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Posts Tagged ‘Media’

December is my favorite month of the year because it is my birthday month, and because it features Christmas, Hanukkah and Kwanzaa – a holidaypalooza! No one gets any work done all month, people eat their body weights in cookies and candy, and parents have the chance to threaten their young children with the phrase, “Santa sees what you are doing right now.”

Christmas Eve is my favorite holiday because of the anticipation. Christmas Day has always felt like a let-down because the wait is over. It’s 364 days for the next build-up. But maybe that’s just me.

So, Christmas Eve = good; Christmas Day = kind of bad.

Here are other pairs:

Good: Bringing home and decorating a real Christmas tree.
Bad: Real Christmas tree needles that clog the ancient vacuum cleaner.

Good: Realizing a new Dyson vacuum cleaner with Root Cyclone technology might make a great Christmas gift.
Bad: Um … asking for a vacuum cleaner for Christmas.

Good: The boys are old enough to help decorate the tree.
Bad: They haven’t figured out the art of spacing.

Good: More quality time with the kids.
Bad: More time with the kids. (You know it is too much togetherness when you hear your son say, “Gideon punched me,” and your husband responds, “Good.”)

Good: Selecting the perfect presents for friends and family.
Bad: Wrapping all those presents and the bills that follow the purchase.

Good: Seeing a person’s reaction when she loves her gift. (Hi, Trish!)
Bad: Seeing the reaction when he doesn’t. (Hello, Ed.)

Good: Taking the kids to see Santa.
Bad: Knowing that the 5-year-old is not getting the computer he requested (!).

Good: Going to your first Hanukkah party.
Bad: Fleeing the Hanukkah party because your son has a meltdown because he doesn’t like the way his shirt collar feels on his neck.

Good: Unseasonably warm weather when the central heat has been acting strangely.
Bad: The kids deciding it’s OK to take off their clothes outside to better enjoy aforementioned warm weather.

Good: Having the time and inclination to make Christmas cookies.
Bad: The extra 10-pound reminder of why you shouldn’t.

Good: Deciding (well, hoping) that friends and family will forgive you for not sending holiday cards because you’ve been out of the country for three months and didn’t get your act together.
Bad: Feeling like a schmuck each time you go to the mailbox and see greetings from others.

Good: Singing Christmas carols as loudly as possible in a closed car.
Extra Good: Torturing your kids with your holiday singing after they’ve been torturing you all day with superhero noises.
Bad: There’s nothing bad about that … for you!

Good: Stop-motion Christmas specials such as “Rudolph, the Red-nosed Reindeer” (although I’m partial to “The Year Without a Santa Claus” because of the Miser Brothers).
Bad: Stop-motion specials such as “Rudolph’s Shiny New Year.” (It’s like the Scrappy Doo of specials.)

Good: The whole holiday season, in my opinion.
Bad: It’s almost over. Sigh.

Happy holidays to all of you!

 

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Getting out of Lacoste is a little bit of a challenge. To meet up with 36-hour Tina in Turin, Italy, this weekend, I had to fly in this from Marseille to Milan.

Only 18 seats on that puddle jumper.

A train or a car would have taken about seven hours, so I dealt with it.

And a weekend with my friend was worth it. (I should rename Tina as we spent a whole 60 hours together this visit.) It rained the entire time, but we still had fun (eating, mostly).

I also had fun watching a little Italian television in our sweet 1980s living room.

Yes, that's red velvet.

 

Here’s what I saw on Italian television:

  • A “Starsky and Hutch“-style overdubbed show from the ’80s (to match the couch)
  • An infomercial where a woman in sparkling white pumps demonstrated the cleaning power of a vacuum cleaner. Look! It sucks up cigarette butts from an ashtray! (Why couldn’t she just dump the ashtray’s contents into the trash?)
  • An infomercial for a water-purifying faucet that comes in a variety of festive colors, such as burnt plastic.
  • Three men dressed in drag seated at a desk reading something off clipboards.
  • News delivered by women wearing lingerie.
  • No fewer than four channels devoted solely to cars.
  • A close-up shot of a man using a pencil carved from a tree branch as a pointer to read through each headline in that day’s newspaper.
  • A participatory talk show featuring the host dressed in a George Washington get-up.
  • A “Welcome Back, Kotter“-style high school drama featuring a fat, pasty Johnny Depp wannabe and a kid with too many teeth in his mouth.
  • C’è posta per Te” (loosely translated as “you’ve got mail”), a Maury/Sally Jesse/Montel type of reunion show.
  • What can only be described as the “Understanding Art Channel.”

All of the above employed the production quality/values from the ’80s and ’90s. It was like a time warp.

Outside the ’80s bubble, plenty was happening in Turin. One of the biggest things was the SilverSkiff, an annual regatta on the Po River. It’s why Tina was in Turin in the first place. Unfortunately, she and the other rowers made the pilgrimage for nothing: The organizers cancelled the race because of the effects of the torrential rain.

We still had a great time, though. Here are some photos (not postcard-perfect, as usual) from the weekend adventure.

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It’s been a busy week for me as I prepare for my Provençal adventure, and it has been a busy week for this blog’s eagle-eyed contributors.

Apparently, it has been a tough week for those who write for public view.

For example, Max found a syntax mistake made by a WTOC Web writer.

“[This] has me imagining 81 ambulances lined up in front of the McDonalds in Pooler,” Max wrote. And then do they snap the victim into nine pieces so they can each get a part?

Aileen wants to know what “homous” is. I don’t know, but I don’t think the Tea Party would approve.

Daniel wrote of this sign, “Do they want us to kill our garbage instead?” Good question. Perhaps that will make it easier to be “procesed.”

Cheryl noticed this headline:

That must be one large ensemble if they can lay off 30,000 and still have members. It gives new meaning to the term “big band” (or Band Aid, even).

Finally, Aimee spotted this sign at All-American Gymnastics:

At least someone had the decency to cross out the offending word. Adding the correct one would have been a bonus.

Thank you to this week’s contributors! (And I really hope I didn’t make any mistakes in this post … )

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Mike Judge is starting to look more and more like Nostradamus; his “Idiocracy” is akin to “The Prophecies.”

You need evidence that we live in a society that is shunning intellectual curiosity and social responsibility? You must not have watched any of the debt debates.

There are other signs all around of our declining intellectual ability. Literally.

Here’s one offered by my friend Lisa, who was mortified to find this at her son’s school:

God forbid the "parnet's" forget eggs on "Wesdnesday." That might be the day they also learn about spelling and apostrophe usage.

Royce provided this selection from the Savannah Morning News:

Maybe a "cachier" is a new term for someone who helps with a cache of coupons.

I saw this during my recent jaunt to Jacksonville:

I wonder if the new ownership will extend care to people of other faiths too.

Karla was amused by this entry in a cabin’s guest book:

It's clear they don't quite have a handle on our "human words." Ah, the intricacies of adverbs, adjectives and verbs.

And finally, from Elyse, here is evidence of a desperate attempt to sound important — an attempt office workers see on a regular basis:

Somewhere the word "use" is weeping quietly.

Sigh.

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As I mentioned in my last post, I taught a creative writing workshop at a community center in Jacksonville last week.

Ages: 9-13
Hours: 9 a.m. – 2 p.m.
Days: Monday – Friday
Me: Completely wiped out

There’s a huge difference between teaching 9 year olds and teaching 13 year olds, and there were three of the former and two of the latter in the class — all girls.

I felt like some kind of lion tamer.

The younger ones wanted to stand on chairs, draw princesses, and talk about Justin Bieber. The older ones wanted to actually work on writing (and smack the younger ones).

You might be surprised to learn that I’m glad I taught the workshop. It was truly a learning experience. You know, the whole “That which doesn’t kill us makes us stronger” philosophy. (Thanks, Nietzsche!) I definitely learned some new skills, which is always good.

And the girls really were fun. A couple of them have promise as writers, and I hope to see their work again.

So, I wouldn’t mind teaching it again next year, but we’ll need to put in some different age parameters, of course.

Maybe, if I’m lucky, it will be a scene out of a “Normal Rockwell” painting. (Thanks, Chris!)

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Just when you thought it was safe to read my blog again, I bring you more photos from the Redneck Games!

(Hey, I allowed a few days for your system to get back to normal after Sunday’s post.)

Sarah shows off her "arsenal of hydration." *

Bursting with excitement, I lead the way to the festival. (Photo by Royce)

Bikinis and boots: A fashion trend sweeping Dublin. (Photo by Royce)

Muscular men and jorts go together like peas and carrots (or twigs and berries, as the case may be). And white velcro shoes too? Mmm ... tasty!

Feast upon this buffet of manflesh and be disappointed you did not get to use your own looking holes -- er, eyes -- in person.

Nothing says "redneck" like a freshly dug mudpit for bellyfloppin'.

Ol' Dixie also makes a great beach towel.

I actually wanted to compete in this event. They didn't draw my number. I wept. (Or maybe that was just sweat.)

Nothing like a "sovienor" cup to commemorate the day.

If you are thinking about attending next year’s Redneck Games, you should know this:

  • It is hotter than the surface of the sun in Dublin in July.
  • Even with a canopy, you must apply sunscreen or you will be redder than the General Lee.
  • There is no organization and no real schedule. Type As must get over it.
  • No real bathrooms either. Savor the Port-O-Let.
  • Media will nearly outnumber the participants.
  • You can make a killing selling ice. And beer. And Dixie bathing suits.

See you all next year!

* Heidi gets the credit for this term.

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Writing succinctly is an art.

It’s why I like to teach Writing and New Media. New media is all about writing many little bits.*

It’s why I’m fascinated with six-word memoirs.

It’s why I’d like to write six-word movie reviews.

Priest
Paul Bettany needs a better agent.

Thor
Please take off your shirt again.

Mr. Popper’s Penguins
I thought it would be worse.Super 8
Like “E.T.,” “Goonies?” You’ll like this.

The Hangover Part II
Same story. Different city. Still funny.

Pirates of the Caribbean: On Stranger Tides
Even my boyfriend couldn’t save it.

Bridesmaids
Best movie out: Hollywood take note.

I think I have a future. Anyone willing to pay for it?

* That’s a fact some of the students in my class didn’t really seem to grasp when they noted there wasn’t much long-form writing in the class. Sigh.

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I apologize for my dissertation-induced hiatus. I’m back with a vengeance: a roundup of this week’s idiocy, near and far.

From Texas:

From Montana:

From around the corner:

I think I'm offended.

And from the Savannah Morning News:

I can't imagine the Muslim would want to be worn anyway.

And I’ve just discovered the apostrophe key is not working on my laptop (all of the ones here were cut and pasted). How will I survive?

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… ‘Students and the enormous revenue they bring in to our institution are a more valued commodity to us than faculty,’ Dean James Hewitt said. ‘Although Rothberg is a distinguished, tenured professor with countless academic credentials and knowledge of 21 modern and ancient languages, there is absolutely no excuse for his boring Chad with his lectures. Chad must be entertained at all costs.’ (from ‘Professor deeply hurt by student’s evaluation‘)

Thank you to The Onion for providing this little bit of levity regarding the serious business of student evaluations. (I’ve mentioned my feelings about them before.)

Just this morning, one of my coworkers was lamenting the “age of entitlement” and mourning the death of professor respect. I’m not sure I’m in a position to really complain about narcissism, though. My activity on Facebook, Twitter and this blog is not exactly bucking the trend.

Let’s look at the concept of narcissism as defined by Jean M. Twenge and W. Keith Campbell, authors of “The Narcissism Epidemic: Living in the Age of Entitlement.”

Narcissists believe they are better than others, lack emotionally warm and caring relationships, constantly seek attention, and treasure material wealth and physical appearance.

So I’ll narcissistically comment on my narcissism in my narcissistic blog: One out of the four is definitely true, and I think someone could make a case for two others, although only in specific areas.

But enough about me. What about you?

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I attended a lecture last night by Nicholas Carr, author of “The Shallows: What the Internet Is Doing to Our Brains.” I was very interested in what he had to say because I have written about Carr before, and I have had his book on my shelf for nearly a year.

Sadly, I’ve been too distracted to read it.

And, sadly again, that’s his point.

What he says is true: The constant barrage of information via smartphone, iPad, desktop computer, laptop, iTouch, etc., is eroding our ability to concentrate. We’re reverting to cavepeople distracted by all the sights and sounds of our environment, as opposed to the erudite focusers we became after Gutenberg invented the printing press.

One of his slides gave me great pause.

People claim they check email a couple of times per hour. Once research participants were fitted with eye-tracking paraphernalia, researchers discovered they checked email 30-40 times per hour.

Yikes.

No wonder I’m not done with my dissertation yet.

To his credit, Carr identified the many ways the Internet has improved our lives, including enhanced visual-spatial skills. And he admits to being distracted as well.

Here’s the point I’ve made before: The Internet is not going away. So what do we do to maintain and improve our ability to focus?

We turn it off. Use it sparingly. Have conversations without checking email, Twitter, Facebook, texts, etc. In Carr’s words to me in the book he signed, “Stay deep.”

I’ll be looking for a nice WiFi-disabled cave to hang out in while I finish my dissertation.

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