Oct 21 2012
4 Comments
Informative, Instructive

The Shallow Blog: A Retrospective

For obvious reasons I couldn’t resist this one.

Well it’s possible that calling this a “retrospective” is a tad presumptuous but it has been six months to the day, more or less, since I started the shallow blog and six months is a very long time for a shallow person to “stick-to-it” as they say. So I thought, what the heck, let’s take some time to review all that’s happened from day one until now. Don’t get me wrong. It’s not like I set goals that have to be met or anything like that, although WordPress does award me little trophies to mark various milestones and those do keep me marginally motivated. But I admit that I have become surprisingly attached to this project of mine so it seems somewhat appropriate to take this opportunity to glance back at where I have been.

If you are not a blog writer yourself, and I know that many of you are not, you probably don’t know that the folks at WordPress provide their writers (and I use that word rather loosely), with a plethora of statistics on their readership. I don’t want to scare you but I have a pretty good idea of how many people look at my blog each day and from where they hail. I know how people found my blog and which posts they read when they got there. WordPress tracks the number of comments made and who made them, information that seems to beg for a contest of some sort and yet I have resisted since it appears that I would be the winner of that game. It also provides me with a constant reminder of how often, or not, I have posted. So without further ado, I would like to share with you a summary of (to quote Marvin Gaye) what’s goin’ on.

Shallow Blog Stats

  • I am pleased to report that with this my 30th contribution, I have met my self-imposed obligation to post something at least once a week.
  • To date there have been 1604 visits to the blog. I know that doesn’t mean 1604 people have read the thing although I sometimes I like to interpret it that way.
  • Somehow the blog has attracted an international audience with visitors from not only Canada and the U.S. but also from Australia, India, the United Kingdom, France, the Philippines, the Netherlands, the Russian Republic and, as I write this, apparently Spain and Algeria. I do worry a bit that those from field’s afar may be getting a rather skewed version of life here in the Canadian North and then I think, is it really my responsibility to provide a more balanced repartee so they know there are some deep and caring people in this part of the world? Nope, I’ll leave that task to the good folks at the United Nations.
  • As of today I have 20 “followers” including the two I don’t know and who actually joined the movement of their own volition.
  • On my best day I had 102 visits to the blog. On my worst day I had 0 visits. Nothing more to be said about that.
  • My blog has been “reblogged” once which made me quite happy until I visited that blog and discovered the sole purpose of it was to reblog sites which I assume are randomly chosen as there are hundreds of them each day. The only saving grace is I believe I have actually found someone who is more shallow than me.
  • Perhaps my proudest moment was when I received a “shout out” on one of Edmonton’s most famous blogs “The Unknown Studio”. (How’s that for a reciprocal “shout out”!) Unfortunately it didn’t amount to a great deal of additional traffic but nonetheless warmed my heart as I began to feel connected to the larger blogging community. Not really. I was just hoping for the traffic.

So there you have it, my six months in a nutshell. As I review the data I am mostly pleased with the results of my efforts although there is one thing that seems to have been lost in the crowd of achievements. To date there have been no sales of t-shirts or mugs, not one person is proudly displaying a “shallow and proud” logo on their desk or chest. Don’t get me wrong, it’s not your fault. There are actually no t-shirts or mugs to be had. And here’s why.

My trusted business advisors (well advisor really) has informed me that in order to make the merch thing fly I need to have a critical mass of followers significantly larger than what my current numbers reflect. Assuming that the WordPress stats are accurate, he estimates that an increase of about 10 fold should do the trick. If my calculations are correct and historical data can be relied on to predict future outcomes, left to it’s own devices this blog should reach that target in approximately 50 years. At which point I will be dead. So I started to think about alternatives, how I might be able to speed things up a little and here’s what I came up with.

As I have mentioned I am a woman of multiple achievements in the academic world and this means that I have had the privilege of attending graduation ceremonies more than one time. At my last trip to the podium the honorary speaker was a woman whose name escapes me but whose message apparently resided somewhere in the recesses of my mind and managed to shimmy it’s way to my frontal lobe in the midst of my problem-solving exercise. From what I recall, this highly regarded academic spoke about the “power of one” illustrating through story the tremendous impact that one person can have on our world. I’m not sure she would be ok with this but I thought it could be a useful idea to apply to the blog. If each of my followers shared the blog with one person, who shared with one, who shared with one more, the growth of the blog would be exponential. And I could sell stuff. And you’ll look great. And we will all be happier. Well I know I will be happier and what more could anyone ask of something that has only been in existence for six months? So next time you meet someone you think might enjoy a gander at the site, it’s ok with me if you share it with them. I promise, six months from now I’ll bring you the results of your efforts.

My sincerest thanks to all who have stuck with me these past months and I look forward to our future together… one week at a time.

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Oct 14 2012
2 Comments
Informative

Tag, You’re it! And a bit of a rant.

Red and blue police lightsEvery once in awhile I recall the days of my youth and all of the many hours spent in laughter and play with the neighborhood kids. My admittedly selective memory paints an idyllic picture of boys and girls riding bikes down the steep hill that undulated in front of our houses, sharing penny candies bought with our nickels and dimes at the corner store and running wildly from one backyard to the next playing games like “Red Rover”, “Hide and Seek” and “Tag, You’re it”! It was a time of fun and frivolity with nary a thought to the lessons being learned and how they would profoundly impact our lives as we grew into the mature adults we are today. But impact they did and as I reflect on those times I have have come to the realization that it is as a result of those very games that I can proudly declare myself to be an upstanding and law abiding citizen.

For those of you who know me, and that would be most but not all, thank goodness, of the people who read this blog, it will come as no surprise that I was a rather small child. For some games that proved to be an asset. As you may well imagine, hide and seek was one of my fortes as I could fit into places that were otherwise unavailable to my larger playmates. But at other times my diminutive stature rendered me at a distinct disadvantage and in games like “Tag” I found myself being “caught” over and over again. In fact, I was caught so often that I sometimes defaulted to being “it” for an entire evening. And so it was from this rather daunting experience I came to internalize two “things I know for sure”. The first is that I don’t like getting caught and the second is that, however hard I try to avoid it, I almost always will be the one that does.

Now I know you are shaking your head thinking surely having short legs is not the best rationale for becoming a law abiding citizen. And isn’t it a little strange for her to think that a silly little game is the sole reason she has lived a life free of crime? Of course I know that there are moral and ethical reasons that should inspire one to adhere to the letter of the law. But as a shallow person I’m ok with letting fear alone be the motivation behind my good behaviour and, given my life experience, feel justified in doing so. If you are still harbouring some disbelief, let me tell you a story that will erase the doubts that are swirling through your minds.

As you may recall, I have a strong preference for small foreign cars so not surprisingly, that’s what I drive. It’s a peppy little thing that in its country of origin can grace the blacktop at 160 kph without a shudder and as a result, I am always careful to keep an eye on the needle so as not to exceed any posted limits. Which is why as I was driving through Idaho, for the sole purpose of returning to my country of birth, I was somewhat astonished to look in my rearview mirror and see the sparkle of red and blue lights rather close on my behind. As I pulled over to the side (at this point I had the border in my sights but aware of the extradition laws between our friendly countries made a hasty decision not to make a run for it), and watched the State Trooper amble towards my car, I continued to wonder what on earth I had done to warrant this rather unwelcome intrusion to my journey. Here’s how it went:

Trooper: Ma’am, did you notice the 45 mph sign back there?
Me: Yes sir, I did. But you know my speedometer is in kilometres and it’s a little hard to get the conversion just right.

He looks through the window at my dash and at that moment I think I have this one licked. Until he goes on to say:

Trooper: And Ma’am, did you happen to notice the 25 mph sign?
Me: Suddenly deflated I reply, Um no sir, I did not.
Trooper: Ma’am, you know I can cite you for excessive speed. Much too long a pause. But I’ll let you off this time with just a regular speeding ticket.

Are you kidding me! I was caught for excessive speed in a 25 mph zone! Me, who let’s the guy in the Chevy Cobalt whiz by on the highway knowing all the while that with a tap of my toe I could leave him in my dust. Me, who slows down at a stale green light while everyone else accelerates through the yellow and red, even though I know, in a pinch, I can stop on a dime. Me, who wouldn’t dream of answering a call while at the wheel yet sits patiently behind the guy at the flashing green who neglects to notice the light has changed because he is so engrossed in his seemingly “more important than actually driving” conversation? Me who has made obeying the law somewhat of a compulsion if for no other reason than not to do so will ultimately result in my capture. I think it is safe to say that I have made my case.

And so it is that I have come to accept my destiny as the “person who will always get caught” and for the most part, I’m ok with it. But once, honestly just once, I would like to have the chance to be the one that calls out “Tag, you’re it!”

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Oct 02 2012
5 Comments
Informative, Instructive

What chapter is this anyway?

BookshelfI like books. They have a multitude of purposes not the least of which is making people look good. How many times have you gone to someone’s house and, while they left the room to prepare a little something to “tide you over” as my Mother would say, taken a good look at the books they have so carefully and strategically placed on their shelves? The thing is, bookshelves are a lot like Facebook profiles, constructed to reflect the image that their owner wants to project. And it’s really not that hard. Let’s say you want people to think of you as “retro hip”. Add a few Hunter S. Thompson’s to your collection of Kerouac novels, pepper with a little Tom Wolfe and you’ve got yourself a persona. Perhaps radical politics is more up your alley. Place the three volumes of Marx’s “Capital” front and centre, surround with some Saul Alinsky, Noam Chomsky and “Plato’s Republic” just to show depth, and you’re set. Fancy economics as your claim to fame? To do this right you’re going to need some balance. Milton Friedman, Naomi Klein, Adam Smith and Marx (again) should do the trick. Throw in a copy of “Freakonomics” just to let people know you have a sense of humour. I could go on but honestly, this is not rocket science although if that’s your goal try some Sagan, Hawkings and Michio Kaku who, although born and bred in the USA will at least appear to add an international flair.

Books can also make you look smart. Unlike those electronic reading machines, when you carry a book people can actually see what you are reading. Or at least what you appear to be reading because we all know that you don’t actually have to read the book to make people think you are smart. I mean when was the last time you actually walked up to someone to quiz them about the book they were holding? It’s just not going to happen. Of course if it does happen there are some stock responses you can use to maintain the illusion. If it’s non-fiction you’re holding go with “she presents a new and interesting theoretical perspective that really ought to be considered given how tired the previous iterations and approaches to [insert topic here] have become”. That should stop any further inquiry. When it’s a novel you’ve got I suggest “I’m afraid the character development is weaker than in his past work but I’m plowing my way through hopeful that some of his literary genius will become evident in the later chapters” which will not only demonstrate your ability to critically analyze the current work but will also let people know that this is not the first and only book you have read. So be as esoteric in the selection you carry as you want and make sure to keep the cover facing out.

But what I like most about books is that they have a beginning, a middle and an end. As you read them you know exactly where you have been, and where you are going. It also means that you have a pretty good idea of when you are going to be done. Which is why I look back somewhat wistfully on the advice my son (I have two of those) gave me when I first started to write this blog. He said (and I quote) “Mom, you should write a book about being shallow, not a blog.” Because unlike a book, a blog has no natural end. As I look back at my 27 posts I find myself asking “what chapter is this anyway?”. For all I know this thing could go on forever, an especially daunting conclusion to arrive at when your Grandmother lived to be over 100 and your Mother and her sisters are respectively 97, 94, 91 and 80 years of age. The thought is so overwhelming that this week I have sought refuge in my “one week at a time” mantra.

Looks like it worked. That’s another week in the bag.

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Sep 23 2012
2 Comments
Informative

What’s in my bucket?

Red bucketThese days there’s a lot of talk about bucket lists. It seems to me that the concept became particularly popular after a movie about a couple of old guys who wanted to do a bunch of things that no one else wanted them to do. They wrote them down, hence the formation of the “list” and checked them off when they were done. More recently, on one of my frequent trips to Costco, I noticed that there are books being written about all of the things we need to do and places we need to visit before we die. I suppose they are relatively harmless, although I do wonder if identifying 10,000 “can’t miss” wonders of this earth might be a little excessive and a somewhat ambitious accomplishment to expect of anyone during one’s relatively short lifetime.

Even so, if that’s where it all ended I probably wouldn’t be writing about this today. But as I started to research the “bucket list” concept I was rather shocked to discover that the internet is chock full of instructive sites designed to not only help you build, but also track the completion of your list. As a matter of fact, and this kind of surprised me, there are sites where people share their lists to help others who I guess, can’t come up with stuff to do on their own. Seems to me that piggybacking on someone else’s list is a little suspect but, and I’ve said it before, who am I to judge? To top things off, tonight as I am writing this post, I am keeping one eye on a movie where a lovely, but of course dying woman, is managing to finish off her list in the face of a rather imposing deadline. Given the overwhelming evidence I am convinced that this whole thing has become rather ubiquitous and even so, I can’t seem to recall ever having put together such a list for myself.

I do have to admit however, that I was rather intrigued by the scope of “things to do” that my internet friends (I feel as though I can call them that since they are sharing some of their innermost, lifelong desires with me) want to achieve before they die. Certainly travel takes center stage on lots of these lists informed, I am sure, by those “10,000 places” books. Stonehenge, the Eiffel Tower and Niagara Falls are favourite, ultimate destinations for many. There are some rather mundane items, such as “learning to knit “or “eating a Pop Tart” and other more lofty goals like “donating to a women’s shelter” or “helping a homeless person”. Some people want to focus on improving themselves by “becoming more positive”, “running a marathon” or “quitting the insidious tobacco weed”, all commendable and likely realistic goals if you ask me. Unlike the person who wants to “meet a unicorn”, which I believe is much less likely to happen and can only end in disappointment and a sense of failure, leaving me to wonder why anyone would intentionally bring this upon themselves.

There are however, items on these bucket lists that I find a little confusing. Like the woman who wants to be “homeless for a week”. Seems to me that you are either homeless or you’re not. And if you’re not, well why would you want to be? My guess is that a real homeless person would never add this to their list. And what about the woman who wants to “jump off a moving train”? It wasn’t at the bottom of her list but I’m thinking that it should be because there’s a pretty good chance that it’s the last thing she is ever going to do.

After reading through all of the lists I’m beginning to think that I might be one of a very few who doesn’t have a bucket list, which probably isn’t so surprising since it’s just not the kind of thing that shallow people tend to do. Let’s face it, I have enough trouble writing this blog once a week so I’m certainly not about to commit to a whole whack of other things that I have to do. Nonetheless, I’ve thought about it and have come to the conclusion that there is one item I want to put in my bucket. And here it is. I want to win the lottery. This is not some passing fancy, a frivolous , “oh wouldn’t that be nice” wish. No, I really want to win the lottery. I know you think that the ability to accomplish this goal is out of my hands but perhaps no more so than the person who wants to “witness a miracle” which, btw, was also on the list of the dying woman in the movie, making it, in my eyes anyway, a somewhat legitimate bucket list item. Maybe it would help if I just rephrase and say I want to “witness the miracle of winning the lottery”. I figure once that happens it will be a lot easier for me to make the rest of my list.

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Sep 12 2012
7 Comments
Informative

Why I like gift cards

I love gift cards. Oh, it’s not the “getting” of gift cards that I love. For shallow people the obligation that goes along with the receiving of gifts warrants a post all to its own. No, what I love is that gift cards exist for the giving. Let’s face it, the fact that I have mastered the art of feigning interest probably means that I don’t know as much about those around me as one might hope. Honestly, do people really expect me to discern their favourite colour by simply looking at what they wear everyday? Or is it through some kind of osmosis that I am supposed to know whether it’s the “cinnamon appleberry” or “apple sunset” Yankee Candle scent they prefer? Perhaps there is a way to determine if someone likes light better than dark chocolate, but I sure don’t know how that’s done. And when it comes to choosing between red or white, well after the first glass it’s all the same anyway, isn’t it?. And so it is that the practice of appropriate gift giving has alluded me. But don’t get me wrong. It’s not that I don’t want to give gifts, it’s just that finding “things other people might like” can be so overwhelming at times.

I mean, how often do people really like the gifts that they get? Sure, they smile politely and thank you profusely for your thoughtfulness all the while trying to make themselves believe that it truly is the “thought that counts” and that maybe someone, somewhere would appreciate having “whatever this is” on their mantelpiece. As a matter of fact, this is such a commonplace occurrence that we now talk about “regifting” as if it were part of our everyday routine…like eating breakfast, or going to work, or drying cranberries. Well that last one might not be in everyone’s routine but it’s in mine as a result of a fruit dehydrator someone gave me for my last birthday. Of course there is always the “cash” option, which, while ultimately may be the recipient’s preferred choice, seems a tad crass even if you do remember to pick up one of those newly minted hundreds while making your weekly bank deposit. Because the thing about cash is, not only does it let someone know that you don’t have any idea about what to get them, it also means you don’t really care about what they get themselves. For all you know they are using the money to feed some sort of nasty addiction they have successfully hidden from you and honestly, how does that make you feel?

Trust me, the advent of gift cards is truly a godsend not only for those of us in the shallow sphere but also for those who are not yet there. Think about it. You can gets cards for almost everything these days and it’s not that hard to figure out where someone shops or eats. You can give someone a gift and not have them know how cheap you are until they get to the store and by that time they will have forgotten who gave them the card. But most importantly, and I’m pretty sure this was the impetus behind the invention in the first place, you can buy someone a coffee, or even dinner, without actually having to be there to enjoy it with them. So who ever said I was nice?

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