that has always capitalized every email she's ever written and when I first open them up, I actully lean back in my chair as if her voice is blaring out of my monitor.
Another tip is to avoid trying to be humorous because emotion does not always read in an email and could be misinterpreted. It could also be used against you in a court of law. Remember that the next time you send "Is embezzlement still against the law?"
Yet another tip is to avoid sending the supflerous "thank you" email where that's the only thing you're saying. The recipient has to take time to open your email only to see "Thank you!" written and has gained no new knowledge but has instead wasted 30 seconds of his life that he'll never get back. I confess that I am sometimes guilty of this. But then again, I work with sensitive people who need a pat on the back before they can continue in life.
Too many people treat an email as if they were standing face to face with the person and discard any rule of etiquette that ever existed. A fine example is an email I received yesterday after asking a procedure question. The response was "you preparer should enter it!" That's it. No salutation or closing signature or anything else. To me, this said that the respondant was so angry with my question that he couldn't even take time to capitalize the beginning of his sentence but sure could take enough time at the end of the sentence to find the ! key. I responded with an apology and clarified the reason for my question. His response was "no problem! all is good!" I will now forever imagine this person as being like a golden retriever, always jumping up and down every time he speaks.
Other items that drive me crazy about email is the massive confusion of the reply feature. There are waaaaay too many options. Do you reply to one or all? Do you realize when you are replying to all instead of one? Is the signature block at the bottom or top? Are you one of those that writes your reply in a different colored font in the middle of the original message (Ms. Fancypants!), do you try to be sneaky and remove sections of the message that could be damaging to your reputation before replying?
That brings me to another topic, that damn blind cc. It can often be used for good but too many times it is used for evil. Like copying a supervisor or other authority figure in a part of an email that may or may not have sections deleted. Why not just strap a wire to yourself, go into someones office and ask a question you've already been given the answer to and which by doing so you know will illicit a negative response?
I think one of the main pros of email was that it saves on paper. This is a fallacy. I once worked for a Dean who never read her own emails on a computer screen, she instited that all of them be printed out upon which she would write her response and have someone type that response into the email and hit 'send'. It looks like Sarah Palin may have done this also.
The one thing email does allow is the ability to hide from people. If you don't want to hear the sound of their voice, just respond to their voice mail with an email. There are many times when this feature makes email worth any other trouble it may cause.
I have to go now and get caught up on the 11 emails I've received since I started writing this.
Friday, June 24, 2011
Thursday, June 23, 2011
Gimme Back My Bullets
I really like using the phrase "Is it still illegal to shoot someone?" because the answer is completely obvious so no one would take you seriously yet they get the point that you are incredibly aggitated with someone.
I was thinking this to myself last night while driving home and an immediate afterthought was "What if it wasn't?" I mean, what if we were all given one freebie, one shot on-the-house? You know, kind of like that other fun remark of "You only get one of those" after someone has hit you with a snowball, or has somehow otherwise zinged you. I bet most of us would waste it as teenagers, you know how rash they can be.
Would there then be some type of black market where shots were bought and sold? That would lead to interesting ethical delimas (after, of course, we have resolved the original delima of being allowed to actually kill someone); if the goodie-two-shoes people always somehow got rid of theirs so they could claim that they would never do such a thing even if it was allowed, could they still claim they were better than others if they knew someone was going to get two shots? I bet all of the manipulators out there would figure out ways to convince others to use theirs on people they really want dead and so that in essence, they could really have more than one free shot.
But there would be no guarantee that the shot would kill the other person. Then you have the issue of someone having a grudge against you forever; maybe they turn and use theirs on you and you actually die. Just like a good old-fashioned duel. Someone once told me that there is documentation of a duel held down in the South in the 1800's where it took something like three days for the two men to die; they had so many wounds that they were just slowly bleeding out. That certainly takes the romance out of those duel scenes in the movies, but not the movie "Duel" because that's between automobiles.
What if there were some countries or governmental units that decided to not follow that free-shot policy? Would the people rise up and revolt? What if that leader was replaced with someone who didn't even like punching or any action that could be construed as assault but then constructed invisible fencing around the border so the people couldn't leave? Oh, that's just silly.
This all started because a new co-worker has a very bad habit of throwing insults into the middle of her sentences but ending with a question so you then answer the question and you always mean to go back and address the insult but somehow never get the chance to...and it leaves you angry. So angry that if you had one free shot, you'd probably use it on her.
I was thinking this to myself last night while driving home and an immediate afterthought was "What if it wasn't?" I mean, what if we were all given one freebie, one shot on-the-house? You know, kind of like that other fun remark of "You only get one of those" after someone has hit you with a snowball, or has somehow otherwise zinged you. I bet most of us would waste it as teenagers, you know how rash they can be.
Would there then be some type of black market where shots were bought and sold? That would lead to interesting ethical delimas (after, of course, we have resolved the original delima of being allowed to actually kill someone); if the goodie-two-shoes people always somehow got rid of theirs so they could claim that they would never do such a thing even if it was allowed, could they still claim they were better than others if they knew someone was going to get two shots? I bet all of the manipulators out there would figure out ways to convince others to use theirs on people they really want dead and so that in essence, they could really have more than one free shot.
But there would be no guarantee that the shot would kill the other person. Then you have the issue of someone having a grudge against you forever; maybe they turn and use theirs on you and you actually die. Just like a good old-fashioned duel. Someone once told me that there is documentation of a duel held down in the South in the 1800's where it took something like three days for the two men to die; they had so many wounds that they were just slowly bleeding out. That certainly takes the romance out of those duel scenes in the movies, but not the movie "Duel" because that's between automobiles.
What if there were some countries or governmental units that decided to not follow that free-shot policy? Would the people rise up and revolt? What if that leader was replaced with someone who didn't even like punching or any action that could be construed as assault but then constructed invisible fencing around the border so the people couldn't leave? Oh, that's just silly.
This all started because a new co-worker has a very bad habit of throwing insults into the middle of her sentences but ending with a question so you then answer the question and you always mean to go back and address the insult but somehow never get the chance to...and it leaves you angry. So angry that if you had one free shot, you'd probably use it on her.
Tuesday, June 21, 2011
Please keep all screws with their appropriate nuts
The first rule of disassembly is to have a plan; the second rule is to keep all screws, nuts, and bolts with their respective parts and label them but don't use a felt tip marker; the third rule is to always remember the last part of the second rule; and the fourth rule is don't tell anyone about Disassembly Club. I apologize for this last rule. After typing it, I am now officially sick of seeing "don't tell anyone about fill-in-the-blank Club" inserted at the end of something to make it seem funny. You have witnessed the end of an era...for me.
I have no idea why I suddenly want to tackle this resoration project so much, it's not as if I don't already have enough to do. I imagine a therapist would tell me that there's something lacking in my life so I'm always trying to fill it with whatever comes along. Possibly, but I haven't jumped on the burlesque band wagon yet; I'm still firmly seated in the traditional belly dancing band wagon although I haven't peformed for a long time. Something always comes up that causes me to cancel. At least something always comes up where I would feel guilty if I didn't do/take care of that something and performed instead. That and I'm still scared of social situations. I'm willing to bet that most people who know me do not realize how difficult it is for me to go out in public sometimes. I mean in a social setting like to a bar or someone's back yard.
It's a combination of suddenly becoming uber self-conscious and honestly wanting to stay home in my cozy living room on my comfy couch where there is no stress or tension and I can watch whatever I want on TV. I've waited a long time to find a room like that and sometimes I just don't want to leave it.
That's why I love winter...no one really expects you to clean off your car and drive through all that snow to go anywhere. Only 183 days until winter!
I have no idea why I suddenly want to tackle this resoration project so much, it's not as if I don't already have enough to do. I imagine a therapist would tell me that there's something lacking in my life so I'm always trying to fill it with whatever comes along. Possibly, but I haven't jumped on the burlesque band wagon yet; I'm still firmly seated in the traditional belly dancing band wagon although I haven't peformed for a long time. Something always comes up that causes me to cancel. At least something always comes up where I would feel guilty if I didn't do/take care of that something and performed instead. That and I'm still scared of social situations. I'm willing to bet that most people who know me do not realize how difficult it is for me to go out in public sometimes. I mean in a social setting like to a bar or someone's back yard.
It's a combination of suddenly becoming uber self-conscious and honestly wanting to stay home in my cozy living room on my comfy couch where there is no stress or tension and I can watch whatever I want on TV. I've waited a long time to find a room like that and sometimes I just don't want to leave it.
That's why I love winter...no one really expects you to clean off your car and drive through all that snow to go anywhere. Only 183 days until winter!
Monday, June 20, 2011
In 1974, we were all drunk drivers
I was born in 1971 so I don't remember this law, but in 1974 there was a seatbelt interlocking system that was mandatory in all cars built in the U.S. in 1974. The car would not start unless all front-seat passengers had their seatbelts locked. Without having to read anything further on it, I could imagine how well that worked out. Well, I kept reading because I wanted to get to the section on 1975 Camaros so I quickly learned that the system had flaws (gasp!) and sometimes the ignition wouldn't unlock even though all passengers had their seatbelts on, locked, pinky-promised to always wear them and even crossed their hearts and hoped to die.
This is unfortunate because this silly mandate, along with the front bumper guidelines requiring your car to look like it had wrapped itself around a really long fence post, made several 1974 models undesirable, including the 1974 Camaro. I claim that this is unfortunate because Chevy switched to a 350 2 bbl engine which would have given it more power except that the weight of the bumper kind of zero'd that out. Again, another example of The Man trying to keep us down, rob us of our power to careen around corners of city streets for absolutely no reason at all.
The seatbelt thing is interesting because I remember very well how I never even saw a seatbelt until I the early '80's. The various family cars may have had them in but they were well tucked into the seats to the point that they couldn't be fished out anymore. This combined with my dad's stellar driving skills, it's a miracle we were never in an accident and thrown clear from the car.
People used to do lots of stuff to and in cars that no one would dare imagine anymore. For instance, drinking and driving. That was pretty much standard for anyone over the legal drinking age (wasn't that 10?) and I think it was mandatory for single males between the ages of 18-32. My uncle had gotten so many DWI's that he started to seriously consider not driving drunk anymore because it was such a hassle. And then they came up with those soul-crushing DWI laws like sending you to jail immediately.
My other uncle and a few other family members actually sold me their cars for $1 when I was living in Duluth just to avoid the emissions standards that the 7-county metro area was enacting in the early '90s. At one point, I was the proud owner of four cars. I think there was also some federal restriction against nitro which I don't remember the finer details of but I remember the hushed tones and quick sideways glances used whenever the topic came up, followed by hand-rubbing and Mr. Burns-esque devious facial expressions.
Well I think we've come a long way as a society in the area of car production, ownership, and use. I wish I could say the same thing about driving skills.
This is unfortunate because this silly mandate, along with the front bumper guidelines requiring your car to look like it had wrapped itself around a really long fence post, made several 1974 models undesirable, including the 1974 Camaro. I claim that this is unfortunate because Chevy switched to a 350 2 bbl engine which would have given it more power except that the weight of the bumper kind of zero'd that out. Again, another example of The Man trying to keep us down, rob us of our power to careen around corners of city streets for absolutely no reason at all.
The seatbelt thing is interesting because I remember very well how I never even saw a seatbelt until I the early '80's. The various family cars may have had them in but they were well tucked into the seats to the point that they couldn't be fished out anymore. This combined with my dad's stellar driving skills, it's a miracle we were never in an accident and thrown clear from the car.
People used to do lots of stuff to and in cars that no one would dare imagine anymore. For instance, drinking and driving. That was pretty much standard for anyone over the legal drinking age (wasn't that 10?) and I think it was mandatory for single males between the ages of 18-32. My uncle had gotten so many DWI's that he started to seriously consider not driving drunk anymore because it was such a hassle. And then they came up with those soul-crushing DWI laws like sending you to jail immediately.
My other uncle and a few other family members actually sold me their cars for $1 when I was living in Duluth just to avoid the emissions standards that the 7-county metro area was enacting in the early '90s. At one point, I was the proud owner of four cars. I think there was also some federal restriction against nitro which I don't remember the finer details of but I remember the hushed tones and quick sideways glances used whenever the topic came up, followed by hand-rubbing and Mr. Burns-esque devious facial expressions.
Well I think we've come a long way as a society in the area of car production, ownership, and use. I wish I could say the same thing about driving skills.
Sunday, June 19, 2011
So, on to the next big thing
Huh, six months can go by pretty quickly. Guess how many plays I’ve read? 0. But in my defense, I’ve completed many other projects; for instance, my fence. While I must confess that this has been the only project completed, it should not be diminished in importance. It took over my entire one-week vacation. Well, that and staining the house. It wasn’t just putting it up, it was taking down the old one, cutting up the old one and hauling it to the solid waste & recycle site (I would like to add here a short note on the humor one finds at a recycle center; namely the South Transfer Station where they ask you if you have wood or metal and if you say “My wood has nails in it, is that okay?” the response will be “You have to pull out all of the nails” after which approximately two seconds of silence, they laugh hysterically) pulling out the cement footings of the misplaced original posts, correctly placing the new posts, and then screwing in the panels after you discover this handy concept called torque and if your drill isn’t at the correct torque level (torquage?) it makes a horrible ratcheting noise announcing to your neighbors that you don’t completely know what you’re doing. That took a week.
It is now taking one month for me to trim the tops of the fence posts which is probably the easiest step in the process. Maybe subconsciously I don’t want the project to be over. I have no idea why I wouldn’t want this to be over. Maybe my subconscious is a sadist.
Today is not only five months and sixteen days since I last posted something; it is also Father’s Day. Or is it Fathers’ Day? Shouldn’t it be Fathers’ Day since it’s supposed to include more than one? I have just googled it and have found journalists who have used both. Someone should be penalized.
I hate both Father’s(s’) Day and Mother’s(s’) Day. People with wonderful parents don’t understand this but then they may not fully realize that they don’t need a day to think about how wonderful their parents are. I’m willing to bet that thought crosses their minds quite often. What this day does is really drive home the point to people without wonderful parents (or parents at all) of what they don’t have. It brings up very specific painful memories of when you used to plug your ears with your fingers so hard that your fingers would go numb, or it carries a certain tension in the air the entire day of how bro isn’t here anymore and if he were here, the day would be much better but since he’s not, there isn’t anything that can be done to make it good. Once, for Father’s (s’) Day, I stopped at the cheese shop on Hwy 8 in Wisconsin to pick up some excellent cuts of beef (because no matter how anyone feels on any holiday, you can always eat), and was surrounded by families; they were all very happy just to be together. They didn’t have to be going anywhere in particular. In fact they probably weren’t, that’s how they ended up at the cheese shop, because it looked like a pleasant place to stop for a minute. If you’re wondering why I would stop for beef at a cheese shop, you have to understand that that’s what they do in Wisconsin. So I left that pleasant picture filled with smiling people to drive to my parent’s trailer where there was no one for miles to eat in silence.
I was very surprised once to hear a former Department Head state that she hated Mother’s (s’) Day. This was a woman who never showed the remotest sensation of anger, stress, annoyance; I don’t think she ever even shook her head in dismay. We met up in the mail room briefly and exchanged the usual “What are you doing this weekend?”’s when she said “I hate Mother’s Day”. She didn’t look at me and left after saying it. I initially was surprised but then it made me feel better. I was very relieved to learn that I wasn’t a bad person for hating that day. Here was someone that was very well respected in her field, very well liked by just about everyone and she hated Mother’s Day. It somehow gave me permission to go ahead with it also.
It’s not just some kids that hate the days, it’s some parents also. I know they’re out there. There have to be some. It’s the same sentiment, just the other side of the coin. I don’t think I used that analogy correctly. Anyway, what I mean is that a person can suddenly have parenthood thrust upon them and have to make a series of painful decisions which they have to keep making for a very long time since when you become a parent, you never stop being a parent, and you have to figure out how to create a person that can at least be functional on their own some day and avoid all of that judgment you think is being made of you by everyone else only to have the kid say horrible things to you and sometimes you wish they would just go away but you’re afraid that if someone heard you say that, they would think less of you. It can be a rough day for many. I think that’s why I subconsciously avoided the Back to the 50’s Car show this weekend (all those dads walking around happily). Maybe my subconscious isn’t a sadist.
So my next project is going to be restoring a ’78 Camaro. You may feel that this is above my paygrade, but I have nothing but time…and a two-car garage currently with only one car in it. This is going to be epic.
It is now taking one month for me to trim the tops of the fence posts which is probably the easiest step in the process. Maybe subconsciously I don’t want the project to be over. I have no idea why I wouldn’t want this to be over. Maybe my subconscious is a sadist.
Today is not only five months and sixteen days since I last posted something; it is also Father’s Day. Or is it Fathers’ Day? Shouldn’t it be Fathers’ Day since it’s supposed to include more than one? I have just googled it and have found journalists who have used both. Someone should be penalized.
I hate both Father’s(s’) Day and Mother’s(s’) Day. People with wonderful parents don’t understand this but then they may not fully realize that they don’t need a day to think about how wonderful their parents are. I’m willing to bet that thought crosses their minds quite often. What this day does is really drive home the point to people without wonderful parents (or parents at all) of what they don’t have. It brings up very specific painful memories of when you used to plug your ears with your fingers so hard that your fingers would go numb, or it carries a certain tension in the air the entire day of how bro isn’t here anymore and if he were here, the day would be much better but since he’s not, there isn’t anything that can be done to make it good. Once, for Father’s (s’) Day, I stopped at the cheese shop on Hwy 8 in Wisconsin to pick up some excellent cuts of beef (because no matter how anyone feels on any holiday, you can always eat), and was surrounded by families; they were all very happy just to be together. They didn’t have to be going anywhere in particular. In fact they probably weren’t, that’s how they ended up at the cheese shop, because it looked like a pleasant place to stop for a minute. If you’re wondering why I would stop for beef at a cheese shop, you have to understand that that’s what they do in Wisconsin. So I left that pleasant picture filled with smiling people to drive to my parent’s trailer where there was no one for miles to eat in silence.
I was very surprised once to hear a former Department Head state that she hated Mother’s (s’) Day. This was a woman who never showed the remotest sensation of anger, stress, annoyance; I don’t think she ever even shook her head in dismay. We met up in the mail room briefly and exchanged the usual “What are you doing this weekend?”’s when she said “I hate Mother’s Day”. She didn’t look at me and left after saying it. I initially was surprised but then it made me feel better. I was very relieved to learn that I wasn’t a bad person for hating that day. Here was someone that was very well respected in her field, very well liked by just about everyone and she hated Mother’s Day. It somehow gave me permission to go ahead with it also.
It’s not just some kids that hate the days, it’s some parents also. I know they’re out there. There have to be some. It’s the same sentiment, just the other side of the coin. I don’t think I used that analogy correctly. Anyway, what I mean is that a person can suddenly have parenthood thrust upon them and have to make a series of painful decisions which they have to keep making for a very long time since when you become a parent, you never stop being a parent, and you have to figure out how to create a person that can at least be functional on their own some day and avoid all of that judgment you think is being made of you by everyone else only to have the kid say horrible things to you and sometimes you wish they would just go away but you’re afraid that if someone heard you say that, they would think less of you. It can be a rough day for many. I think that’s why I subconsciously avoided the Back to the 50’s Car show this weekend (all those dads walking around happily). Maybe my subconscious isn’t a sadist.
So my next project is going to be restoring a ’78 Camaro. You may feel that this is above my paygrade, but I have nothing but time…and a two-car garage currently with only one car in it. This is going to be epic.
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