...The only tool I know of that can reliably penetrate this device is a chainsaw - so I went online and ordered one, and when it came - wouldn't you know it, it was packaged in a razor sharp plastic shell...
Wednesday, November 19, 2008
5. Plastic Shell Anti-Theft Packaging
I think everyone knows what I'm talking about here - that maddening plastic shell packaging that almost everything comes in these days - you buy something like new earphones (my most recent encounter) and they've enveloped it in an impenetrable plastic tomb, laser-welded around the edges, which provides the added benefit of razor sharpness and, consequently, painful lacerations to the whole new product experience - just what the purveyors of the good were going for I'm sure... Honestly, manufacturers have to know how maddening it is to try and open those things, but do they care? NO! Let's save a few cents per item by detracting the fraction of a percent of the population that's dishonest, and alienate all our other customers who now equate our brand with bloody fingers and insane frustration!
...The only tool I know of that can reliably penetrate this device is a chainsaw - so I went online and ordered one, and when it came - wouldn't you know it, it was packaged in a razor sharp plastic shell...
...The only tool I know of that can reliably penetrate this device is a chainsaw - so I went online and ordered one, and when it came - wouldn't you know it, it was packaged in a razor sharp plastic shell...
Thursday, October 23, 2008
4. Flying and Airports
My first instinct was to title this entry "Travelling" but the term travel often connotates vacation, escape or relaxation, and I'm definitely in favor of all that, so to minimize confusion I opted for "Flying and Airports" as the object of my rantings.
I know exactly where it all started - I'm at no pains to pinpoint the source of my hatred for commercial airline travel - living in Saudi Arabia during my early teen and pre-teen years, and having limited options for my education that didn't involve Quran study and nomadic desert survival training, I was shipped off to boarding school in California. The "perk" that came with this arrangement was that I was generously allowed three annual trips back to Arabia to see my family, usually during summer break, Thanksgiving and Christmas.
I say generously in all seriousness! My father worked (and still does) for the largest oil company in the world and they sell their oil for a lot of money, but it's still difficult to attract talented engineers and professionals without some thrown-in incentives, so in this spirit they provided a lump-sum amount for each of these trips sufficient to convey me from Los Angeles to Dhahran in all the luxury and opulence of first class, but my ever-enterprising parents opted to find the cheapest tickets they could and pocket the difference*... the result was multiple layovers in obscure international locations and flights on rickety old prop planes that said Bob and Larry airways on the side - I swear I remember there being caged chickens and goats and loud Latin salsa music on one flight... **
...OK so international travel in coach isn't quite that bad, but it’s pretty close. Our family's very first trip from the U.S. to Arabia was in first class on a big new 747, and that was my first foray into the world of airborne travel. I started thinking this wasn't going to be too bad - big cushy recliner seats with leg rests that pop up, an in-flight movie, good food, and stewardesses that attend to your every need. I remember at one point, however, I got the hankering to explore and made my way past the heavy curtain separating first class, which had been all I had known to that point, from the coach section. To say that the revelation was a shock would be a gross understatement. Here were veritable ACRES of grown people - adults - sitting squished into chairs clearly made for dolls, all looking at me with sunken eyes and beggarly expressions. They'd been riding like this for over ten hours, and still had another five or more to go before we got to Amsterdam. I'm almost certain that had there not been a rather stern-looking stewardess standing there beside me, they might have tried to eat me...
...alas, it wasn't to be long before I was one of them myself and, given the chance, I might also have tried to eat any plump little morsels that strayed back from the front of the plane. The trip from Los Angeles to Dhahran is a long one no matter how you cut it, but throw in a couple extra stops and some long layovers and you almost have to start measuring in light years. I specifically remember one gem where my itinerary looked like this: Los Angeles to Denver to Minneapolis (8 hours in the airport) to New York to London (switch AIRPORTS - Heathrow to Gatwick in London) to Amsterdam (overnight in Amsterdam) to Bahrain to Dhahran. I was in Dhahran for 18 hours, during which time I gave blood (since the company clinic will pay good money), then got back on the plane – probably the same one – and did the whole thing over again in reverse…
The business model of coach class makes sense - pack 'em in tight then squeeze ‘em even more to get as many butts in seats as possible, but at least back then you could get tickets at reasonable prices and they didn't nickel and dime you for every little thing. Today, with the decrease in leisure travel after 9/11 and high oil prices*** you can only find affordable flights if you want to depart at 2:10 am and have an 8 hour layover in Swahanawamee. Then they charge you extra if you want to check a bag, eat anything on the plane, have a seat cushion...
…and you have to go through the whole ordeal with a smile and an impeccably polite demeanor, and make no complaints or on the return flight they'll put you next to some elephantine circus freak renowned around the world for his horrendous personal hygiene
* I can't really complain too much about the arrangement since the extra money went toward my college tuition. :)
** Though my comments here were in jest, that TRULY does describe what long bus tips were like in Venezuela on my mission (except that instead of saying Bob and Larry on the side it said Roberto y Lorenzo) - even that somehow, just by not being in the air, was better than airline travel...
***As a quick aside to the high oil prices comment, however, I was pleasantly surprised to see the first number in the per-gallon price be a 2 rather than a 3 when I filled up yesterday - first time in a long time...
I know exactly where it all started - I'm at no pains to pinpoint the source of my hatred for commercial airline travel - living in Saudi Arabia during my early teen and pre-teen years, and having limited options for my education that didn't involve Quran study and nomadic desert survival training, I was shipped off to boarding school in California. The "perk" that came with this arrangement was that I was generously allowed three annual trips back to Arabia to see my family, usually during summer break, Thanksgiving and Christmas.
I say generously in all seriousness! My father worked (and still does) for the largest oil company in the world and they sell their oil for a lot of money, but it's still difficult to attract talented engineers and professionals without some thrown-in incentives, so in this spirit they provided a lump-sum amount for each of these trips sufficient to convey me from Los Angeles to Dhahran in all the luxury and opulence of first class, but my ever-enterprising parents opted to find the cheapest tickets they could and pocket the difference*... the result was multiple layovers in obscure international locations and flights on rickety old prop planes that said Bob and Larry airways on the side - I swear I remember there being caged chickens and goats and loud Latin salsa music on one flight... **
...OK so international travel in coach isn't quite that bad, but it’s pretty close. Our family's very first trip from the U.S. to Arabia was in first class on a big new 747, and that was my first foray into the world of airborne travel. I started thinking this wasn't going to be too bad - big cushy recliner seats with leg rests that pop up, an in-flight movie, good food, and stewardesses that attend to your every need. I remember at one point, however, I got the hankering to explore and made my way past the heavy curtain separating first class, which had been all I had known to that point, from the coach section. To say that the revelation was a shock would be a gross understatement. Here were veritable ACRES of grown people - adults - sitting squished into chairs clearly made for dolls, all looking at me with sunken eyes and beggarly expressions. They'd been riding like this for over ten hours, and still had another five or more to go before we got to Amsterdam. I'm almost certain that had there not been a rather stern-looking stewardess standing there beside me, they might have tried to eat me...
...alas, it wasn't to be long before I was one of them myself and, given the chance, I might also have tried to eat any plump little morsels that strayed back from the front of the plane. The trip from Los Angeles to Dhahran is a long one no matter how you cut it, but throw in a couple extra stops and some long layovers and you almost have to start measuring in light years. I specifically remember one gem where my itinerary looked like this: Los Angeles to Denver to Minneapolis (8 hours in the airport) to New York to London (switch AIRPORTS - Heathrow to Gatwick in London) to Amsterdam (overnight in Amsterdam) to Bahrain to Dhahran. I was in Dhahran for 18 hours, during which time I gave blood (since the company clinic will pay good money), then got back on the plane – probably the same one – and did the whole thing over again in reverse…
The business model of coach class makes sense - pack 'em in tight then squeeze ‘em even more to get as many butts in seats as possible, but at least back then you could get tickets at reasonable prices and they didn't nickel and dime you for every little thing. Today, with the decrease in leisure travel after 9/11 and high oil prices*** you can only find affordable flights if you want to depart at 2:10 am and have an 8 hour layover in Swahanawamee. Then they charge you extra if you want to check a bag, eat anything on the plane, have a seat cushion...
…and you have to go through the whole ordeal with a smile and an impeccably polite demeanor, and make no complaints or on the return flight they'll put you next to some elephantine circus freak renowned around the world for his horrendous personal hygiene
* I can't really complain too much about the arrangement since the extra money went toward my college tuition. :)
** Though my comments here were in jest, that TRULY does describe what long bus tips were like in Venezuela on my mission (except that instead of saying Bob and Larry on the side it said Roberto y Lorenzo) - even that somehow, just by not being in the air, was better than airline travel...
***As a quick aside to the high oil prices comment, however, I was pleasantly surprised to see the first number in the per-gallon price be a 2 rather than a 3 when I filled up yesterday - first time in a long time...
Monday, September 22, 2008
3. Bathroom Offenders...
Home bathroom offenses are certainly many and varied, but here I limit my comments to PUBLIC bathroom offenses, which are usually much worse. If there's one space and one activity that you shouldn't have to share with strangers, and that strangers almost assuredly don't want to share with you - it's what's done in the bathroom... so without further ado...
1. The no flush.
There's really no excuse here - no one wants to finish up someone else's business for them, and I've gotta say, the thought of the last bare, hairy butt to have sat here before me is bad enough without the physical evidence of it...
2. The no wash.
This one never ceases to amaze me - I can't BELIEVE the number of people (and I can only speak for the male population here - hopefully women are better at this) who walk away from doing their business and just walk strait out the door, bacteria colonies reproducing like mad.
The thing is, that it's just as bad at work where, one assumes, the bathroom patrons have a pretty high level of average education and sophistication, as it is at, say, Wal-Mart where you'd expect the average IQ of the public bathroom-goer to be somewhat lower than average, and often somewhat lower than ten... (though I must say I avoid TRULY public bathrooms whenever possible)
I see no other remedy to this one than to start calling offenders out - wait 'til they leave the bathroom sans wash, then run out after them (this may necessitate some hasty zipping on your part) and announce the offense for all to hear (this is especially fun at work parties). Lastly, of course, remember to return and wash up yourself.
3. The moan & groan.
I think everyone knows what I'm talking about here. When engaged in what is commonly and ever-so-descriptively termed as "number 2," you're going to expect some of the less-flattering noises that nature has so thoughtfully included in her soundtrack - unpleasant to be sure, but NOT the subject of my compaint here - no, what I refer to are the gratuitous groans of relief after a strenuous push, the muttered exclamations of "holy cow" or usually something worse that would be edited here as this is a "family-friendly" blog (since, you know, families love to read about BM's 'n' stuff...), or the strains of exertion followed by ridiculously heavy breathing and wheezing---usually followed by more strains of exertion...
COME ON PEOPLE!! Those little aluminum walls aren't insluated for sound and even if they were, there's about a foot of space beneath and usually several more above for your private little squeaks to sneak out (and on a separate note, who on earth designed bathroom stalls that way?! I think a little more privacy is in order for the second most private activity you engage in) One is forced to conclude that those people are either deaf themselves and don't realize they're making noises, completely demented, or just REALLY need to get out their feelings. What are you looking for though - sympathy or something??
4. The blower.
OK, I understand the whole "green" thing and I'm all for saving the whales and planting a tree and listening to John Denver and all that, but few things make me angrier than those stupid air-blowing hand dryers in the place of paper towels - the things take whole MINUTES to dry your hands, all to save one or two little paper towels. If you add up all those minutes - thats a lot of time to plant trees! Now, if you want to have BOTH the blowers AND paper towels, that's just fine but don't force me to spend just as much time drying my hands as I did conducting the rest of my business...
Maybe the worst thing about the blow dryer is that it encourages the "no wash" (see #2 above), and it allows for no "clean exit!" Now some of you may be unfamiliar with the "clean exit" technique but with all the no-washers out there touching the door handles on the way out, it's really a must. The concept is simple - after washing your hands, you grab a paper towel, dry your hands, and then use the paper towel to open the door out of the bathroom. I make it a point with any public facility I use regularly to move the wastebin over by the exit so you can open the door and discard the towel. If a can hasn't been appropriated by the door, just throw it on the floor - eventually they'll get the point! With blow dryers, not only do more people become no-washers but if you want to get out of the bathroom on your own, you've either got to risk touching that handle that you know is creeping with fecal bacteria, get some toilet paper, or wait for someone else to open the door - wasting even MORE time!
My solution to this one is easy - after washing your hands, exit the bathroom and find the facilities guy or whoever's decision it was to install blowers instead of towel dispensers, dry your hands thoroughly on his shirt, then punch him in the neck.
1. The no flush.
There's really no excuse here - no one wants to finish up someone else's business for them, and I've gotta say, the thought of the last bare, hairy butt to have sat here before me is bad enough without the physical evidence of it...
2. The no wash.
This one never ceases to amaze me - I can't BELIEVE the number of people (and I can only speak for the male population here - hopefully women are better at this) who walk away from doing their business and just walk strait out the door, bacteria colonies reproducing like mad.
The thing is, that it's just as bad at work where, one assumes, the bathroom patrons have a pretty high level of average education and sophistication, as it is at, say, Wal-Mart where you'd expect the average IQ of the public bathroom-goer to be somewhat lower than average, and often somewhat lower than ten... (though I must say I avoid TRULY public bathrooms whenever possible)
I see no other remedy to this one than to start calling offenders out - wait 'til they leave the bathroom sans wash, then run out after them (this may necessitate some hasty zipping on your part) and announce the offense for all to hear (this is especially fun at work parties). Lastly, of course, remember to return and wash up yourself.
3. The moan & groan.
I think everyone knows what I'm talking about here. When engaged in what is commonly and ever-so-descriptively termed as "number 2," you're going to expect some of the less-flattering noises that nature has so thoughtfully included in her soundtrack - unpleasant to be sure, but NOT the subject of my compaint here - no, what I refer to are the gratuitous groans of relief after a strenuous push, the muttered exclamations of "holy cow" or usually something worse that would be edited here as this is a "family-friendly" blog (since, you know, families love to read about BM's 'n' stuff...), or the strains of exertion followed by ridiculously heavy breathing and wheezing---usually followed by more strains of exertion...
COME ON PEOPLE!! Those little aluminum walls aren't insluated for sound and even if they were, there's about a foot of space beneath and usually several more above for your private little squeaks to sneak out (and on a separate note, who on earth designed bathroom stalls that way?! I think a little more privacy is in order for the second most private activity you engage in) One is forced to conclude that those people are either deaf themselves and don't realize they're making noises, completely demented, or just REALLY need to get out their feelings. What are you looking for though - sympathy or something??
4. The blower.
OK, I understand the whole "green" thing and I'm all for saving the whales and planting a tree and listening to John Denver and all that, but few things make me angrier than those stupid air-blowing hand dryers in the place of paper towels - the things take whole MINUTES to dry your hands, all to save one or two little paper towels. If you add up all those minutes - thats a lot of time to plant trees! Now, if you want to have BOTH the blowers AND paper towels, that's just fine but don't force me to spend just as much time drying my hands as I did conducting the rest of my business...
Maybe the worst thing about the blow dryer is that it encourages the "no wash" (see #2 above), and it allows for no "clean exit!" Now some of you may be unfamiliar with the "clean exit" technique but with all the no-washers out there touching the door handles on the way out, it's really a must. The concept is simple - after washing your hands, you grab a paper towel, dry your hands, and then use the paper towel to open the door out of the bathroom. I make it a point with any public facility I use regularly to move the wastebin over by the exit so you can open the door and discard the towel. If a can hasn't been appropriated by the door, just throw it on the floor - eventually they'll get the point! With blow dryers, not only do more people become no-washers but if you want to get out of the bathroom on your own, you've either got to risk touching that handle that you know is creeping with fecal bacteria, get some toilet paper, or wait for someone else to open the door - wasting even MORE time!
My solution to this one is easy - after washing your hands, exit the bathroom and find the facilities guy or whoever's decision it was to install blowers instead of towel dispensers, dry your hands thoroughly on his shirt, then punch him in the neck.
Tuesday, August 26, 2008
2. Processed Cheese
Industry and technology have bestowed upon humankind countless wonders and conveniences. Blessed be the names of those responsible, for instance, for the pocket calculator! The concept of the cell phone boggles my mind to no end - that someone standing thousands of miles away, nearly anywhere on the planet, can punch a series of buttons on a small plastic device, causing my device - regardless of my location mind you - to ring so we can carry on a real-time conversation is amazing beyond words to describe. The time, study, collaboration, engineering and dedication that had to go into making the idea a reality is truly humbling, and a testament to human ingenuity.
Some products of industrial advancement, however, are rather less awe-inspiring and have detracted from the richness and romance of times gone past. A desk, say, manufactured from MDF, or Medium-Density Fiberboard is somewhat less impressive and commanding of respect than one painstakingly crafted from solid oak (though, granted, likely also much less costly). Likewise, a rack of baby-back ribs, nicely smoked and slathered with a good sauce approaches the divine, but the vaguely rib-shaped meatlet that the McFoodChain stuffs in a bun is somewhat less tempting.
My argument, just so you understand, is not against the ideals of thrift and/or efficiency - I think it's great that a student can go into a Wal-Mart and procure a sturdy desk for school for less than $100 and grab a McRib on the way out. My problem is that these products PRETEND (and do it so poorly) to be something they're so obviously not. Surely their purveyors don't think consumers THAT stupid (or maybe they do... and maybe some are...). More likely, their statement seems to be - "here's a little hint to tell you what this product SHOULD look like if it were the real thing..." It seems incredibly ridiculous to me that a manufacturer would take a picture of real wood, transfer it to a laminate, then glue it onto pressure board.
Of course, the most grievous offender of the bunch is what devious but ingenious marketers have appallingly named American cheese, to the shame of us all, but SHOULD be called something like: "foul, disgusting paste not fit for human consumption" (though I admit they probably wouldn't sell as much of it). Just thinking about the stuff makes me squirm and cringe - the floppy, plasticky, palidly glossy little squares in a shade of yellow unknown to nature, un-lovingly packaged as individual slices - no more made of cheese than I am. Maybe it would be better if they used a completely different color of dye - blue or purple or something else that would announce loud and clear "I AM NOT CHEESE!!"
Some products of industrial advancement, however, are rather less awe-inspiring and have detracted from the richness and romance of times gone past. A desk, say, manufactured from MDF, or Medium-Density Fiberboard is somewhat less impressive and commanding of respect than one painstakingly crafted from solid oak (though, granted, likely also much less costly). Likewise, a rack of baby-back ribs, nicely smoked and slathered with a good sauce approaches the divine, but the vaguely rib-shaped meatlet that the McFoodChain stuffs in a bun is somewhat less tempting.
My argument, just so you understand, is not against the ideals of thrift and/or efficiency - I think it's great that a student can go into a Wal-Mart and procure a sturdy desk for school for less than $100 and grab a McRib on the way out. My problem is that these products PRETEND (and do it so poorly) to be something they're so obviously not. Surely their purveyors don't think consumers THAT stupid (or maybe they do... and maybe some are...). More likely, their statement seems to be - "here's a little hint to tell you what this product SHOULD look like if it were the real thing..." It seems incredibly ridiculous to me that a manufacturer would take a picture of real wood, transfer it to a laminate, then glue it onto pressure board.
Of course, the most grievous offender of the bunch is what devious but ingenious marketers have appallingly named American cheese, to the shame of us all, but SHOULD be called something like: "foul, disgusting paste not fit for human consumption" (though I admit they probably wouldn't sell as much of it). Just thinking about the stuff makes me squirm and cringe - the floppy, plasticky, palidly glossy little squares in a shade of yellow unknown to nature, un-lovingly packaged as individual slices - no more made of cheese than I am. Maybe it would be better if they used a completely different color of dye - blue or purple or something else that would announce loud and clear "I AM NOT CHEESE!!"
Alas, I seem to be almost alone in my crusade against the vile glop so it's probably not going anywhere anytime soon. And hey, it does make pretty good fish bait...
Friday, August 22, 2008
1. Spiders
Anyone who knows me could have seen this one coming as the inaugural post. More than anything in the world - except maybe centipedes but they're really just elongated arachnids right? - spiders FREAK me out! I have no problem with snakes, rats, you name it, but put a latrodectus mactans in front of me and I'm standing on a chair screaming like a little girl. Spiders just aren't natural - the way they walk upside down and look at you through their creepy little compound eyes. People try to make the argument that they eat other bothersome insects, that they're a key part of the delicate ecological balance, blah-bedy blah blah... it's all propoganda, spread by the evil hoards of satan! (Actually, that designation could just as easily describe the spiders themselves...)
What's a little bit strange is that bigger doesn't necessarily = worse... at least for me. Tarantulas are actually probably my favorite spiders (it's not as if I'm going to run out and buy one as a pet though). Their bulk and the hair makes them seem almost like little mutant mice or something, not exactly pleasant but certainly preferable to their smaller, spinier cousins that can hide in the folds of your sheets and...
...excuse me, I just had to step away for a moment to jump around hysterically and make high-pitched noises...
And in case you didn't agree with me that spiders are the evil-est, ugliest, freakiest and most horrible creations ever to disgrace the face of this lovely planet, I offer a little photographic persuasion.
Until next time...
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