Note to Self: Write Clearer Notes to Self

It was jotted in my own manic scrawl, in pencil, on the corner of a scrap of paper and left on my desk. It sat there with gravity, weight. 

It Meant Something.

And it stayed there on my desktop for several weeks, patient and waiting,  because it, yes, Still Undoubtedly Meant Something. 

It was an Idea. A Spark to be fanned into a blazingly hilarious blog post, destined to make laughter pierce the air!... turn readers' days instantly better!... with readers' families and coworkers catching the mirth through happy bloggy osmosis!... 

Yes, there would be dogs smiling... babies giggling... and inevitably it would bring peace to people across the world except probably not Egypt because let's be realistic: a crappy note on a piece of paper can only do so much.

And that note, that note intended for boundless humor read:

"The Cellars Progressive Wine Sale"

...

...

Yeah: I know. I have no idea where I was planning to go with that either. And it is so. not. funny. 

The babies, they weep. The dogs, they smile not.

Egypt is still Egypt.

I might-- and I can only guess here-- have been thinking of questioning whether Progressive Wine was branded politically, or whether it was a simple suggestion that one should drink many sequential bottles at once in increasing alcoholic content percentages.

One would think, from my lack of memory, that I had tested that out.

But somehow the whole joke of Progressive Wine Differing from Libertarian and Conservative wine in, say, belief in how much involvement the winemaker should have in the fermentation process...

Well, it doesn't really live up to the whole "wishing I could buy the world a Coke/glass of Progressive Wine/beverage of choice and live in perfect har-mo-neee" thang.

And then there's that "carpool" note over there. Clearly that was written at another time, since it's in ink. But I don't carpool. I can't recall having an event to go to that required a carpool. 

Or maybe the paper is just one grand statement on designated driving.

Yes, your guess is as good as mine, folks. All I can say is, thank goodness I'm not Guy Pearce's character from Memento. 

There'd be no telling what I'd find tattooed on myself.

Question for the day: Do you ever write yourself notes and then get amnesia?

And by the way-- who are you people?

Why StumbleUpon is Like Heroes

Flashbacks... Flash forwards... Flash sidewayses, fer Pete's sake... Deja vu and deja vatthefrickisgoingon...

A day or so ago, members of BlogCatalog began a thread asking questions about the mysterious machinations of StumbleUpon.

And as minds who together had unravelled the puzzles of SEO... Of Facebook virtual farm animal addiction... Of how you can actually use Twitter for something other than talking about your morning Froot Loops...

This crowd was strangely stumped.

And it occurred to me that StumbleUpon is pretty much the social media version of the TV series Heroes. (Or if you want to go Old School-- Twin Peaks.) Sure, you like it, it's compelling. It might even do something positive for you.

But you're really not sure why, or how you even got there.

• Flashbacks, flash forwards and flash sidewayses. Time is fluid. Heroes will pop you from ancient Japan to futuristic Times Square and across to a Middle American diner. Then, next season, you'll do it all over again, but fresh and new. StumbleUpon will send you to posts you've never seen before, places you've already reviewed, pages you didn't like the first time, and the same topic but different variations in mind-bending order. Where are you now and how exactly did you get to a site devoted solely to miniature blinged-out dog collars? Who knows?

• Death is Fleeting. Does anything really die? In Heroes, characters you thought had snuffed it get resurrected through some twists of time and fate. In StumbleUpon, old, creaking posts thumbed-up months ago but which never saw traffic, pop-up out of nowhere and send hundreds of visitors your way. Why? There are no clues. You see no new upward thumbs. You just have to hope it's not thumbed down-- or, say, cancelled-- before you make sense of it.

• Simple Is More Gooder. StumbleUponers tend to like stuff you can skim. A quick pic. A short cartoon. A bulleted list. Something that shocks. Or rides up and chafes. This earns the traffic and the stars. Heroes ratings took a dive once viewers realized theoretical astrophysics had fewer twists and turns, and everyone started watching something that didn't involve brain yoga. Like How I Met Your Mother. There is only one question in that program, and that can be dragged out for another seven seasons or so.

• Where Does the Power Come From? In Heroes, character have superpowers. And whether it's due to genetics, or the eclipse, or government conspiracy, or not enough tinfoil hats, it's hard to say. Even if we figure it out, it will likely change by next season. In StumbleUpon, a post can be stumbled by two different people. But one will take off like Lance Armstrong after a power bar. And one will sit there like Rosie O'Donnell after a Vegas buffet. The StumbleUpon formulas have deemed some folks more powerful than others. Presumably if you Stumble with diversity, you'll earn the power of flight. But witnesses can't quite confirm it.
  

• Nothing Is What It Seems. Or Is It? In Heroes, double- and triple-agents abound, and there are more red herrings than in a Norwegian fishermonger's freezer. In StumbleUpon, the Stmp.stumbleupon.com server keeps showing up in my stats doing what looks like page indexing. What is it doing there? Why has it come? Is this good? Is this bad? It looks hopeful. But are you StumbleUpon people on my side, helping my site? Or are you working for the powers of thumb-downingness? We'll have to stay tuned to find out.

For you folks, do you use StumbleUpon and does it leave you scratching your head? Or are you simply finding the fun surfing the blogosphere, surfing the world?

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Humorbloggers
Humor-blogs

Ten Things I Just Don't Understand

Okay, well, there are a LOT of things I don't understand. In fact, I spend much of the time lost, confused and drooling. But some things cross my mind more often than others. And I thought I'd share just a few of those today...


1.) Short-sleeved pullover sweaters.
Why do we need sweaters with short sleeves? You want to be warm, but only a little warm.... Your torso gets chilly, but your arms drip with sweat.... If this is the case, you don't need a sweater, my friend. You need to see your favorite health care professional and discuss this with them. And please do it-- do it NOW.


2.) People who call and ask, "Guess where I am?"
I saw this most recently at a Greek food festival, and given that there was loud bouzouki music playing, the recipient of the call had only two logical responses...

One being "the Greek festival," and the other being "trapped inside Monty Python's Cheese Shop Sketch."

And why do friends and family call us, but make us guess? Usually it's because they're somewhere they think we'd want to be, but aren't. "Guess where I am? I'm calling you from beside the pool!"

My parents "guess-where'd" me once to tell me they were in Disney World, which I love. Nobody ever "guess-where's" and tells you they're being audited by the IRS, or just broke something in Aisle 3 of Wal-Mart.

And to think these are the people who supposedly like us.


3.) One shoe on the side of the road.
We've all seen it. You're driving and there it is... one shoe just sitting there on the berm of the highway. What situation leads to this? If it falls out of someone's bag, how come the second shoe never, ever falls with it? Or other items? Where is the second shoe?


4.) How many Land Before Time cartoons will be made before a meteor impact?
I think they're up to at least 20 or 30 of these movies now. How long do these dinosaurs get to continue on before Cera and the gang finally become oil? Just askin'. Anyway, even as they're being pumped from the earth's crust and on their way to being refined, I'm sure they'll SING about it.


5.) Hemingway's "Hills Like White Elephants."
Okay, so I'm going literary here, but we read this several times in college, where it was held up as one of the finest short stories ever. Me, I feel bad even saying this, but I just never could get into it. There was so much that seemed so vague and open to interpretation that I always felt I was being conned. That this was some great practical joke devised intentionally by ol' Ernie to keep us guessing.

Also, I made the mistake of telling one professor, in a moment of utter frustration and inappropriate candor, that if I wanted to read something that was minimalist and mainly dialogue, I would read one of the Gregory MacDonald "Fletch" novels...

Um... I didn't get an 'A' in that class.


6.) Medications where the side effects are worse than the original ailment.
I know people have talked about this before. But really-- you have allergies. So you take a medication with a side-effect of "brain hemorrhages" and "blister-like pustules." PLUS, the possibility of nosebleed, sinus congestion and sore throat.

Er... If you had allergies, you probably already had the nosebleed, sinus congestion and a sore throat.

And NOW, WITH the medicine, you might also look like a zombie from House of the Dead 4. So, you know, that's something to look forward to, right?


7.) When Exactly Word Verifications Ceased to Look Like the Alphabet.
You know what I'm talking about-- those letters some websites require you to enter to prove that you're not a robot?

Well, is it me, or are those letters getting more and more distorted? It's like trying to read newsprint on Silly Putty in a Funhouse Mirror. Why is this happening? Are internet robots Hooked on Phonics now? Have they been hanging on Elmo's every word? Or do I just need a new contact lens prescription?


8.) When I turn the car alarm on and my car honks, I honk back at it.
I know, I am a total freak. But when I turn my car alarm on, and it says, "Hoot!" more often than not, I 'hoot' in response. What is wrong with me? Why do I do that? The only thing I can think is it's genetic. My mother used to make sounds at trains as they went by. She also mooed at cows. It makes no sense, but there ya go. I blame Mom.


9.) Sit-down restaurants where you have to order before you sit-down. Fuddrucker's is one of these. Hoss's and Ponderosa, too. They're not quite fast-food restaurants, and they have a menu up on the wall with every different dish in the world on it. But you have to decide what you want in 30 seconds in a narrow hallway, with a line of large, ravenous, better-prepared diners barreling down on you.

I don't work well in these situations. I become overcome by Acute Menu Panic. I'm not familiar with the selections, I don't know what I want, and even if I do know what I want, I forget it the moment I no longer can see the billboard-sized menu looming over my head. How has everybody else but me found their favorite meal there if they never spent more than 30 seconds looking at the menu? It's too much pressure!


10.) When Actor Ed Norton Suddenly Became Edward Norton
I'm almost certain, when he first started acting, Edward Norton was referred to as "Ed." Because I recall thinking at the time, "Wasn't that the name of the character on The Honeymooners?" Does anyone else remember this?

Because somewhere along the way, I believe he became "Edward." "Edward," a serious actor and sometimes bad-guy. Edward Norton, the Incredible Hulk. When did this happen? Surely he didn't get well into his career and realize he was named for a popular 50s sitcom character. This couldn't have been a SURPRISE to him. But alas.

So where will he be in another 5, 10, 20 years? I'm thinking Edward J. Bartholomew Norton III-- Esquire, and he'll be doing ads for reverse mortgages or pharmaceuticals. But that's just a guess.

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Well, gotta go. I'm off to run some errands and hoot at my car.

I hope you all had great Memorial Day and are enjoying the week so far.


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I hear Edward J. Bartholomew Norton III, Esq. eats at Fuddruckers while wearing short sleeved sweaters and surfing Humor-blogs on his PDA.