To be a Fly on the Wall

To be a Fly on the Wall

http://www.cynicalbuzz.com

How can it be ONLY loud obnoxious flies get in the house the one time you actually open the door.

No other creature, animal or insect in the world spends their entire existence waiting for this opportunity to rush in at the most opportune moment to disrupt my sleep during the night.

Seriously, not water buffalos, not GEICO geckos, not even Aflac ducks ever get in my house.--JUST a fly. I need to know. Do they hang out on the outer edge of a door and pray for a knock on the door from the UPS driver awaiting a signature?

I will not surrender. I will not let this minuscule creature of other people's demise win. Because for only $1000 I have found a solution. I combine my Dyson Air Multiplier in front of my face (um.. just a quiet cool fan) and Bose noise cancellation headphones (um..a device which fits around your ears that makes you look "SPECIAL" to drown out any sound including a atom bomb.

Hours later, I wake up peacefully with an ear ache, wind blown hair and red, dried eyes...BUT, all with a victorious grin knowing this one fly buzzed all night long without affecting my sleep. aw, the sweet taste of victory, "COUGH, COUGH". oops, found the bugger. FML

Questions for the day

Questions for the Day

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As I sit down on my return flight from Miami. I ask myself (actually others) some very important questions:

Why am I the only one who remembered to bring their LITTLE official zip lock bag for toiletries and not the Janitor in a Drum size bag which can hold a small pond? “Honestly, if you have to bring THAT size jar of Vaseline, you need more than one security line to be concerned with.”

Why am I the only one who remembers to have carry-on luggage which officially FITS in the carry-on storage area and NOT a duffel bag that could transport two bodies and a dog? “No, NO..it will not fit under the seat in front of you or MINE combined. Check it or forget it!”

Why am I the only one who remembers to remove my shoes/belt or heavy metallic items in security line BEFORE someone tells (YELLS) me TO. “Yes, yes, Mr Leisure suit Larry, cell phones will always set off flags and alarms in this security minded era..even your cheap one.”

Why am I the only one who can find their SEAT NUMBER (it is numbers and letters, not hieroglyphics people) and do you truly forget which symbol is identified for aisles versus windows (hint, the window shape has not changed in 85 years and the aisle is the OTHER ONE)

Why am I the only one who remembers to bring something to read or listen to so you Do NOT have to talk to ME for 8 hours? I never thought I would know so much about someone’s husband’s cousin’s neighbor’s dog. And SHOOT me if I ask you to repeat the story.

Why am I the only one who remembers to NOT eat airline hamburgers? Do you truly think it is going to remotely taste like something you have had before? Pre-packaged nuts are the only true edible item on the flight, unless you count what you bought at Duty-Free.

And why O why.. am I the only one who remembers it could be worse, I could have to LIVE with these people.

FULL SERVICE STATIC AT THE SELF SERVICE LINE

FULL SERVICE STATIC AT THE SELF SERVICE LINE

http://www.cynicalbuzz.com

Sounds like the best idea yet. Eliminate the cashier and let me scan and pay for my "STUFF" with a swipe of a card. Ahh, the EZ PASS for the pedestrian of the shopping lanes. What a concept...right?

NO! The biggest issue isn't that innovative idea, but the fact, the self checkout line at a Home Depot or a Walmart is ONLY AS FAST as the neophytes shopping before you .

OMG, LADY!!! the machine has it spelled out for you in not only BLACK AND WHITE, but in BRAILLE, it TALKS to you, it has a HELP button and it even has the bags OPEN there for you to put your 50 pack of batteries in.

PULEASE Mister, It's a scanner, not a MRI machine, swipe the freaking bar code, but don't hold it there until the new year.

YEAH YEAH. The Bar code...that thing that has attached itself to every item since 1972. OK, now repeat after me, each time it "BEEPS" you get charged. So right now you owe $450.00 for that pack of gum you keep swiping as your OCD kicks in at just the wrong time of the checkout process and MY life. It is paid for. I promise you and if not, I'll buy you a pack of gum for MOVING YOUR HUSH PUPPY shoes a little further down the line and leaving the premises without hitting that "help" button again.

Barcode you ask again? "Yeah yeah, the Morse code THINGY that is on the side of your paint can. YO, Norman, do you really need to use that much EGGSHELL paint at your age anyway? TRY white, your eyes can't be that sharp, you just hit the ASSISTANCE button five times to ask if your credit card will work in this type of machine. No, of course YOURS won't work. You have the only credit card out of the 400 million Americans who has a Visa that won't swipe in a VISA branded slot.

Seriously, if you don't move your corduroy brushing self out of the way, I am going to break down and yell "THIEF" because you forget to scan the two bags of SALT in your cart because its bigger than the glass you would have to lay it on."

Three steps is all it takes My Dear Hindrance of the Shopping Highway.

1) scan the item

2) place in bag

3) swipe your card and approve.

Any more steps than that and you can join those drivers in the EZ PASS lane that didn't read those two miles of signs ahead of time in NEON LIGHTS that said, "EZ PASS HOLDER ONLY" lanes to the left.

There is truly another world for you to shop in and it doesn't include me. I would tell you to stay home and shop online, but you would be waiting impatiently for the purchased items to be expulsed out of your printer paper slot.

Next time a store wants to make my life easier, don't try to AUTOMATE, TRY ELIMINATE......By IQ.

Anyone who can't figure out how to check out should be required to pay a premium for a personal shopper and stay to the rear of the store until the rest of us leave.

Now that I'm finally ready to check out........um...does anyone know what "ITEM NOT RECOGNIZED MEAN?" As there is no way I'm hitting that 'assistance needed' button after that long rant. ;)

Predictive Analytics of the Day

Predictive Analytics of the Day

http://www.cynicalbuzz.com

"promising 3 inches...guaranteeing 6 inches....predicting 12 inches" In my conservative opinion, I think it's time we regulate the meteorologist industry to rethink their vernacular before they go on TV and forecast a big blizzard or better yet, they should keep their excited opinions about their personal depth perception to themselves.

Is there any other career where you can miss 7 out of 10 times at your craft and still excel at your job (not including baseball)? Please, please!! In my next life, pay me to be a weatherman for Phoenix or San Diego or Bora Bora where I stand there for 10 minutes a day and go. "It's going to be a pretty nice day. There were worries about seeing a cloud or two, but that was only a heat spot on the Doppler radar. Tomorrow should be more of the same and the weekend looks ...well...um...pretty darn good too."

I TOO, want to stand in front of you and point to a digital map which only, I, interpret as good, bad or indifferent based on some "neat charts". I want to wear bad blazers, flashy ties and bonded teeth to tell you what you already know, "It is COLD, WARM, HOT" or the all time favorite as they point, "if you are HERE...you should be feeling some rain in your area about now."

Yes, sign me up to have 'some good ole banter' with the sports guy next to me who is reading the old news and scores off the internet with a clip-on tie and my co-anchors who are excellent ..I MEAN..excellent at reading scrolling copy at 45 wpm. But please correct yourself when read, "Afghanistan Militia" when hyphenated. It's sounds so wrong when you say, "Afgan and Stan licious".

My next life, I promise to pay more attention to air pressure, barometer readings and jet streams as I will ask my future parents to name me Storm, Chilly, or Rain to ensure my career as a futurist of precipitation does not go unnoticed, unrewarded and to guarantee I get a cool red jacket with blow dry hair to wear on the air to tell you to "HAVE A ____ DAY", depending on the inches of course.

Feeling Helpless with the Help Desk

Feeling Helpless with the Help Desk

http://www.cynicalbuzz.com

For my vacation day, I decided to not travel to far away places, read a good novel, or sleep past 7 am. No, that would be smart. For my day off, I decided to be productive, get up early and clear up some bills, tasks and paperwork from my last month’s trip to my doctor.

All morning, I’ve been on the phone with a helpdesk “automated” operator. How do I know she is a machine? Because she can’t be rattled, insulted or verbally abused. I know, I’ve tried. No matter what words I throw at her, enunciate, spell-out or scream; she stays calm in her monotone metallic response mode and calmly makes me spend hours on a phone which would be solved with a 5 minute live operator just saying “YES, you owe the whole bill thingy, no partial payments allowed. Pay it or we’ll confiscate your house.”

REALLY? Isn’t that all we want, resolution, closure and some truly LIVE person we can curse at afterwards and thank them for abusing you in real time? Is that asking for too much in my time of disgust? I can’t curse at R2D2 with a voice.

I have repeated my option “BILLING ISSUES STILL” and she has politely asked me if I’m approving my “LIVING TISSUE WILL?”

She keeps asking me for my “PASSWORD” as I told her that she erred with the "LAST WORD” I constantly repeat my “RECENT ADDRESS” but she keeps referring back to my diagnosis of “DECENT STRESS”. Stress?...Oh, maybe just a little right now…Keep talking JUDY Freakin’ JETSON.

So now I’m completely lost, I can’t reset my password, I had no idea my 2^nd dog had a middle name. I am only 50% sure of my state of birth or my password reminder 7-digit code that includes upper/lower letters and numbers.

I inhale and try to breathe; I can only ponder if it’s a felon to kill a computerized voice that doesn’t listen to me either phonetically or literally. As I have now decided, if I want to be ignored to this extent, I’ll just go back to work.

Neighbor Can You Spare Some Time

My favorite elderly neighbors asked me to come over yesterday to help them with some new FANGLED technology. I gratefully ran over salivating hoping to assist Mavis and Eddie with perhaps a Bluetooth music system or HDTV linked to their netbooks.

As they graciously opened their door like their long lost son just returned from the war (I saw their furniture..we’re talking the Civil War), I see a box holding a—cassette loading refurbished answering machine and a VCR on a TV which was YES, you guessed it, still flashing 12:01 12:01 12:01 12:01 12:01.

My current age must not have resonated with them as they offered me cookies and milk as I set up their answering machine, even know I could swear I smelled their afternoon ritual of whiskey sours seeping through the air.

I tried to simplify the process of them recording their message into the machine even testing it with them a few times before I felt confident they could handle it.

Before I left, I adjusted their MAGNAVOX VCR clock and set the timer so they can tape their GUIDING LIGHT soap opera but I just didn’t have the heart to tell them it’s being cancelled in a few weeks.

That evening, I felt obligated to call to see the technical progress of my “greatest generation” and their giant step into the 19.5th century as the answering machine kicked on.

Then….the love I felt knowing they followed my directions to the every detail was just overwhelming.

“HI…YOU HAVE….REACHED THE CIRELLI’S…." “It’s not working Eddie..the light isn’t on..” MAVIS, SSHHH….ERIK TOLD ME THAT IT ONLY NEEDS TO FLASH ONCE,…IT IS ON………PLEASE LEAVE A MESS---" “Eddie…I don’t think that is the light he was talking about.. He was talking about the VCR light” "MAVIS.. I KNOW WHAT I’M DO---.BEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEP”

Mmm…the only message I could leave was. “Your answering machine sounds perfect. I hope you enjoy your PROGRAM tonight” as I rushed to send their phone number to everyone on my twitter account because no one is going to believe this message unless they hear it for themselves.

Taking the wrong way on the right-a-way

Love my gadgets. If it's digital or has an LCD screen, I'm thrilled. If it can complicate my life with the promise of cleansing my frustrations, I buy it without remorse. Early adopter? HA. I buy the gadgets before they go on sale and pay 50% more than if I waited 24 hours.

The current GPS (Gentleman's Perception System) in my car has helped me many times navigate through the trials and tribulations of NYC and beyond. I've used it to find restaurants, gas stations and the nearest bookstore.

However, I recently used it to find a office address and ended up going down the wrong way on the one way street.

No, I'm not blind nor am I ambivalent to paying attention to HUGE SIGNS that say WRONG WAY, I just paid a hell of a lot of money for this thing and DARN IT, if it says to turn LEFT with a convincing voice, I'm going to do it without hesitation and get my money's worth.

Sadly, the sign was posted to ensure traffic in a SCHOOL ZONE would be flowing accordingly to the children crossing the busy road during that time of day.

As scores of middle school children watched in dismay that my vehicle was passing them in the opposite direction of the buses, A young adolescent screams out,

"HEY, IT'S A ONE WAY YOU %*$(#*@."

Aww, the intelligence of our youth so aptly expressed in such a succinct way. I continued to pass him (cause my GPS still told me I still have 400 ft to go before turning right on Elm Street) so I responded back in the only way a shameful, embarrassed mature man would respond.

"HEY SMART *$$, I'm only going ONE WAY."

Key Master of Suburbia

Excuse me. I see you trying to find your wallet and all I can say as you sort through your faux Coach bag is, "Where you going with that tool belt of metal and plastic?"

Schneider from "One Day at a Time" only had 5 keys and he was the building superintendent for that whole building.

Please, I'm listening. What do you need other than a house key, a car key and your HEALTH FITNESS plastic mini membership card? Serious, I saw your grocery cart, I know that COSTCO card is used way more than that ExerWISE tab and your key chain on a leash is equivalent to one average size dumbbell as it is.

Let me help. Keep your garage door opener in the car: Dump the female version of a Swiss Army knife as it has no purpose other than to create havoc at security in the department stores.

Remove those souvenir items along with your rabbit's tail and your car will get another 10 mpg per tank of gas. Seriously, how often do you really open a beer bottle while you are driving anyway?

Those other keys. What are they good for? Absolutely nothing. There is just no possible way anyone in this world gave you access to anything other than your souped up 1999 Honda Prelude.

I truly thought when you pulled it out, you were setting up a Coleman Family Tent for six and your keys were the support poles. I haven't seen that much junk hooked together since MacGyver went off the air back in '92.

Go home, unload that knapsack with anything other than the key to the car you are actually driving and perhaps you won't spend the next few minutes in front of me complaining that your have lower back problems.

Better yet. Here's $25.00. Buy your self the Clapper for every electronic item you own and begin your new healthy new year's resolution by working on your upper body. Blog On...Blog Off.

Park for your Car, not your Ego

No. You didn't just do what I think you did. What possessed you to think that your car is "all that". I'm watching you. I shaking my head hoping you just started driving yesterday. Better yet, tell me that a bug crawled up your leg and you avoided crashing by parking and swatting insects simultaneously.

OH, I recognized you now, you are the same guy who takes up a seat and a half on a plane while never removing his elbow from the middle armrest for 4 straight hours.

Yes YOU. I don't ever forget an act of selflessness. It is hard to forget someone when their whole life they have been the ones cutting in front of us in lunch lines at school, in concert lines and I know later in life you will be cutting in front of us for social security checks because the Ultimate Fighting Championship is on Pay Per View in an hour.

But this parking scheme episode where no one will be able to park within 100 ft of you is beyond an acceptable act of etiquette. Please tell me again why you have one suction cup on your windshield for your EACH of your satellite radio, GPS, radar detector, hands-free speaker, and one for your 2003 version of a Palm Pilot.

It epitomizes your life. From now on, the rest of us in your world will try to make your life comfortable in your own pathetic way.

When you sit at a restaurant, we'll give you an extra table for your ego so we don't scratch our lives with yours while we laugh at your V-neck sweater vest that was last worn during a Star Trek Convention.

When you walk in our offices, we'll give you an extra chair just for your stupidity to have a solid base not to overtake its counter of your ignorance and bad taste in cologne. What is the scent you are wearing.... "NIGHT PASTURE"?

When you drive on your road, we'll give you one extra lane to ensure your bad taste in vehicles don't stink up the interstate and our choice of transportation as we check off your air freshener as road kill afterthought.

When you stand in line for the bathroom, we'll give you an extra stall so you can have room to grow....and hope you understand concepts of overcompensating for your shortcomings.

But in the end it will all work out. As when you pass away from your diluted, customized, sugar coated world, we will also provide you an pimped out coffin with an armrest and two burial plots parked diagonal for your eternity filled abyss world of emptiness. Oh wait, that is just your car that was converted instead of recycled into next year landfill.

Can you STOP hearing me now?

Enough. Turn it off. Right now young lady. Yes you who has pimped out her black phone with a pink case and sparkles...Yes you too, dude with the 'tude. You are all sitting together quietly, socializing and I'm assuming that means you know each other.

So turn off the cell and the text messaging at least for the small moments you are here and pretend your mouths actually work without a silicone and aluminum candy bar up against your cheek.

One hour. Try it...Last one who gives in and touches their phone, I'll give an iTunes gift card with Leona Lewis loaded on it while she sings up to 3 octaves of no words just for the sake of noise.

Two seconds later.

BZZZZ.. wow, that wasn't even close. You all lost and it wasn't even a text message or ring tone that wore you down. It was the oven's buzzer telling you that your ThreeForALL appetizers are ready.

Excuse me? Did you really just tell me to TEXT OFF?

Now that is a fine way to speak to your elders who actually appreciate that texting is valuable when you CAN'T speak directly to someone or when you know they will get the message later-Not when they are sitting inches across from you toasting the new episode of Gossip Girl.

Dr. Martin Cooper, inventor of the cellphone, wasn't dreaming he would create such a social abyss back in 1973. He just thought it was cool to order pizza from the road before he got home from work.

The first text message ever sent was "Merry Christmas" back in 1985...but of course J. Audestad who sent it used "xmas" to shorten his effort before his manager came in to catch him texting on the job.

I may not understand the value of texting to someone sitting right across from me. But understand this, I can blog, tweet, post, txt, play music, video, send & read emails like the Tasmanian Devil on Red Bull, but I also don't use it to overcompensate the fact I still like people. Maybe not YOU five kids sitting there dissing your parents. But to the most part, I still want to have a conversation with humans that doesn't include:

"wot up?" Translation: "Good evening, how was your day? Anything interesting you wish to share?"

"nada WRUUT" Translation: "thank you for asking. My day was absent of any particular details worth sharing but what are you considering for an evening of activities tonight?"

I lv txtng, but i so mis wrds n thghts with eyes and voices tht flow wit it. GTG.. My apitzr z getn cld

Let's go to the video tape

Tell me again why you are protecting your store's most valuable assets with a security camera/image that can't determine if the suspect is actually a person or a goat. Last time I checked, even my cell phone's video capabilities can identify and clarify a person from 100 ft. to convict them of shoplifting.

Today, there are cameras that can be either a stand alone device or connected to basic computers that are visually comparable to HDTV for under a few hundred dollars.

Why do I turn on the news and see less than a shadow of a person hit an elderly person, rob a 7/11 or steal election signs from yards from an image that has more distortion than a Zapruder film clip of a Paris Hilton night out.

What are the authorities suppose to do with this pin-hole camera view of the crime scene?

OFFICER, "What did your security system capture on the suspect?"

STORE MANAGER, "uh...he is a person....and he I mean she..I mean he is wearing clothes..and he walks with two legs...and....they left with um..stuff. lots of stuff."

OFFICER, "Any distinctive marks that we can gather from the video?"

STORE MANAGER, "Yes..definitely, He was wearing a dark sweatshirt and some other clothes. OH OH..wait..I can also see that he likes to wear hoods...DOES that help officer?"

I have some great advice for anyone who has one of these security cameras propped up in the top corner of their store, lobby or warehouse. Don't even turn it on. Save a few bucks on electricity and buy a sign instead that says (We have attack dogs on site)

You have a better chance identifying the elusive Jack the Ripper from over a century ago than you do using this grainy, .0456 megapixel camera to help keep someone from stealing your Swedish Fish from the candy aisle.

"Quick, look, the suspect smiled. Oh wait, nevermind....that was just the low bat warning light."

It's a Numbers Game

What’s your number?

Quick, other than your home number, recite the next five numbers listed in your cell phone.

NO, NO, not the speed dial number 1-9. We are talking 10 digits my friend. Ten numbers that are forever forgettable unless you are Rain Man. Cell phones have given us 24/7 access to our friends and loved ones. But it has done permanent damage to our chances of ever winning on a game, I like to call, Cell Phone Go Fish… “um..does your number have any 3’s?”

Pop Quiz: You are on vacation without your phone charger as your cell just went dead. Call your voicemail from a pay phone to see if you missed an important call. (OH..it’s that Time Machine looking booth behind the liquor store takes that scarce monetary coins called quarters)

Can’t remember the number? Perhaps you should try your sister in Seattle? I know that it has a 7 in it. How’s your daughter’s cell phone number coming? Any clue?

Just what I thought.

We have become slaves to our own digital demise. With a combination of everyone having home, office and cell numbers to remember, we trust our silicone friend with every important digit instead of even trying to contemplate a short term memory of the numbers.

You can’t walk past five people in public without two of them holding a phone to their ear. The other three are texting the other two to return their text so they can call their friends to text the message they received yesterday from the VM that was part of the picture message that never got forwarded to the mobile IM message that was emailed to their mobile address, while it simultaneously updated on their Facebook account during the download of a new ringer from Beyonce as they text vote their opinion to who should be the next American Idol.

Ahh. But I digress as usual.

I have solved the problem. I just print out all the numbers on a lined piece of paper that has letters to organize by name.

Um. why yes..it is called an address book, but mine is really really small and I only use it when my cell phone is dead without a charger.

Does anyone have the number for Dominos?

Listening to the Blues

I admit it, I'm not just an early adopter of technology, I am way past the brink of geekdom with just a shade of respect. From BlueRay to Bluetooth, from Smartphones to VOiP, I like my digital toys and how they become smaller and promise to help me do more with less.

Hence my hesitation to be a slight bit tone deaf about the "wearable" wireless headsets" There has to be some etiquette to avoid the inappropriate times of looking like a Cyborg stage hand at a Star Trek convention. I agree, in the car is more than appropriate, though in a four- star restaurant when you are NOT suppose to use it is not. I can't stomach the fact I'm watching that growth pulsing a blue LED out of your ear as I wait for my Chilean sea bass. Walking in a grocery store, hands-free is fine with my Miss Manners, especially if you have a cart and three kids asking for pop tarts every other aisle. But walking around your child's soccer game screaming "pass it my Joey, he's open" while your hands are free to express your parental frustrations conveys "Secret Service Wannabe" from the outside. (just my opinion of course).

Perhaps you could hear the public's laughter echoing your technology faux pas if you didn't have a huge plastic Q-tip exuding from your lobes when you should be focusing on the urinal in front of you. These techno wonders were made for you to laugh at life's tasks, not for us to laugh at your silicone earrings .

The radio is always greener

I'm spoiled. Love the music. Love that I can store an infinite amount of music on a piece of plastic the size of cassette tape (sorry, but I find humor in that).

All my favorites from the latest artists I downloaded last night to my high school classics I bought years ago to the hard-to-find, unique songs I would never have bought if I had to actually buy the entire album for one tune or search for that song in a store.

So why am I miserable? WHY do I shuffle through my iPod 50 or 60 times out of 2000 available from songs "I" chose myself, before I find any ONE song I want to hear?

The one tune that is going to get me to the next destination; the next "ADD" moment.

Worse yet. Wouldn't you know it, when I hear a song on the radio that I know IS already on my iPod, I ask myself, "I LOVE that freakin' song...I wonder if its on my iPod so I can listen to it." Never fails.

I've come to the conclusion we could have our own personal band playing for us nightly, but we always want the song when someone else plays it or has it playing on their iPod. Think of it this way: We like when others shampoo our hair. We like it much more when someone else makes the same meal we made for ourselves last week.

Spoiled? YES. I guess that is why scratching my own back doesn't have any pleasure either.