As we grow way from normal, face to face human interactions, it seems we find it more and more difficult to actually find safe conversation starters with people we don’t really know too well. I say this, but realize that it really has nothing to do with the desoicalization trends of technology. I am just grasping at another chance to shout from my soap box. The truth is I think this may actually be something genetically coded into humans.

There are so many topics two people can explore, no matter how well they know each other. The thing is, many of these topics are ripe with emotional context, and basically an invitation to battle. It’s one thing if you are talking with your BFF’s or your family members. Then battle is perfectly acceptable, depending on your specific relationship. But the average, peace-loving individual may want to steer clear of these subjects when circumstance force us to actually TALK to people we don’t know very well. For instance, if you are walking your dog, and the pesky critter insists on dragging you to that other guy over there, walking HIS dog, what do you say to each other. Do you discuss the dogs? For a moment, mainly out of sheer embarrassment. But it gets awkward leaving it there, so the need to extend the conversation … you know actually have an END point, compels you to say more. Do you discuss politics? Danger, Will Robinson!!. Maybe religion. Don’t even go there!! How about sports? That could make the other two topics look like a love fest. So what WOULD be a safe topic?

Then the answer hits you. It is right there all along … and all the time. The safest topic in the world, one which can be discussed with ANYONE, and even if there is some disagreement will end any conversation smoothly … and more importantly …  PEACEFULLY. So you pick your phrase, and all is well with the world. “How could you not enjoy a day as beautiful as this?” Or maybe, “I can’t believe it is so cold?” Or any of a whole list of any other trite but accurate comments about the weather, some positive, some negative. The other guy gives an appropriate response, which may or may not actually relate to what you said, and you both go on about your business, potential disaster averted.

Lesson of the day … if you are not sure what to say, just mention the weather.

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Sanity is basically a figment of someone’s imagination. It, like history, is defined by those in charge. But I am officially denying anyone else the right to dictate my life for me, and thus will randomly choose my current state of sanity based on my mood, the weather, and the drink in front of me (most recently Petron and Pickle Juice). Yep, this world has gone so bonkers that strictly abiding by an arbitrary set of sanity rules really is counter-productive,

It is sadly true that we can gauge the mindset of the world by spam. Yet that has become one of the ultimate truths of the age of technological over-stimulation. I love receiving emails about how to gain a drug free lifestyle right after the one selling me a hard on in a bottle. Or maybe the paper mail with all sorts of inserts asking me to donate money to save trees. I love the whole concept of having to opt out of a mailing list that I never opted in for in the first place. And to make it more fun, this nonsense now has grown beyond email … now we get it on our phones too.

But spam has gone beyond simple communications. The very media has joined in the spam revolution. News has little to do with imparting knowledge, now it is about messing with minds. Entertainment is just a longer commercial. Yep the world has decided to totally redefine what sanity means, and I want no part of it. So I rejoice in governments that feel that denying OTHER people’s salaries is an effective way to balance a budget. That is like turning of the power grid to conserve electricity. I embrace the war on drugs as long as they are not on the official “legal” drug list. I love the war on terror when we are not using fear to sell products. And I have to laugh to tears on war for the sake of peace.

I think the answer to the worlds problems may in fact be to stop taking things so seriously. I went through a phase in life in which I felt shamed to laugh at pain. But I have since realized that we can choose to share the pain, or we can choose to find the bright side in the darkness. Laughter, even so-called “inappropriate” laughter, is to the soul as music is to the ears. It is what keeps us moving forward when everything is trying to drive us back. So join me in boycotting sanity. Laugh. Laugh LOUDLY. Make everyone look at you with an odd face combined with a bit o’ jealousy.

The world IS a funny place.

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This imprecision can often lead to misunderstanding, sometimes humorous, even if that is not the intent of the word maker. We all occasionally hear things wrong. And our mind loves to play tricks on us, so sometimes we will hear what we WANT (or even DON’T WANT) to hear. Since I love playing with words, I often find myself doing this on purpose, much to other people’s discomfort. My humor is usually labeled as painful.

For instance the other day, my mother mention speaking to Mike Cook (her tax man), and what I heard was My Cook. Since she makes most of the meals in the house (don’t judge!), I was wondering why she just didn’t use her cook if she had one. I was also surprised this was the first time I had heard about said person.

Yesterday, as I was running around doing last-minute prep for the PENDING ADVENTURE, I actually interacted with a few humans again. As I was paying for a purchase at one store, the very friendly check out girl, following procedure, asked if I wanted to help people with cancer ( don’t specifically remember which kind). Being tight with the funds I said not today, and then after a few seconds, I said, “It seems to me people do fine on their own getting cancer, why would they need my help?” The poor girl looked at me blankly, probably wondering if I forgot to take my meds. She might have got it when my mother chimed in with possible better ways of asking the question.

Yep. language is an interesting critter!

The post It’s all in the phrasing first appeared on thrumyeyes.

Some folks recognized that flinging sounds at each other became an issue when distance was involved, and raising the volume only limitedly improved things. So they got even MORE clever and started associating the sounds with various repetitive marks, which could be put on stuff and carried distances. Now the slight inconvenience of trying to babble to the guy on the other side of the mountain or such was dealt with. Of course it took special training to be able to convert sounds to pictures and then back to sounds again, so there was still a fair amount of inconvenience.

Over time that wacky thing called the human mind started doing that overdrive thing … time passed … and the distance and speed of delivering those sounds kept improving. The sounds become more complicated, the methods and speed of delivery of the sounds continued to improve and were available to more and more people. Now we can pretty much spout our sounds instantaneously at distances that were not even conceivable when we first started yeowling. Throughout all this change though, there was one constant … us silly humans had to LEARN HOW.

But that seems to no longer be the case …

It is apparent that the ability to use advanced thing-a-ma-jigs for the purpose of sharing our sounds over distance is now something we are born with. I am not sure if we should be awed or frightened by this.

I guess the next step is to be born with the toys built-in?

The post Advances in shouting first appeared on thrumyeyes.

Anyway, between working on my inner Adonis, saving the world by annoying one person at a time, pretending to be a writer, and apparently having an unusual voice defect that results in no one ever hearing me say the word no, I have once again take on the duty of Uncle Parent. Last time it was Uncle Mom. This month I am Uncle Dad. I have been in staying with my niece and sister for the last couple of days, and will be for a large portion of the next month. My BIL is off to summer camp with the Lizzie and Jasper, but Sarah needs to finish school before she and mom join him. So enter Uncle Dad.

(Photos of Lizzie and Jasper courtesy of Lisa Kramer … my sister)

It is funny how some habits become so ingrained in us that we are kind of lost when they are temporarily not needed any more. For instance, whenever one enters my sister’s house, one has to assume a kind of airplane crash position until the dogs’ rather exuberant greetings are done with … that is if one wants to survive it. But the last couple of days, after I have quickly dived under the nearest table, I find myself waiting for a few minutes with nothing happening. The lack of doggie is affecting us all, even though I am not as used to them being around as the regular tenants. For some reason, Sarah did not quite buy it when I loudly barked as she came home from school today. I was just trying to fill the void.

Ironically, this has absolutely nothing to with the anecdote I wanted to share today. But I had no idea how to set it up, so closed my eyes and started typing. Who knew I type as well as a thousand monkeys? Anyhoo … I was doing something in my current room … I believe writing a masterpiece or some other important task on the computer, when I suddenly heard my sister exclaim to my niece: "Why are you poking my balls?" I have to admit, this was definitely an unexpected phrase. After all, Sarah is only 10.

Oh yeah, they also happen to both be female (as most sisters and nieces tend to be).

Fortunately having just seen Sarah’s new backscratcher, and having used the water weight balls in a workout yesterday, I actually understood what they were talking about. But it was still worth a laugh nonetheless!

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Enter Uncle Steve.

In order for my energetic niece to not actually get bored out of her skull (and probably to make sure she does no terrorize her busy parents), she joined us at my house for a few days. That is always an adventure, and fun too. But now that Sarah is on the verge of being a senior citizen (she turned ten a little while ago), she tends to have a lot more … oomph … in her request making. She made it very clear to me that it is totally unfair for all the other family members in her generation to be Ninja Cats, so we are introducing her today with this post. Welcome to our newest Ninja Cat, my niece Sarah.

But that is not what this post is actually about.

Today was day two of her vacation visit, and also day two of … well two days of actual springlike weather. Now normally we would totally ignore this fact, like any proper person from a high-tech society, and continue in our dark dingy house whatever electronic stimulation was readily available. But somehow we go it in our head that sunlight and fresh air is GOOD.

I know. I now. Crazy thinking!

So we went outside for a couple of hours, and did what any typical 46-year-old male and his 10-year-old niece are liable to do on an excursion outside … played sports went for a walk had a picnic built a fairie house. It is a work of art. Really!

I just wonder how much rent we can expect to make out of it?

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This is the age of digital socializing.

If you don’t believe me what are you doing reading this? :p

Everybody who is anybody (might be a good idea to turn the sarcasm meters off now), belongs to one social networking site or another. And on those sites are a collection of addictive, time-wasting apps that gather cult followings. My particular addiction is “Tagging” sites.  People post pics. You then can “tag” said people with a selection of generic tags, or if you are daring, get original. Then the site stops working and someone makes a new one, and all the original faces move on to the new site. But not to worry, there will also be a collection of new cult followers. Granted a large percentage of folk on these sites are looking for something they will never find. But there are also genuine friends to be made.

So I am on the newest incarnation of this drug, no doubt with a glazed and slack-jawed look on my face as I manically tag. Most pics that trigger my tagging reflex get a generic tag. But some inspire the original tag. I come across a picture of a stunning woman with the following greeting line: “Gay/Taken/Hobo/Hacker/Ninja/Pirate/Geek/Girl Called Pete”.

OK. This one is worth a look. I click on About ME (apparently considered sacrilege by many). Alright I looked at More Pics first. I AM a guy! And her About Me says this: “I’m warning you, I’m weightless – don’t hang anything on me if you ever want to see it again.”

Yep. I’m hooked. Of course the following thought process flashes through my brain before I dare come up with an Incredibly Original Tag:

PETE: Beautiful.     ME: Well, me.
PETE: Has a girl friend.     ME: Saw the word girlfriend in the dictionary once.
PETE: Smart.     ME: The jury is out.
PETE: Heavy Metal     ME: Love the Hokey Pokey!
PETE: Sarcastic.    ME: Sarcastic.
Ah! A match made in binary!

Time for The Incredibly Original Tag. Of course I have no idea what I actually said (probably forgot it 10 seconds after posting it as is the norm). But whatever I said worked because she actually responded. We exchanged a few notes and lo and behold: A New Friend!

The post Making friends, the digital way… first appeared on thrumyeyes.

The real adventure was when I stopped in Friendly’s for lunch. Being Easter sunday, it was one of the few restaurants open. Back in the day when everybody still specialized, and Friendly’s was just a dessert place, I used to eat there all the time. I was especially fond of Jim Dandy’s (for those who have no idea what that is, it is a monster sunday that has among other things a banana in it). I have not eaten at Friendly’s in quite some time. It is ironic that this week I ate there twice. Once specifically for a Jim Dandy.

Anyway, I walked into the restaurant, and it was kind of empty as I expected. I was pleasantly greeted by the manager, and led to a booth. As I was waiting to be seated (a quick wait) I had noticed a sign about a coloring contest for kids. So when my waitress came to my table, I asked how old do you have to be to enter the coloring contest.

She smiled with one of the sunniest smiles I have seen in a while, and asked me if I wanted to color. Of course I said yes! So she brought me the kids set up.  Now anyone who knows me would not be surprised I asked. The surprise is she actually brought it. Most just laugh and basically ignore the request.

I have to admit, it is rather difficult to color creatively when you only have four crayons. But I did what I could. The waitress even took my entry and did something with it (though for all I know she actually just threw it out).

Nothing like releasing the inner child to make a day perfect!

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