Tag Archives: shallow

Nov 26 2012
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A little sad

Sleeping in Seattle

Seattle skylinePicture this. You’re in the shoe department of Nordstrom’s on Black Friday and, in most people’s books, it’s pretty frenetic. Not that there are shoes flying everywhere or anything like that. I mean this is *Nordstrom’s* where a live pianist replaces the drone of the mood-altering Musak and shoes range in price from “ok I can do that” to “maybe not, I’d still like to eat this year”. And everything considered you gotta know that they’ve done this before because things go like clockwork. I mean you nonchalantly pick up a shoe and before you know it there’s someone with a loud speaker summoning help on your behalf. Almost instantaneously they provide you with not only the “E.T.A.” but just about all of the information you need to become good friends with your “shoe consultant” (their term not mine) which, in my case of course, might just happen. All in all, given the circumstances, it’s not a half-bad experience and, as my Mother would say, worse things could happen to you. This however, is apparently a sentiment not shared by the woman I unfortunately came to know when paying for my purchases.

I should make something clear. The shoe consultants at Nordstrom’s all work on commission which explains the great service you get and the fact that you are bound to walk out with more than you had planned. But who can’t use an extra pair or two of Tom’s especially when the design is exclusive to Nordstrom’s so there is no way you are going to pick them up once you are north of the 49th and anyway, you’ve just bought yet another few pairs of shoes for children in need. (Note: excessive shoe purchase justified.) And for the most part, they are nice people just like you and me who simply want to do the best job they can even on days like Black Friday. Which is why I found the “woman from New York City”(WFNYC), as I have now come to know her, particularly heinous.

I’m not one to make generalizations about extremely large populations of people but, according to WFNYC, all people in New York move quite a lot more quickly than the rest of us. And by the rest of us I mean (and again, I defer to her judgement here) the people of Seattle. Now I am aware that there is a slight tendency for those who are partial to life on the Pacific to be a tad laid back but I am not certain there was evidence of this in the flurry of activity I was witnessing behind the cash desk at Nordstrom’s on this, the busiest shopping day of the year. And yet, her conversation went something like this:

Shoe Consultant: Let me ring this up for you. Was there someone helping you today?
WFNYC: I can’t believe how slow things are here. Just ring the f—— thing up! (Might I add here that this is the first time since the inception of this blog that any such language has been used or alluded to but in this case I am afraid it is germane to the telling of the story so please accept my apology on her behalf.)
WFNYC: I’m from New York! I’m not used to this! Everyone is so slow here!
WFNYC: I can’t believe how slow they are here! I’m from New York! This would never happen in New York!
WFNYC: It’s so slow here! WTF!!!! I’m not used to this!!!!

Well as you can see this was a rather one sided conversation but more importantly, and what should be noted, was that the WFNYC was not only speaking like this to those of us who had the misfortune of being able to hear her but also to whoever it was that she was simultaneously talking to on her phone which solidified for me just how busy a person she really was. And how a delay of even a few seconds was eating into her otherwise “chock full of important things to do” day.

But wait. Isn’t this Black Friday? Is this not a holiday in the U.S. of A? Are not all of the businesses, other than retail closed on this day? And didn’t she mention once or twice that she was from New York? Would it be reasonable then to assume that she was not on her lunch break from work where, if she was a minute late to return would risk being fired on the spot? So where exactly was she going? Now I can’t say this for sure but given the day and the circumstances I’m thinking she was going to do more shopping. Which leaves me to wonder why it was that she couldn’t take a second or two to let the cashier know who had helped her buy her multiple pairs of boots and shoes so that sales person could be appropriately rewarded for their time. Because it seems to me that if you are sleeping in Seattle you should at least take the time to be decent to the people who live and work there.

And then a rather frightening thought occurred to me. For one split second I realized that I may just have met the person who is better placed to write this blog than I am. Good thing she will never have the time to do it.

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Nov 18 2012
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Informative

My New Friend

This week something very special happened to me. I made a new friend. A real, in person friend. Not one of those people who finds you on Facebook by searching “people who at some point in time lived in my city, went to my school, worked for my employer, and/or has a somewhat tenuous connection to me through a friend of a friend of a friend”. Don’t get me wrong. I have lots of those too which is fine since there’s not much maintenance and at least a couple of them probably take the time to read this blog each week. And sometimes it might even make sense to find friends that way.

The other day I went searching through the computer generated list of “friend possibilities” on FB and there amongst all the people who know people I know, was someone whose only common characteristic is that we share exactly the same name. Which I guess is not such a bad thing on which to base a friendship and, I will have to admit, almost made me want to send her a “friend request”. Because I started to imagine what would happen if everyone on FB friended everyone else with the same name. In my case it would generate nine new instant friendships but for some people I would imagine it could run into the hundreds. Think about it. All the people in the world who share the same name could eventually be friends. And every once in awhile they could arrange a get together in one of their cities and it would be really easy for them to meet each other because it eliminates a multitude of problems. No more embarrassing moments trying to put a “name to a face”. No more worries about where to place those silly “Hello, My name is…” name tags that often interfere with the presentation of your painstakingly put together ensemble. And if you have so much to drink that you can’t remember your own name, well there’s going to be someone around who can help you out. I’ll admit that checking in at the hotel could be a little problematic but you have to agree it does shine a whole new light on finding a place where “everyone knows your name”. But I digress.

For many of you who know me well you are probably surprised to find out that I have a new friend since you are accustomed to hearing me say that my “friend drawer is full”. And for the most part, it is. But there are times when you just have to find a little extra space, to make room for just one more paperclip in your mountain of office supplies. And this was that time. This week I made my new friend at the mall while paying for my purchases. Somehow during the usual vacant chit chat that occurs while totals are being tallied and credit cards are being charged, the cashier and I bonded. I mean really bonded. In that very short time I learned enough about her to know we have a ton of stuff in common.

She is 33 years old (ok we don’t have that in common) but she told me that she has lots of older friends so it’s ok. She has a university education and so do I. She recently moved to our city from my old stomping grounds in Ontario. She likes her new digs but she doesn’t like the cold, and I’m with her on that. She likes the same clothes that I do which kind of goes without saying since I was shopping in her store. And she loves a good sale which is how we met in the first place. This relationship moved along so quickly that before we knew it we were planning a shopping trip to Seattle which is, coincidentally where I am going this week, but since she can’t get the time off at such short notice will have to wait until next time.

Now I know some of you are thinking this may not be as real a friendship as I think it is and that I might be better off focusing on connecting with the same name people. But I’m happy with the arrangement that me and my new friend have. I mean let’s face it. She’s always going to smile when she sees me coming; she’s going to do whatever she can to help me out; and no matter what I put on, I’m pretty sure she’s going to tell me that I look great. And as Ms. Warwick would say “that’s what friends are for“.

But you know, now that I think about it, she doesn’t even really know my name.

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Oct 28 2012
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A little sad, A little serious

It’s a shallow world after all

World on rippled waterWhen “the Kev” and I first conceived of the idea of writing a book about being shallow we felt as though we were an island unto ourselves. We were younger then and living among friends who were, in many cases, on a quest to find meaning and purpose in their lives. More often than not we found ourselves sitting in the midst of those who were asking the “bigger” questions as they sought to understand what life was really about.

Meaning seeking friend: So do you think there is some kind of plan that guides our lives? That we are put on this earth for a special purpose? And if we are how do we know what that is. And what can we do to make sure we live up to our potential? Meet the expectations? Make the most of our lives here on earth?
Me: Not sure.
Kev: Beats me.

Needless to say, we weren’t always invested in those conversations.

But as we formulated the chapters of our book (yes we had chapters) we sometimes struggled to find examples that we could use to guide people into the shallow realm. For example, in our chapter  titled “Shallow TV Shows: Watch This!” it was easy enough to point our readers to “Seinfeld” because afterall, this was a show that prided itself on being about nothing. And he was our hero of sorts. But beyond that we had some trouble. Could we really rely on any of the other hits of the time to stay true to the cause and not try to get some sort of message across to the viewers? I mean Karen and Jack showed lots of promise but then the writers of Will and Grace  did that “first same sex kiss on TV” thing and there was nothing shallow about that. And while I can’t say that every episode of “Ellen” was necessarily thought provoking, her character did “come out” on that show which created quite a hullabaloo at the time. Even the talk shows were not a safe haven, what with Oprah turning her back on the exploitation of the downtrodden. Let’s face it, sometimes it felt like we were up a creek with one paddle.

Fast forward 10 years and it’s a horse of a different colour. Now I don’t want to claim that we were trailblazers, pioneers of a sort, but it does seem to me that the world has caught up with us. Perhaps we were just a little ahead of our time. If you don’t believe, here’s some proof. There are authors (and yes, I have read some of them) that describe how our brains have changed to adapt to this new world that we live in. In his book “The Shallows” (honestly, it’s a coincidence) Nicholas Carr tells us that with all of our multitasking we are developing the parts of our brains responsible for “shallow” thinking at the expense of those dedicated to more contemplative and reasoned thought. We have lost our ability to pay attention. To anything. For any length of time. We have 673 friends on facebook, most of whom we wouldn’t recognize if we fell over them. And yet they share with us their every move. Because they think we care. But we don’t. We protest injustice in 140 characters imagining that we are making a difference. And our political leaders respond in like sound bytes. And people continue to kill each other. I could go on but at the risk of losing you, I rest my case. It is a shallow world after all.

Well it looks like I have finally found them. Some deeps thoughts on being and becoming shallow. Don’t blame me; sometimes this blog takes on a life of its own. But to lighten things up I have written a little ditty. And here it is. My song. I don’t have any music for these lyrics so if you can come up with a tune that works let me know. Just don’t blame me if you spend the rest of the day bopping to beat of this drum.

It’s a Shallow World After All

It’s a world full of TV reality shows
Where we vote to decide who will stay or who goes
So they lie and they cheat
If they have to they’ll mistreat
It’s a shallow world after all.

Chorus 

It’s a shallow world after all
It’s a shallow world after all
It’s a shallow world after all
It’s a shallow, shallow world.

We don’t need to see anyone face-to-face
It’s the internet now that’s our meeting place
We don’t talk we just text
Move from one to the next
It’s a shallow world after all.

Chorus

Pretty soon we won’t know what is real and what’s not
And your best friend could easily be a robot
Who will tell you they care
And that they like your hair
It’s a shallow world after all.

Chorus: Altogether now

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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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