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Category Archives: Cultural Critique

@ Work :( TTYL

Have we all heard just about enough about the dangers, both physical and evolutionary, of texting?  Do we need another article haranguing against smart-phones on dinner tables?  Isn’t it crystal clear to us all that “living in the moment” is now only a behavior for which we pay thousands of dollars to experience in a spa? Technology has changed our orientation to the world around us.  But I don’t particularly care about all that right now.

What I do care about is personal phone calls at work.  (Quaint, isn’t it?  That sentence conjures up visions of Judy Holliday at the switchboard.)  For reasons which allude me, the technology of a “phone call” has obscured the intent of the call.  The fact that people needn’t speak to communicate, or use a telephone belonging to an employer, seems to have blurred the lines for many.  Show of hands, how many times has the clerk at your checkout register been tapping his/her acrylics onto a phone?  Have you ever entered a boutique and not heard the shopkeeper on a personal call?  The last time you frequented a restaurant with a host/hostess, were they looking down and squinting, behind their station in the dark?  There are work situations in which personal communication is not only permissible, it is probably encouraged.  I was recently on a film shoot at which the principals (waiting upwards to 15 minutes between takes) typed away, happily passing the time.  But those particular employees were not actually working while making their personal calls.  Their attention was not expected to be anywhere but on themselves.

Now here’s where the rant builds up steam.  I have lost count of how many of New York’s finest I have seen texting or making personal phone calls while working.  I suppose the traffic officer would argue; “Hey, I can give tickets and text at the same time.”  Perhaps, but you’re in uniform and; a) it is unseemly to be engaged in personal activity, and b) you are an officer, and if you’re not seeing something and saying something, why should I?  I have also seen “beat” officers, standing and texting on a corner, officers in squad cars (thankfully, the passengers not the drivers) texting as well.  Now unless that is how the police department now communicates with its officers (and for all I know, it is) I find this truly distressing.

I am not suggesting that we all don’t have personal emergencies that need attention.  But what I’ve witnessed is far more lackadaisical than an emergency would ever suggest.  Somehow, because we have the technology, we’ve decided that rules of the workplace and common decorum need no longer apply.  I’m no techie wonk, but I’m willing to posit, that we’re only going to get more little sexy toys with which to play.  Perhaps we should engage, now, in the real face to face conversations about what is appropriate and what is not.  Maybe I’m just an old fashioned gal, but I enjoy being looked in the eye, be it by a police officer or dinner companion (or one and the same, if it’s Tom Selleck in Blue Blood.)

 

 
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Posted by on November 21, 2011 in Cultural Critique

 

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The White Hood Of The Web

There have always been people crouching behind barriers and throwing stones.  In an actual battle, this strategy is in fact prudent.  But when the stones are being thrown at unwilling participants it is abusive, and when the abuser is shielding him/herself it is bullying.  (Bullying is by definition an abuser preying on a weaker person.  Hiding offers protection, exposure leaves one weaker.)

Since the dawn of time, or since there were enough people on the planet to adequately ostracize some of them; people have bullied other people.  Often groups decide that someone, or groups of someones are a threat to the status quo.  The group itself gives rise to an enthusiasm and sense of protection for the abusers.  Persecution of women in Salem, backlashes to integration and voting rights, gay bashing; we have a rich national history of bullying,  And it’s getting worse.

We are in a time of economic uncertainty, political polarization, political correctness pressure and the internet.  People have not become more or less decent, they just may feel more threatened.  Nothing gets the bully’s goat like threat.  But what brings the simmering increase of abuse to the boiling point is the rise of technology.  Blogs, Facebook, Twitter, and countless website comment sections, have allowed for a new form of white hood.  There is a vile cocktail of exhibitionism and hatred that litters the comment sections of legitimate news outlets.  For some reason web editors and/or executives are allowing their brand to be a platform for hate groups.  These posters use tragically uncreative screen names to hide behind, while rabidly posting.  The unsuspecting reader is affronted with spewing from people calling themselves by war criminal’s names.

I am willing to concede, that just like wildly offensive television programming, the viewer can avoid the offensive material pretty easily.  But I am concerned about the news outlets sense of responsibility and integrity.  Offensive and abusive comments on Facebook and Twitter can easily be blocked and ignored as well.  Even bloggers can block nasty commenters with ugly agendas.  But where does this leave us?

The fact that we can protect ourselves from these high tech hooded thugs, doesn’t address the real issue.  Why are we allowing people to hide in plain sight.  Newspapers have long made it de rigueur to only publish letters from individuals with confirmed identities.  Make no mistake, I am not advocating restraints on free speech.  Far from it.  But surely we have the technology to expose these people?  The rest of us non-software engineers, should ignore the comments (versus engaging) and not patronize sites whose management allows for this behavior.  People are entitled to be as dark and hateful as they desire, but civilized societies should not allow for them to do so in disguise.

 
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Posted by on November 16, 2011 in Cultural Critique, Media/Marketing

 

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Haul Out The Holly

The stash of Halloween candy has dwindled to the anemic lollipops and generic hard candies.  “Find gloves and scarves” is written on to-do-lists, and soups and root vegetables have been welcomed back into the home.  This can only mean one thing: it’s time to start the frenzy we politely call “the Holidays.”  Full disclaimer: I’m not sure who invented the colloquialism and I’m not entirely sure how encompassing it is.  I think it is the categorization of; Thanksgiving, Christmas, and New Year celebrations.  Like vegetarianism, the category seems pliable enough to fit the individual’s needs.  “Christmas” can be traded for “solstice” or “Chanukah” or “Kwanza.”  Which, as you can well imagine, does not help my confusion.  But no time for such concerns.  Veterans Day is almost upon us.  We must move and move fast.

Retail displays taunt us with their readiness as do television advertisements.  “You are already behind, you may never catch up!!!”  Even philanthropy (indisputably the very best product of the “season”) has jumped the gun.   The first New York Times Neediest Cases has appeared this week (originating 100 years ago on December 15th.)  I don’t think it’s anyone’s imagination that the frenzy starts earlier and earlier every year.  If only we treated our impending retirement needs in this manner!

I am no Grinch.  Really.  I love Thanksgiving; a holiday of food, family, friends, parade and pie.  I love how the world gets decorated for Christmas and everyone seems genuinely giddy.  I adore the classic movies of the “season.” My November and December would not be complete without visits from Natalie Wood (“I believe, I believe, it’s silly, but I believe”), Jimmy Stewart (“Attaboy Clarence”), the Heat Miser, Rudolph and yes, The Grinch.  I also love an excuse to dress a little fancy and feel grateful for invitations which allow me to do so.  I simply love the festivities, but not, definitely not, the frenzy.

The frenzy is responsible for people incurring consumer debt, often for gifts not needed or wanted.  At times, the consumer debt is so disproportionate to the household income, it takes almost a year to recover (and start all over again.)  Gift cards (their own evil web of exploitation) are purchased in huge amounts (evidently cash is offensive but an Old Navy gift card is not.)  Big box retailers are doing their part during these tough economic times and offering lay-away.  For a fee, you can have the retailer maintain possession of an item as you make regular payments (cement shoes are optional.)  The financial burden aside, the emotional toll this frenzy takes is absurd.  It is often the women in our culture who are lured into this vortex.  Decorating, baking, greeting cards, photos, shopping, wrapping, delivering, cooking, entertaining, usually (but not always) defaults to the woman in the household.  I am reminded of my friend’s mother-in-law, whom after hosting her very large family (yet again) one Christmas, plopped down on the couch with a large alcoholic beverage and proclaimed; ‘It’s Christmas for me too you know.”  Of course, she’s also the woman who gave my friend a Christmas theme sweater for her (summer) birthday explaining; “It’s for the holidays!”  Victim or perpetrator?  You decide.

So I will hold my head high as I resist the siren song of holiday frenzy.  I will affix my festively adorned blinders and grab all the joy of this season that is there for the taking.  I will walk past the shops, admiring their windows.  I will peruse the magazine layouts and shiny catalogs (because darn it, they’re pretty.)  I will pour sherry and pass chocolates at our family’s annual reading of David Sedaris’s Holidays On Ice as Johnny Mathis plays. And I will wish the same for you.  Happy Holidays!

 
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Posted by on November 9, 2011 in Cultural Critique, Holiday

 

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The Human Race

I am often brought to my emotional knees by displays of humanity, specifically in the form of unity or support.  I have learned to choose my eye make-up carefully when attending the Heritage of Pride parade every July.  The marching NYPD and FDNY always destroy me as I know my history and recognize the gravity of the solidarity.  This summer I was brought down by the mother riding on the back of her daughter’s motorcycle while holding a sign proclaiming her pride in her daughter.  Humans supporting humans, be it strangers, family or friends, just plucks at my heartstrings.  Yet knowing this somehow did not fully prepare me for the emotional avalanche of watching the NYC Marathon at the finish line.

I think that it is safe to assume that for every runner, there is a story.  No one runs a marathon on a whim.  I certainly expected the city flair which was on display with running; chickens, Elvis, superheros, inflatable sumo wrestler suits, ballerinas, clowns, Blues Brothers and the like.  But the degree to which runners were being bolstered (physically and spiritually) by strangers, friends, and partners was surprising.  I stood next to a man who shouted words of encouragement to every person who ran past him with a name written on their shirt.  He did this for an hour.  “You can do it Amy.”  “You’re almost there big Sal.”  “Dig deep Carl, dig deep.”  I lost count of the couples holding hands as they walked/stumbled and dragged each other to the end.  There were many “teams” running together and more often than not, there was one member being held up while others slowed their pace in order to stay together.  One man collapsed with an injured leg and could no longer walk.  Marathon volunteers picked him up and carried him to the finish line.  I saw a young woman holding a rope tied to an old man.  I saw runner guides leading disabled runners.  I lost count of how many pairs of runners had their arms around one another’s waist.  There was a military “no one gets left behind” determination on their faces.  As the sun set and the crowds of spectators thinned, a race organizer took to the microphone and yelled inspirational messages (in a good way.)  She told the runners that they were just a block away from the moment they’ve been waiting for and one that they’ll never forget.  She did this for hours.  In the dark.

It was a moving and inspirational day for this non-marathoner.  I tried not to focus on the anomaly of the outpouring of support and instead simply revel in it.  Parades, marathons, snowstorms, disaster, they bring out our best.  It’s not that we choose to not be our best everyday, it’s that most of us simply don’t have that kind of stamina.

 
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Posted by on November 7, 2011 in Cultural Critique

 

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Take A Good Look My Dear, The Old South Has Disappeared

Great Jehoshaphat, southern gentility is reported to be on the decline!  Perhaps you’re thinking that in these uncertain times, this news is hardly worth mention.  But if you believe, as I firmly do, that social graces are what separates us from the animals, you are nervous.

Gentility on a micro level makes our days less, something to endure and more, something to celebrate.  Having a door held open, versus slammed in one’s face, makes if not the entire day, at least a moment, less stress inducing and more gratitude inducing.  When a person moves out of the doorway (of an elevator, bus, train) they are communicating (for a split second) “I am cognizant of not living in solitary.”  It is our nature to want to be acknowledged, if even just physically.  No one wants to be ignored (as we learned from Fatal Attraction.)  At the root of boorish behavior is self absorption.  “The world exists to tend to my needs.”  It is not difficult to spot the trajectory of such a perspective.  If we scratch the surface of a political scandal or corporate malfeasance, wouldn’t we find this mindset?  I think we’d all agree that the root of any ponzi scheme is a desire to have the world attend to the orchestrator’s needs.  Most of us are not global economic leaders, but like recycling, don’t we want to do our small part?  Giving a pregnant woman your seat is the pebble in the lake of decency.

I am not entirely naive about the origins of southern gentility or how it can be quite manipulative.  It’s just that I’m okay with that.  Our culture is experiencing a political correctness frenzy.  We feel compelled to put preposterous positive spin on everything, no matter how misleading.  So why not employ that same smiley face/have a nice day rhetoric in being kind to strangers, or for that matter, friends?  I’m going out on a limb and suggesting that the old south is not familiar with the term “frenemies.”  Do you remember Melanie Wilkes referring to Scarlett as “spirited” bless her heart?  Scarlett had said unkind things about dear Melanie and was rabidly after Ms. Wilkes’ fiance.  What in the world would today’s Melanie post on Facebook?  I shudder to even consider.

Helping a tourist, complimenting a stranger’s scarf, holding an elevator door, making funny faces at a crying baby, demand a level of awareness.  It is hard to text, drive, drink from a sippy cup AND let someone merge into your lane.  It is equally difficult to talk on the phone, drink from a sippy cup, push a double-wide stroller, and notice the person in front of you has dropped a glove.  So if removing our plastic bubble as we go through our day is not realistic, how about doing so just when engaged in intentional social interaction?  Why don’t we start with remembering that social interactions, large and small, are not about the individual, they are about the group.  Throwing oneself a celebration (nuptial, birthday, etc.) means one is a host.  A good host makes his/her guests feel comfortable and welcomed.  A good (and even not so good) host does not invoice his or her guests and always expresses gratitude for their presence.  Like accessorizing, civility is what separates us from the animals.

 
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Posted by on November 2, 2011 in Cultural Critique, Media/Marketing

 

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