Jan 21, 2009
By Gale Hammond
Lest you fear that you will run out of ways to annoy your kids, I have good news. Facebook. Yes, that infamous compound word that isn't really a word at all has trickled outward beyond the world of Generation X and landed like a bombshell smack in the middle of those aging Baby Boomers.
If you think you're beyond getting the concept of Facebook, abolish that thought immediately. Additionally, never let it be said you are without friends in cyberspace. I am telling you from personal experience that one day you're minding your own business pecking away at your computer, and the next thing you know you are looking at an unexpected message saying that Ima U. Bumgardener wants to be your friend.
Well. Never mind that you haven't seen nor heard from Ima in about 47 years because there it is: you have a friend request. So, not wanting to appear stuck up, you select a link, and with that one resounding click of the mouse you are forever bonded to folks populating the rest of the world, or at least approximately 150 million of them, via the electronic wizardry of Facebook.
Talk about six degrees of separation! One minute you're downloading the recipe for Aunt Dottie's Death by Chocolate Chunk Brownies and the next thing you know you've discovered you're related to Al Sharpton.
Yes, I am on Facebook. Now I wish I could tell you what that means exactly. I know I'm not doing nearly enough to justify my taking up space in the Facebook universe. But being on Facebook allows me to see what the world is up to. Snooping, if you will, but in a GOOD way. Because there on my homepage, next to my picture (carefully selected from photos shot this millennium because no fair using your high school yearbook photo if you're drawing social security) is a box made specifically to tell everyone exactly what it is you're doing "right now."
This means I can navigate around and encounter such juicy news as, "Ben is bummed about cleaning out the garage" or "Lois is looking forward to her next latte."
This brings up an important point: Boredom. Practically the number one "don't" about Facebook is don't be boring. Now I could just jump right in there with my own announcement to the world about what I'm doing right now. I mean, I COULD say "I'm sitting here in my bathrobe and it's already 2 p.m.," but seriously, people! You don't really need to know that, do you?
Then there is Facebook etiquette. Really. In fact, I made a short reference to a couple of the rules above. Remember the self portrait? Yep, it's really not fashionable to post a picture of yourself that is so old it was snapped before color processing was even invented.
The same goes with posting remarks and recounting events that might be a little questionable down the road. For instance, "How do you like my hot new thong underwear?" accompanied by a little Facebook fashion show of same might just come back and bite you someday on your exposed little, um…cheek.
And the jargon? Yes, today your knowledge of Internet slang may be limited to "lol" (laughing out loud), but don't worry. You'll soon get the hang of it.
When I decided to give Facebook a whirl, I was delighted by all the "Friends" requests I was getting. Suddenly everybody wanted to be my friend. Now mind you, four of those requests were from my two daughters and their respective spouses so technically a family member is also a friend on Facebook.
So there I was, a newbie on Facebook, happily collecting friends. In fact, you collect as many friends as you can, enjoying your newfound popularity among your friends on Facebook.
Until the day when you venture out and begin noticing how many friends your other friends have. My goodness - I thought my 18 friends were pretty impressive - until I realized that Daughter #2 and Son-in-law #1 both have over 100 friends on Facebook! Now how did that happen? I'm twice their age but have less than one fifth of their friends? Do I even KNOW 100 people? Probably not. Bummer.
But try not to play the numbers game and just let yourself go. Write something on a friend's wall, which is not at all like "graffiti" per se. While I'd not be happy if someone wrote (or spray painted) on an actual wall of my actual house, on Facebook this is where all kinds of communication takes place.
So if your kids are on Facebook, I say go for it! Because one thing is for sure: Facebook or no Facebook, parent-child relationships still get a little snarky. When my Facebook friend Kathy posted pictures of her new granddaughter on Facebook, her daughter wrote accusingly on her wall soon thereafter. "You didn't save the photos right," she sniffed. Yes, those little mother-daughter altercations follow you all the way to the Internet.
Saturday, January 24, 2009
Sunday, January 18, 2009
Times are Tough but Jack is Back!
Jan 15, 2009 By Gale Hammond
January is one of the longest months of the year consisting of approximately 97 days. Poor January is one of those months that is picked on by other months. January is jammed between December, which has all the "good" holidays including New Year's Eve, and February, which is anticipated primarily by teenage girls hoping for "Big Things" to happen on Valentine's Day.
So if you think the biggest thrill you'll have this month is checking out the January White Sales, you are probably right. Except for one important item: check your TV listings, people! If you are a "24" fan, help has arrived.
On a related note, a new administration is about to take over the country. Barack Obama's team is lined up, ready to jump into action. And the first jump they are likely to make is halting the downward spiral of the economy.
"What on earth," you are probably thinking, "does the new president have to do with '24,' and please get on with it because I have to leave shortly to pick up some new sheets before they run out of California King fitted bottoms!"
To which I say, "Have you NEVER seen Jack Bauer in action?" He is just what this country needs. If we put Jack in charge of fixing the economy, Obama and his team could get back to playing basketball.
Now we elected Obama because this man is no dummy, and his first day on the job might go something like this: President Obama phones Federal Agent Jack Bauer. Jack answers on his high-tech geek phone, which is so sophisticated it never needs a battery charge because heaven knows Jack has no time for plugging into a battery charger. President Obama, speaking on a far less superior apparatus, finds Jack in between beatings administered to him by the CIA.
Obama: "Hey, Jack! Listen, dude, I know you're on the lam from the FBI and you just got back from Africa and all, but I wondered if you might have some extra time to sort of, ahhhhh, you know, fix the economy?"
Jack: "Of course, Mr. President, I'll get right on it."
Obama: "Thanks, Jack! I'm counting on you, dude, and remember: dude without the 'e' is just another dud."
Now if you are thinking that nobody can go it alone fixing the economy, you don't know Jack. Jack Bauer is the embodiment of the word "maverick." Jack makes mavericks look like lemmings.
And sure enough, by the time the big hand moves to the next hour of "24," Jack is onto a sinister, malevolent scheme hatched by soulless extremists from foreign hostile nations. These radicals, known as Economy Terrorists or "ETs," are fanatically sucking America dry of all its assets including stocks, bonds, 401k plans and Suze Orman's pastel leather jackets.
Federal Agent Jack Bauer has infiltrated the top echelon of these rogue schemers who hatched their plan by kidnapping and torturing a brilliant German scientist until he agreed to implant billions of tiny high-speed viruses into the shaggy scalp of Illinois governor Rod Blagojevic. Moving stealthily via wireless micro-transmitters, these auto-executed programs are hacking into firewalls and instructing bank browsers to download trillions of U.S. dollars into ET accounts overseas.
Unfortunately, ET operatives have discovered Jack's plot to shear the head of Rod Blagojevic thus revealing the sophisticated economic WMDs concealed beneath the governor's massive mane. Jack, meanwhile, has made the alarming discovery that Blagojevic is not an actual person but an android built by extremists for the express purpose of housing hordes of virus portals under his weighty wig. Bauer unraveled the dastardly scheme when the life-like automation (affectionately nicknamed "Blago") began malfunctioning alarmingly by attempting to auction off Obama's vacant Illinois senate seat on eBay. Now in desperate difficulty, Jack places an urgent call to the Capitol:
Jack: "Mr. President! We must avert a matter of NATIONAL CRISIS. Enemy ET agents have me surrounded. I most likely can't get out of this alive. There is only one way to stop the country's financial downfall, Mr. President. You must HURRY! Take the new ATM card given to you by the First Lady. ET enemy agents have scanned the codes for all the country's banks and financial institutions onto that card. If you don't take it to an ATM and activate it immediately by inserting it into the slot and entering the correct password, it'll be too late! You must ACT NOW, Mr. President!"
Obama: "Will do, Jack. Say - what IS the password?"
Jack: (sadly): "You don't know, sir? Why, it's 'maverick!'"
January is one of the longest months of the year consisting of approximately 97 days. Poor January is one of those months that is picked on by other months. January is jammed between December, which has all the "good" holidays including New Year's Eve, and February, which is anticipated primarily by teenage girls hoping for "Big Things" to happen on Valentine's Day.
So if you think the biggest thrill you'll have this month is checking out the January White Sales, you are probably right. Except for one important item: check your TV listings, people! If you are a "24" fan, help has arrived.
On a related note, a new administration is about to take over the country. Barack Obama's team is lined up, ready to jump into action. And the first jump they are likely to make is halting the downward spiral of the economy.
"What on earth," you are probably thinking, "does the new president have to do with '24,' and please get on with it because I have to leave shortly to pick up some new sheets before they run out of California King fitted bottoms!"
To which I say, "Have you NEVER seen Jack Bauer in action?" He is just what this country needs. If we put Jack in charge of fixing the economy, Obama and his team could get back to playing basketball.
Now we elected Obama because this man is no dummy, and his first day on the job might go something like this: President Obama phones Federal Agent Jack Bauer. Jack answers on his high-tech geek phone, which is so sophisticated it never needs a battery charge because heaven knows Jack has no time for plugging into a battery charger. President Obama, speaking on a far less superior apparatus, finds Jack in between beatings administered to him by the CIA.
Obama: "Hey, Jack! Listen, dude, I know you're on the lam from the FBI and you just got back from Africa and all, but I wondered if you might have some extra time to sort of, ahhhhh, you know, fix the economy?"
Jack: "Of course, Mr. President, I'll get right on it."
Obama: "Thanks, Jack! I'm counting on you, dude, and remember: dude without the 'e' is just another dud."
Now if you are thinking that nobody can go it alone fixing the economy, you don't know Jack. Jack Bauer is the embodiment of the word "maverick." Jack makes mavericks look like lemmings.
And sure enough, by the time the big hand moves to the next hour of "24," Jack is onto a sinister, malevolent scheme hatched by soulless extremists from foreign hostile nations. These radicals, known as Economy Terrorists or "ETs," are fanatically sucking America dry of all its assets including stocks, bonds, 401k plans and Suze Orman's pastel leather jackets.
Federal Agent Jack Bauer has infiltrated the top echelon of these rogue schemers who hatched their plan by kidnapping and torturing a brilliant German scientist until he agreed to implant billions of tiny high-speed viruses into the shaggy scalp of Illinois governor Rod Blagojevic. Moving stealthily via wireless micro-transmitters, these auto-executed programs are hacking into firewalls and instructing bank browsers to download trillions of U.S. dollars into ET accounts overseas.
Unfortunately, ET operatives have discovered Jack's plot to shear the head of Rod Blagojevic thus revealing the sophisticated economic WMDs concealed beneath the governor's massive mane. Jack, meanwhile, has made the alarming discovery that Blagojevic is not an actual person but an android built by extremists for the express purpose of housing hordes of virus portals under his weighty wig. Bauer unraveled the dastardly scheme when the life-like automation (affectionately nicknamed "Blago") began malfunctioning alarmingly by attempting to auction off Obama's vacant Illinois senate seat on eBay. Now in desperate difficulty, Jack places an urgent call to the Capitol:
Jack: "Mr. President! We must avert a matter of NATIONAL CRISIS. Enemy ET agents have me surrounded. I most likely can't get out of this alive. There is only one way to stop the country's financial downfall, Mr. President. You must HURRY! Take the new ATM card given to you by the First Lady. ET enemy agents have scanned the codes for all the country's banks and financial institutions onto that card. If you don't take it to an ATM and activate it immediately by inserting it into the slot and entering the correct password, it'll be too late! You must ACT NOW, Mr. President!"
Obama: "Will do, Jack. Say - what IS the password?"
Jack: (sadly): "You don't know, sir? Why, it's 'maverick!'"
Friday, January 9, 2009
It's Time to Bite the Bulgur
12:28 PM By Gale Hammond
If the members of your family are anything like mine, by now you have consumed every tired old Christmas cookie and piece of stale fudge that can be found. You dove between the sofa cushions, examined the area beneath the fridge, searched the various kitchen junk drawers and rifled through your coat pockets to be sure every last smidgen of holiday sweet stuff is gone. Vanished. Kaput.Yes, you are totally in control.
Eating healthy in 2009 is well under way, and you are the model of perfection in terms of grocery consumption. No more refined foods. Forget the sugar and the soft drinks. And fast food? Strictly forbidden.
So you are feeling quite full of yourself now that you have everything in order. Nothing but whole wheat breads and pastas will pass your lips. Fresh spinach, broccoli and fish are stashed in the fridge ready to fuel your body like a super-tuned Ferrari - once it lets go of all that chocolate and sugar and sprinkles and … oh, no.
You forgot about that red velvet cupcake with the mountainous pile of cream cheese frosting lurking in the trunk of your car - a souvenir of your niece's birthday party the other day. Darn your sister for forcing that last cupcake on you as you were heading out the door! You meant to consume the dang thing before you started your post-holiday diet but in all that sugar-haze, it flat-out slipped your mind.OK, you can give the cupcake to your dog. Or can you? It contains some chocolate, which is not so good for dogs, right? Well, scratch that idea. Just execute a supreme act of strength by carrying the blasted cupcake to the garbage disposal, plop that thing way down deep inside and turn on the water - fast! Nobody likes soggy cupcakes.
Good for you - the coast is clear. For now. Yes, there is nothing like a firm resolve to eat better, lose a few pounds and improve your overall health to make you obsess on all that junk that got you here in the first place, right? And OK, by "you" I actually mean "me." And so it was that I left the house with a sigh of relief the other day. Getting out of the house by taking the dog to his vet appointment was the best thing that could happen. No edible temptations at the vet's office, right? Unless you count the dog cookies for the canine patients but I wasn't going to be tempted by those dry things. Except if it was right before lunch …
Fortunately this trip to the vet's required a drive to Fremont to see the specialist that we visit because we couldn't have your normal, everyday run-of-the-mill dog. Oh, no, our dog has needs - which are another column entirely. But the good news was that for a couple of hours I'd get a reprieve from the dieting fixation.And things were progressing nicely. I had the pooch housed in his crate in the back seat and the radio was keeping us company en route.
Unlike TV, radio commercials don't assault you with extreme close-up burger commercials or pizza promotions, not to mention that true menace to society: chocolate.All was well as I drove up the 680 freeway approaching the Berryessa Road turnoff. Aw, BERRY-essa - kind of makes me think of those warm summer days when I'd whip up a little shortbread with berries and cream, and … oh, goodness. A sign for "Toll Brothers" - wonder what that is. Well I certainly know about "Toll" as in "Toll House cookies," those wonderful treats created back in the 1930s by Ruth Wakefield for travelers arriving at her Toll House Inn …
Whew! Almost got sidetracked by that one but there's Durham Road (and speaking of "Dur-HAM" - ever tried one of those delicious honey-baked things? That has to be the best stuff ever …) - STOP it! OK, passing the "Auto Mall Parkway" exit - nothing tempting there, right? Except for the food court at the MALL and darn - I can't remember the last time I had the opportunity to taste one of those yummy cinnamon rolls you smell the second you step inside the mall doors and - thank heaven, there's my exit.
Turning off at the Washington Street exit with barely a thought of George Washington chopping down the cherry tree and he could not tell a lie and it's definitely no lie that my mom made the world's best cherry pies, bar none, served warm from the oven with ice cream melting over the top and … oh, for Pete's sake, I need to think about healthy foods now. We made it! We are officially at the vet's office, being greeted warmly by the receptionist, and before I can stop myself I'm saying, "Hey, Diana - we'll take a couple of those little doggie cookies - to go, please!"
If the members of your family are anything like mine, by now you have consumed every tired old Christmas cookie and piece of stale fudge that can be found. You dove between the sofa cushions, examined the area beneath the fridge, searched the various kitchen junk drawers and rifled through your coat pockets to be sure every last smidgen of holiday sweet stuff is gone. Vanished. Kaput.Yes, you are totally in control.
Eating healthy in 2009 is well under way, and you are the model of perfection in terms of grocery consumption. No more refined foods. Forget the sugar and the soft drinks. And fast food? Strictly forbidden.
So you are feeling quite full of yourself now that you have everything in order. Nothing but whole wheat breads and pastas will pass your lips. Fresh spinach, broccoli and fish are stashed in the fridge ready to fuel your body like a super-tuned Ferrari - once it lets go of all that chocolate and sugar and sprinkles and … oh, no.
You forgot about that red velvet cupcake with the mountainous pile of cream cheese frosting lurking in the trunk of your car - a souvenir of your niece's birthday party the other day. Darn your sister for forcing that last cupcake on you as you were heading out the door! You meant to consume the dang thing before you started your post-holiday diet but in all that sugar-haze, it flat-out slipped your mind.OK, you can give the cupcake to your dog. Or can you? It contains some chocolate, which is not so good for dogs, right? Well, scratch that idea. Just execute a supreme act of strength by carrying the blasted cupcake to the garbage disposal, plop that thing way down deep inside and turn on the water - fast! Nobody likes soggy cupcakes.
Good for you - the coast is clear. For now. Yes, there is nothing like a firm resolve to eat better, lose a few pounds and improve your overall health to make you obsess on all that junk that got you here in the first place, right? And OK, by "you" I actually mean "me." And so it was that I left the house with a sigh of relief the other day. Getting out of the house by taking the dog to his vet appointment was the best thing that could happen. No edible temptations at the vet's office, right? Unless you count the dog cookies for the canine patients but I wasn't going to be tempted by those dry things. Except if it was right before lunch …
Fortunately this trip to the vet's required a drive to Fremont to see the specialist that we visit because we couldn't have your normal, everyday run-of-the-mill dog. Oh, no, our dog has needs - which are another column entirely. But the good news was that for a couple of hours I'd get a reprieve from the dieting fixation.And things were progressing nicely. I had the pooch housed in his crate in the back seat and the radio was keeping us company en route.
Unlike TV, radio commercials don't assault you with extreme close-up burger commercials or pizza promotions, not to mention that true menace to society: chocolate.All was well as I drove up the 680 freeway approaching the Berryessa Road turnoff. Aw, BERRY-essa - kind of makes me think of those warm summer days when I'd whip up a little shortbread with berries and cream, and … oh, goodness. A sign for "Toll Brothers" - wonder what that is. Well I certainly know about "Toll" as in "Toll House cookies," those wonderful treats created back in the 1930s by Ruth Wakefield for travelers arriving at her Toll House Inn …
Whew! Almost got sidetracked by that one but there's Durham Road (and speaking of "Dur-HAM" - ever tried one of those delicious honey-baked things? That has to be the best stuff ever …) - STOP it! OK, passing the "Auto Mall Parkway" exit - nothing tempting there, right? Except for the food court at the MALL and darn - I can't remember the last time I had the opportunity to taste one of those yummy cinnamon rolls you smell the second you step inside the mall doors and - thank heaven, there's my exit.
Turning off at the Washington Street exit with barely a thought of George Washington chopping down the cherry tree and he could not tell a lie and it's definitely no lie that my mom made the world's best cherry pies, bar none, served warm from the oven with ice cream melting over the top and … oh, for Pete's sake, I need to think about healthy foods now. We made it! We are officially at the vet's office, being greeted warmly by the receptionist, and before I can stop myself I'm saying, "Hey, Diana - we'll take a couple of those little doggie cookies - to go, please!"
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