Musings

Thursday, February 13, 2014

Yahoo's Valentine's Day messages

I stopped using my Yahoo email quite some time ago. It was my first webmail account (okay, well, technically, it was my second, but Yahoo is still my first webmail provider), but once it started getting cluttered with spam, I decided it was time to move on.

The account still exists, mind you, and I still check it from time to time if for no other reason than to empty it of the accumulated garbage. I recently logged in and did more than empty the garbage. I absolutely purged it, emptying every folder of everything that had accumulated over the past decade or so. I ended up with a nice, clean mailbox.

It was while I was doing the pre-spring cleaning that I discovered the Valentine's Day feature Yahoo has added. A pulsing red-heart icon has been added next to the Compose link, inviting you to autocompose a Valentine's message. Clicking the heart creates a new message. At the bottom of the message pane is a dropdown list from which you can select one of three options: Crazy in Love, Friendly Love or All Outta Love.

Selecting Crazy in Love generated this message:

To my beloved,

Your love is like a warm breeze. You move with the elegance of a soft summer cloud. Your face could launch 1,000 ships. The stars are jealous of your famous sparkle.

Love forever and a day,

Friendly Love gave me this:

To the best human I know,

You have so many friends, I'm sure you've already received 1,000 Valentines today. You know, I've never even seen you jaywalk! Not once! I know I can always trust you to tell me if I have toilet paper stuck to my shoe. You're fabulous. Did you know that? Well, it's true.

With love and friendship,

Now that I think about it, it sounds kind of like a dog or an android talking to a person.

And then selecting All Outta Love resulted in the following:

To someone who deserves more,

Enough is enough. Have you ever noticed that cupid rhymes with stupid? Let's celebrate being single since it's obviously way better. It's gonna take more than this silly day to make me cry.

Tomorrow is a new day,

Since I'm in the process of going through a big relationship status change, the last one kind of struck a chord with me, but that's a story for another day.

Each time you select one of the options, it generates a different random message. Okay, yes, I confess I did sit here for several minutes selecting each option over and over to see what kinds of messages would be created. They're pretty lame, all things considered. If you're going to offer such a feature, at least go into it with a little pizzazz and enthusiasm. Throw some animated gifs in there or some emoticons, at least. I think if I were to send one of these messages to someone in whom I was interested, their likely reaction would be to think me pathetic.

It strikes me that Yahoo is trying to be more like Facebook. And the flashing and provocative ads displaying in the righthand pane are truly absurd. I am quite honestly embarrassed to open my Yahoo mail at work because of the ads that display.

I think absurd is a good word to describe Yahoo mail these days. Sure, it's one of the better free webmail options, but with the intrusive ads and spamming in bulk, I just have to wonder, why bother?

Wednesday, May 30, 2012

Thoughts on parenthood as my son leaves elementary school

Parents face a lot of anxiety--especially in the early years of their parenthood. They wake up in the middle of the night, wondering if their babies are okay, they follow their diapered crawlers everywhere to ensure they come to no harm, they lock cabinets and close off stairways. Once places of comfort, homes are harsh wildernesses of sharp things, precipitous stairs and balconies, monstrous boulders precariously leaning.

Some measure of relief arrives with each stage of growth and maturity their children attain. When children can put spoons to their own lips or stuff handfuls of Cheerios into their mouths, it's a small relief not to have to feed them. When they can walk on their own, it's a relief to no longer have to bear the burden of carrying them, propping them on one hip while trying to perform other necessary work. It's an exhilarating breeze when diapers are no longer needed.

And when they can form complete sentences and make their needs and wants understood, a whole new world opens up. Soon they can clothe themselves and use a pencil, holding it correctly between forefinger, middle finger and thumb.

New anxieties arrive when children are scooted off to school. But it's also a time when many more doors of independence are opened.

Little by little, parents find themselves recapturing some semblance of the lives they led before these mounds of responsibilities were heaped upon them. They can go back to enjoying nights out with friends or quiet dinners just to themselves. They can watch TV alone without having to worry about little ones being in danger. They don't feel the need to spend every waking moment considering the dangers around every corner.

You can relax.

Sure, there are still responsibilities. Clothes to be washed, perhaps lunches to pack, trips to the bus stop. It's all a matter of routine by now.

But before you know it, your little baby is leaving elementary school and headed off to middle school and, sooner than you think, high school. And you find yourself wondering, where did that stumbling little guy in the diaper go?

What happened to all those late nights sitting up in the rocker? The tiny, grasping fingers so anxious to explore? The wide-stretched smile that laughed at funny faces and funnier noises? Peekaboo and hide-n-go-seek? What happened to the toys, the Legos, the action figures, the crayons? What happened to raspberries and feet tickling? And baby talk?

What happened to the walks through the neighborhood with a passenger perched on your shoulders?

What happened to coloring inside the lines and outside the lines? What happened to believing in elves and Santa Claus?

Where did the blanket fort go and late nights sleeping on a mattress on the floor?

Where did that little dome-roofed car go? The tricycle? The Big Wheel?

What happened to training wheels and tiny mittens? What happened to reading bedtime stories and making stuffed animals talk?

You wonder, who is this guy wearing the suit jacket and tie?

It is good to freeze every moment in your mind, to soak it in and fill yourself with it. With a blink of the eyes, you find yourself waking, wondering where the reverie drifted away.

Sunday, February 21, 2010

Vancouver 2010: Bronze is just fine

Okay, so, whoo-hoo, American athletes are well ahead of their international competitors in the medal count at the Vancouver Winter Games.

But there’s something nagging at me about a certain attitude some of the athletes seem to be exhibiting. They seem to be perfectly satisfied just being pretty good.

When I think of the US athletes of past games, I see people who gave it their all, who overcame the odds to pull off amazing upsets—like the 1980 men’s hockey team that snatched gold from what, up to that point, had been a dominating juggernaut Russian team (the gold medal round actually came later, but the Soviets were so heavily favored, the gold medal was theirs for the taking).

Yes, American fans can wave their flags proudly because of this year’s performance, but the impression I get is that many of them are highly trained and talented athletes who have become complacent and are content to walk away with a shiny bronze instead of being bold enough to snatch the gold.

Cases in point from recent events: Lindsey Vonn and Apolo Anton Ohno, both of whom earned bronzes for their performances.

When Vonn hit the bottom of the slope after her run, she threw her arms up in triumph as if she had in fact just earned her second gold of the games. The celebration was a bit premature because, after all, there were more skiers to come. Her lead did not hold up.

Afterwards, she confessed that she made a strategic error in not skiing more aggressively in the bottom portion of the slope. She skied aggressively early and then backed off near the end.

Strategic error?

No, Lindsey, that’s called leaving something on the slopes. Nobody wins gold medals by holding back, by letting up. It’s the athletes who dare to push themselves, who ignore the risks of being aggressive and just go for it who earn gold, who are remembered, who will one day be called The Best. People who make “strategic errors” settle for third place.

Sure, Vonn’s got a lot to be proud of after shaking off a leg injury that might have ruined the chances of other skiers. I give her full credit for her grit and toughness.

So I have to wonder why it is that someone who is willing to fight through the pain to grab gold in one event would play it conservatively in another. There are no medals for "could have" or "should have."

I think the media are largely to blame for the high hopes I have for some athletes, particularly Apolo Ohno. Before winning bronze in yesterday’s 1,000-meter short track event, Ohno acknowledged that the Koreans were superb athletes and that racing against them would be a challenge. Frankly, I’ve always been somewhat disappointed in Ohno. He always seems to come up just short of gold. He’s got a box full of medals, but seldom comes out on top.

And I really wanted to see him beat the Koreans, who, it seems, really despise him. This race, in my mind, was one of those defining moments where an athlete has an opportunity to rise up and defy expectations. I wanted Ohno to erase those disappointments that lingered in my mind.

Instead, he settled for bronze and then flashed seven fingers to say, “Hey! Look at me! I’ve got the most Winter Olympic medals of any US athlete!”

Frankly, I felt kind of offended by that move after watching him finish third in the race. Most athletes—the ones who really want to compete, who have the drive to win, to be the best—would have been downtrodden by that outcome. Yes, he had to fight to come back from last place to earn that medal—I give him credit for that.

But that’s still a disappointment in comparison to the high hopes and high expectations. Again, I fault the media for part of this. You watch these commercials where he’s shown skating so fast the ice starts to crumble around him—as if he’s superhuman, as if he’s the Flash or something.

It’s not so much the third place finish that bothered me—it was when he held up those hands to show his pride in having earned seven medals. Yes, that’s something to be proud of, but at the same time, it’s also a signal from another athlete who’s content to be just pretty good.

Bonnie Blair, whose medal count Ohno eclipsed was on hand to watch the event. Many will no doubt begin tagging Ohno with superlative monikers because of the 7-medal achievement.

But let me put this into perspective: Blair won only 6 medals to Ohno’s seven, but five of Blair’s are gold. That’s the difference between an athlete striving to be the best and one who’s satisfied just to be one of the best.

Ohno’s got a lot of skating left to do. At some point, I would like to see him—and all the other athletes for that matter—stop being content just to medal and start fighting to be the best. If you leave something out there on the slopes, on the ice, on the field, on the court, then you’re settling, plain and simple.

Thursday, February 18, 2010

Oh, the technology!

I have long had an antagonistic relationship with technology--especially vending machines. One issue has always been trying to feed dollar bills into the money slots. No matter how clean bill you've got, the machine's still going to spit it back at you a couple of times.

My problem was always that I rarely carried enough cash in the denominations the machines accepted to be able to buy anything. I was always scrounging around the floorboards of my car, in the pockets of my backpack, dark nooks and crannies of my coat pockets--anywhere that a wayward dime, nickel or quarter might be hiding--trying to find enough money for a soft drink or something.

It got to the point that I'd specifically start stashing money in various pockets and notebooks--whatever--so I'd have an "emergency snack fund."

I could never figure out why companies didn't just make the things accept plastic. I always have my debit card on me, but seldom small denominations of cash.

So when I discovered that IUS now provided faculty and students with what they called a U-Card, I was actually pretty excited. Finally! I shrieked to myself. Why didn't they do this sooner? And it was so darned easy to transfer funds to my card. Just log on with your university credentials, enter your debit card number, the amount you want to transfer, and voila! you're licensed to purchase.

I looked at vending machines in a whole new light. No longer did I sneer a challenge at them when I entered the building. Instead, I'd give them the what's-up-bro head nod. Keeping cash in a virtual stash is much easier than having to root through the glove compartment and floorboards of a car, let me tell you.

My first soft drink purchase with the U-Card was a moment of triumph. As God is my witness! I shouted in my mind, I shall never go thirsty again!

But then I learned of the dark side to the U-Card. Oh, yes, that faux ally in my battle against the Machines turned out to be the worst kind of traitor. To be sure, it's not entirely the U-Card's fault, but still, it was like the enemy had planted a spy in my camp deliberately to raise my hopes and then spring a malicious trap.

The first hint of trouble was the discovery that the U-Card will not allow the balance to fall to 0.00. Either that or it misreads the balance on the card. At the machine it will report that you've got $1.25--enough to purchase a soft drink, but when you try to make the purchase it chastises you with the message, "Insufficient funds." So I transfer a couple of dollars to my card and try again. No problem this time.

One day I walked into my classroom building on campus and went straight to the vending machines and tried for a soft drink. Insufficient funds, it told me, even though with the last purchase I still should have had a couple dollars on the card. So I sat down on a bench five feet away from the machines, pulled out my laptop, connected to the wireless and transferred the funds I needed to make a purchase.

As I sat there with my laptop, glaring at the Coke machine, it struck me that my life had attained a new level of absurdity.

The other dark side to the Vending Machine/U-Card alliance is that few machines on campus actually accept the silly card. They lure you in with promises of low rates, frequent flyer miles, etc., and then you find you can't use them anywhere. And many of the machines that PRETEND to accept the card steadfastly ignore me when I insert it.

Then there are those days where the one or two machines that work are sold out. The machines in my building were sold out for two weeks solid. I had to drink water out of the fountain. Out of the fountain! It's difficult to imagine how many microbes were allowed free entry into my body.

Today when I attempted to purchase a soft drink, I was confronted once again with the flashing red message SOLD OUT and was ignored by the other machines. "Don't give him nothin', Reggie!" the other machines seemed to chant.

I turned to the machines behind me that accepted cash in $2 and $5 denominations. I just happened to have a fiver on me, so I thought, fine, I'll buy a pack of gum or something and get enough change for a soft drink.

I inserted the five with surprisingly no hassle from the machine. Then I selected a pack of gum as my purchase choice. And the machine presented me with the message--I kid you not--Insert more cash!

I snarled and punched the return button, whereupon the machine proceeded to spit my $5 back out to me--in quarters!

As it turned out, that was just fine because now I had enough for the soft drink I pried out of the machine that refuses to accept the U-Card.

And so the battle rages on!

Friday, February 12, 2010

Blog Links