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Hark! The Disinfectant Stings! Goriness From the Bubble Wrapped Thing!

I have to apologize to readers for such delay in getting another entry on my blog (sorry, you two). I do have an excuse though -- I had to wait until my bloody, sliced, tattered fingers, hands, teeth and gums had started to heal since Christmas morning. Looking at this photo taken Christmas evening, of our sweet little tree all pooped out from excitement, you'd never guess the carnage that its offerings had caused.

For those of you who bought toys, you know what I mean. For those of you who bought electronics, you know what I mean. I’m talking about the growing trend of making it impossible to open said gifts.

Whether it be an action figure, a video game, or a disc-man, you have your work cut out for you if you ever want your loved ones to actually enjoy them. You need to plan on spending at least an hour per toy, and a half hour per electronic device getting these freaking things open and ready for usage. Don’t forget to have on hand a box knife, scissors (useless, really, and you’ll only end up stabbing the webbing between finger and thumb), a strong man, and contractor-quality gloves. Not to mention a metal box to put the remnants in because if you choose your standard trash bag, the shards of plastic will reach out and slice you through the bag eventually.

Why this trend? Are these measures really keeping merchandise more safe from determined looters? Did people formerly rip dolls from their bubble wrap? I was under the assumption that the whole package went into the overcoat – why would a shoplifter take the time to remove the doll? And electronics – jeez, can’t they put the anti-theft device on the actual product instead of the plastic? I’d rather put up with a half-inch piece of plastic on my portable stereo than pry said stereo from foam, plastic bubble, tape, and wiring for an hour.

Let’s take a case in point: Round-up Woody doll, from Disney’s Toy Story. Woody was just like in Toy Story, same size, so cool; he had a hat, guitar, and even the pull string just like the movie. I about died laughing when I found him at K-Mart because I’m always chasing my kid around the house repeating “There’s a SNAKE IN MY BOOT” and “You’re my FAVORITE DEPUTY” for hours on end after we watch the Toy Story movies (frequently). My son has a Buzz Lightyear -- so this was a perfect find.

Christmas morning Woody was a hit. My little boy laughed when he opened it and pulled Woody’s string over and over through the package before moving on to other gifts. Eventually, the dreaded words rose to my ears: “Mommy, will you help me open Woody?”

Oh. My. God. I have never in my life been more tortured by a toy. Woody was secured in every possible way to his cardboard and plastic packaging with evil plastic coated wire tie-ups combined with little plastic plates. These plastic plates & wires were also covered with glued plastic. His hands, his elbows, his shoulders, his neck, his thighs, knees, and three different locations on his boots. He even had a plastic covered wire threaded through his belt loops. These plastic wires were bound so tightly it took me a solid five or more minutes to untangle each and every one. Then of course was Woody’s guitar (five more tie-ups) and his hat (held with that unknown sticky rubber stuff you have to rub off and also glued to package). I actually had to take several breaks and catch my breath.

All the while Woody was staring at me with those benign, wide eyes and that sweet smile that seemed to get ghastlier as each tie up cut my fingers. I had to wash my hands twice to keep Woody from becoming Bloody. Did he know the pain I was going through? Did he know I wanted to toss him to the dogs? Was he laughing at me or sympathetic? After all, it was Woody who spent God knows how long bound and gagged into his little plastic bubble, unable to wear his beloved hat or play his guitar and at the mercy of hundreds of shoppers pulling at his string. (His battery was practically dead by Christmas morning. “Yooooouurre myyyy ffaaaaavoriiitte dep...uuteeeeeee” was more like it).

At last, Woody was free and I thought I was too. Then I felt a tug at my robe sleeve: my older son gave me a helpless look and handed me his Playstation 2. “I don’t want to break it,” said he, “can you help me open it?” I stared at the boxed console, so tightly bound in its packaging the seams were practically bursting and I could only imagine the evil inside.

I looked at him, smiled & nodded, and put the PS2 on the table. I went in to the kitchen to disinfect my cuts, get some more coffee and hide my bloody hands from my children. Only four more action figures, a disc man, and several CDs and games to go. Better run to the 7-11 for some back-up first aid supplies, tylenol and a new blade for the box knife. Wait - do they sell alcohol on Christmas Day?

Posted by at 09:29 AM | Comments (5)

Tis the Season to Be.....Grouchy?

I did some Christmas shopping this weekend. I wasn't going to go "all out" this year because I really wanted to get away from the consumerism of it all. I actually believe in Christmas as a holy day, not just the Christmas morning frenzy that so many people -- Christian, Jewish, and Pagan alike partake in and enjoy. This year I really wanted to chill out on the shopping part. However, I broke my resolve when my oldest decided to move back home for a while (another blog subject in the making), and we've all been having such a grand time together the mood spilled over into my shopping and I overdid it -- for my wallet anyway.

Anyway - my point is - WHAT IS UP WITH SHOPPERS this year? I have never encountered so many grumpy, out-of-sorts, sour shoppers that I can remember in my life. I mean, why shop for people if you're not going to enjoy it? If it's such a chore and putting you in to such a pissy mood, shouldn't you reevaluate some things? I for one associate the procurement of the gift as part of the gift itself and that keeps my mood elevated to an almost giddy level.

Important to note - I have not encountered one grouchy retail worker. NOT ONE -- even the kid in the Subway shop was polite and happy. I have dealt with overworked and distracted retail workers, but they have been nothing but friendly and polite and the ones who are distracted apologize for it.

But OMG so many shoppers I've encountered have been rude, impatient, grouchy and self-serving. I had one lady behind me start to complain to me. "HMPF. This must be MY day to WAIT in LINE. Why do they only have ONE PERSON working today?" I tried to add some levity. "Tis the season to wait in line, ha ha," I replied. She snorted and started to tell me her experience at another department store where they only had ONE PERSON working as well. I wanted to ask her which ass they should pull the extra employees from, the President of the United States or the CEO of said company?
She was actually stepping on the backs of my Chuck Taylors and was pushing my purse (still on the counter) out of the way before I had my receipt tucked into it, by the time it was her turn. Hey, watch the Chucks, honey!

Also heard numerous times at Dunkins (my favorite stop while shopping) - "I WANT a medium regular coffee" -- or "GIVE ME a caramel latte." Did you ever learn the magic words, people? Why do you think that person serving you your food and drink, filling your belly and senses with good things, doesn't deserve the magic words more than anyone else? It's not like they are debt collectors. They are SERVING YOU. Take a minute to notice that they are smiling at you, saying please, thank you, and sir/ma'am. Whether or not they are forced to do so by their employer, they are still extending these small courtesies to you and deserve the same.

I was standing in the Subway line waiting my turn to order a delicious sandwich, which made me happy enough as it was, knowing I was going to bite down soon into warm yummy bread and fresh veggies with tasty sauce. I was also high from just scoring a PS2 for my oldest (he had to sell his a couple of years ago) for a wicked good deal at Bullmoose Music and tons of games for cheap. So I was definitely smiling. The lady behind me was not. We'd all been in line for about 10 minutes (a long time when you think about it) and the two kids working there couldn't have been more than 16, very gawky and earnest (read: slow moving). She was sighing heavily, clucking her mouth, etc. The man in line in front of me suddenly turned to me, stuck out his tongue, rolled his eyes and waggled his ears. I just burst out laughing. So did he. I wanted to hug him -- finally, a fellow consumer who is in a GOOD MOOD! Of course, this just made Grumpzilla behind me sigh even louder. Which made the two of us laugh even harder.

Let's try and remember that 'tis the season to be JOLLY, not CRABBY, and that all the people who wait on you in stores, restaurants, gas stations, etc have families of their own, and their jobs are helping to pay for their families' Christmas. Try and put yourself in her shoes if she's the only one at the counter and there is a line 50 feet long and the customer she's serving has three declined credit cards, and she has to call the credit company, and no manager is answering her call. She still has to be nice to you. If you can't bring yourself to be nice to her, maybe ebay is your better bet for shopping this year.

Let's also be nice to fellow shoppers. Even though I felt like smacking some people throughout the day yesterday (consumers all!) I found it much more fulfilling to smile at them instead. Sometimes, it seemed my smile or little joke actually broke their bad moods. It was contagious.

'Tis the season to give -- and one of the easiest, cheapest and most appreciated (by you and the recipient) gifts to give are a smile, a "don't worry about it," and a little slack to those who need it.

Posted by at 11:00 AM | Comments (2)

On Another Planet

I hope not too many readers are wondering where I've been... (both of you, don't fret, I haven't been sent to the glue factory yet). Clearly, I've been On Another Planet (see my vacation photo, above).

Seriously though... my organization just underwent an intense inspection and thanks to all my hard work (what?) we made it through with an "excellent" rating. I can breathe again.

I've also had other job related stressors & issues coming at me like asteroids toward my space helmet that I've been dodging -- in zero gravity, kind of difficult -- but all that is starting to cool off too, as asteroids tend to do.

Hopefully I'll be able to clear it all out of my head this weekend and return next week stomping at the gate with a rodeo cowboy on my back - I'll give him two seconds.

It's good to know, though, that some people (loose term) out there in cyberspace just have nothing, nothing, NOTHING to do at all.

Posted by at 04:31 PM | Comments (3)

CSI Madison Avenue, New York

Okay - My ego just can't take it. I'm so freakin' popular! The people who buy advertising on CSI must read my blog! They must, because they know I don't watch their ads. So they found a way to sneak ads in to the show instead.

That’s right folks. The network has stopped bothering with blurring the line between product placement and advertising and just blatantly popped an ad right into the program. Why waste the time or money? The American public, as they are so aware, are such media sheep that they’ll accept it. It will probably be common practice by next Monday’s CSI Miami episode.

I was watching my third favorite CSI, CSI New York, and frankly I was only paying attention about 2/3 of the time as I was busy potting up some amaryllis bulbs. I do this in my kitchen and have my TV in the living room so I was prancing back and forth. But, I happened to catch the ad. The two CSIs are leaving somewhere, a building (crime scene? Again, I’m only sort of watching at this point) and one of their phones ring. It’s a Coldplay song, and one CSI comments, “What’s that?” and the other answers, “It’s Coldplay, [song name here], suits my girlfriend to a T.” Or something along those lines, a clever little one-liner that got a minor laugh from the other CSI.

Immediately after this scene, the show went into video of Coldplay on stage playing that same song, and I realized the show has gone to commercial. The announcer was saying – If you want to get Coldplay’s cool new ring tone [song name here], text R-I-N-G into your Veri-Nex-US-Mobi-Go-Cingu-Virgi-Tel phone! WTF!!??

I wonder if they had to threaten, cajole, or pay a little extra to the two actors to actually work this in to the storyline. Where was their dignity? How did this make them feel? They finally made it in the business, they finally stopped having to do shitty commercials for acid reducers and headache medicine and landed a great gig on a hit show, and then one day their boss tells them, well, guys, it’s like this: if you want a storyline on this week’s show (or the next!), you’ll plug the phone company.

I know how it made me feel. Tricked, pissed off, and definitely NOT into buying a freakin’ ring tone from whatever the hell phone company was pushing it. Madison Avenue, since you're obviously reading (!), let me clue you in, you just don't get it. Since CSI NY is my THIRD favorite CSI show, I will now skip it and watch Law & Order next week instead...I could develop a daddy-crush on Dennis Farina. Or just stay in the kitchen with my amaryllis bulbs.

Posted by at 09:52 AM | Comments (3)