Am I The Quitter?

Every week I’m going to quit Twitter. Since they increased the 148 character limit it just isn’t as fun as it was in the beginning. I liked the creative challenge of keeping it tight, and it was easy and fast to keep up. My pal Bunny likened it to passing notes in class — it’s best to be quick and direct. But in the quest to monetize the platform and continue the expected growth trajectory, all I got was more ads, long threads and less fun. It started to feel more like job to keep up.

On the “plus” side: I have some favorite parody accounts, folks I’ve gotten to know in a more social way, a quick way to view headline news, pop culture, real-time takes on TV shows, the ability to complain to faceless corporations, and stuff the kids think is hip.

I am a hypocrite because I use Instagram although I hate whatever the F “meta” is. It’s not a “utility” and it’s not a way to “bring people together” (unless you want to buy a particular type of ad that uses a magic, proprietary algorithm created by a dude who started his company by rating women by their appearance). And I have a creepy feeling that posting pics of the cute grandkids is a default invasion of privacy for people who have no say in the matter. There’s a reason Silicon Valley executives limit their own children’s usage of the products they design and peddle.

I am not young. Before the turn of the century I was working for a small company run by a couple who came of age in the late 60’s/early 70’s. In 1999 the male co-president was very excited about the potential of the Internet and he signed up to take a class called (unsurprisingly), “The Future of the Internet.” I remember vividly the morning after his first class all five of us employees gathered with our coffee in his office to ask him about “the Future.” And I paraphrase here as he dejectedly said, “Well, this is America so it should not have come as a complete surprise that this class is really about the rape of the Internet to make as much money as possible for as long as possible.”

You’re correct, Reader, nobody is forcing me to use these apps. I took them off my phone a few years ago so I have to intentionally sit down to use them. COVID had me “sitting” more, and it did make life feel less isolating for a time (toxic political Twitter aside). But I’m thinking more and more about what am I getting out of this? Yes, I’m using more intentionally (which sounds creepy when I read it out loud), but to what end? Social connection, yes, but that’s the smallest portion of my usage. And can I maintain those ties without the intermediary of our tech overlords (who more and more make me feel that The Future is what white guys close to their mid-life crisis think the future should be)? And in the most ironic moment of meta you may even be reading this from a Tweet that includes this very blog link.

Who am I kidding? This has been a ten-year (!) habit with over 13K tweets — some of which were damn pithy forms of creative genius if I do say so myself. See you next year, my friends. May it be a happy and healthy one for us all.

Don’t Just Stand There

There is a social-psychological phenomenon called “The Bystander Effect.”  Back in 1964 the country was rocked by the story of the murder of Kitty Genovese, a Queens, NY woman who was assaulted and killed in her neighborhood as she returned from work late at night.  Her neighbors supposedly heard and were aware of the attack , but did not come to her aid or call the police. The phrase, ” I didn’t want to get involved.”  began to circulate as code for making the choice to turn away from responding to an incident (or emergency) in a social setting.

This provoked social scientists to study why individuals in groups would behave this way, and they came up with a theory involving the diffusion of responsibility in a group, or social setting. The researchers boiled down five cognitive and behavioral responses that bystanders go through during an “emergency.”

1. They notice that something is occurring.
2. Then they make an interpretation: Is what I’m seeing an “emergency?”
3. Third, they assess their degree of responsibility.  A single person viewing an emergency is more likely to take action — i.e. the Good Samaritan.
4. Fourth, they consider their forms, or options, to render assistance — should they get directly involved or indirectly involved (like calling 911)?
5. And fifth, they implement the action.

When there is a large group of people viewing an emergency there is a tendency for an individual to think that somebody else has already performed some action, or there is somebody else more qualified to assist, like a first responder or a healthcare professional. We all know the story of the Good Samaritan who helps a stranger in need, but there is a tendency in large groups of bystanders for any one individual to think that somebody else either has responded or will respond to a person in distress.  They “diffuse” the emergency over the group and will not offer aid, thinking that somebody else has, or will, get involved.  

For a long time I have had the feeling that we are a country of bystanders.  Please do not take offense.  Everyone is so busy with his/her/their own day-to-day life full of obligations that assessing what we’re watching unfold nationally takes a lot of energy.  But in the last six months I sense a shift in the collective American consciousness.  It is an emergency when Black men and women are being killed by police.  It is an emergency when a global pandemic is killing people of all ages (POC at an even greater rate) and showing the economic fault lines of hunger, poverty and access to care and education.  These events are in front of us daily even if you don’t watch the news or spend time on social media.  

But who am I, you say?  I’m a random blogger among millions.  I’m just a woman who was born at the start of a volatile decade of U.S. history.  A women who heard a lot of rhetoric about equality from an early age, but is still confronted by the sorry match of reality to that rhetoric.  Things haven’t changed that much and it has been a long, slow slog for many, many marginalized groups.  But somebody with more resources will get involved, right?  Somebody more qualified, somebody at another level.  Or have we, as voters, just been watching and waiting:  “Is it REALLY an emergency?  Somebody else more qualified than me will fix it.  I’m only one vote — it doesn’t really matter.  I live in a Blue/Red state so my vote won’t mean much.”  

But now there’s a lot of talk about your vote — about the integrity of voting.   Elections aren’t luxuries or expendable.  There was a reason why the men who get the credit for founding this nation put qualifications on the right to vote — they took it very, very seriously so only men who owned property could vote.  So seriously that we had to fight for laws to protect our franchise, because American elections have consequences.  As hard as it is, ignore the static designed to diminish your desire or will to vote.  Carefully vet the information you read about voting (including this tiny, voice-in-the-wilderness blog)

If you are reading this and you are an American citizen, I implore you — exercise your right to vote.  Check your registration and your state’s plan for casting your vote either in-person this November 3, 2020 or by mail by October 27, 2020  (the deadline to post your ballot to ensure a November 3 postmark).  We are NOT bystanders.  We are in a state of emergency and we have the capacity to act, to render aid to this democracy.  And you know what that guy, W. Churchill, says….

Many forms of Government have been tried, and will be tried in this world of sin and woe. No one pretends that democracy is perfect or all-wise. Indeed it has been said that democracy is the worst form of Government except for all those other forms that have been tried from time to time.… ‘  

This post is longer than my usual length — I try to keep it tight so you’ll read to the end.  If you’re still with me, thank you very much.  I’m trying very hard not to be cynical (which is my default, I’m afraid), but we have come too far to go back and there is still such a long way to go.  I wish us all well.  

A Prayer

Help Me Get Ready To Make Things Happen

I read a newspaper every day — the kind that a person tosses out of a slow-rolling car,  onto  the driveway sausaged-wrapped in a plastic sleeve (that I save as an impromptu dog-poop bag). I usually read it while eating breakfast and I keep a pen nearby to do the crossword puzzles and on Sundays I make notes and circle quotes that grab me.  I have time to REALLY read the paper now — all the sections are pretty thin.  The editors are getting creative on the Sports pages especially because, well, you know.  Sometimes I break up the reading with some household chores so it can take me a whole day to read it.  I’d say I’m getting my money’s worth from this subscription.

Help Me Get Ready To Make Things Happen

This quote jumped out at me from a piece about a woman who is the outreach coordinator for a medical marijuana company.  She used it to describe the feeling she gets from listening to a pastor leading a church service that she’s listens to on the way to her job, which she works on Sundays.

There are a lot of people who are still working.  In many ways they are working more.  Their homes are their workplaces all day, even as they are also schools and sanctuaries.  When I think of it that way,  they are never not working.  And then there are people who are “unemployed” (meaning they are not receiving a paycheck for their labor).  They can think about work all the time as well.

The World feels distorted.   Or is it?  It’s been my own self-absorption that has kept it orderly and tidy.  It’s been on Fire since the beginning of Time with little pockets of peace here and there for some folks.  As usual, we humans crawling around today think we’ve come so far with our inventions, our technology.  But what I am seeing today are People.  Yes, they are using technology, but it’s to combat systemic racism, to support other People who are marching as a front line together.  I see the humanity of front-line healthcare workers who are taking care of the sick and frightened.  Yes, they also use technology’s tools, but their work is still very much hands-on (with gloves, masks and face shields).

And still it’s too easy to turn the page, to turn away from the suffering of People.  It’s the suffering that should bring us together.  For the past few months I’ve been sheltering at home and it’s been easy to think about change, but this prayer is germinating something, something to DO every day.  Write something, call someone, contribute time and/or money to further a group’s progress on behalf of People.

Every day, Help Me Get Ready To Make Things Happen”.

 

 

The Beauty of Diversion

It’s a strange time even for the introverts.  Other than going to the gym I lead a socially distant life organically.  But even I have noticed a couple of interesting things about the elasticity of time as I move through my never-really-changing day(s):

If I have to wonder when was the last time I took a shower, it’s time to take one NOW.

When I do the laundry and find I’m only washing two pairs of underwear in a week, there’s a problem.

When I start justifying the number of crossword puzzles I’m working on in a day, have I crossed a line?  According to the New York Times, no.  They have increased the puzzle page in recent weeks to give readers more of a distraction from, well, the news.

If I play enough songs from the the 80’s and put on a headband I can go back in time.  My time machine is fueled by cleaning out stuff.   WHOOOO!  I finally used up a six- year-old lip balm and tossed those old mascaras, because who needs make-up under these make-shift masks I wear to go grocery shopping?

The TV is off during the daylight hours — radio, too, since all of the “news” is about one topic.  But I experience a strange phenomenon as I go about my day.  There’s an elasticity to time.  I’m not working right now (at a paying job, at least) so the only structure to my day is around the household chores, and, truth be told, those chores aren’t very onerous.  We don’t have little children in the house to feed regularly or to teach  so there is just the passing of the hours.  The closest way I can describe the feeling is to say it reminds me of being a child.  Sometimes I have the feeling of five-year-old me:  that feeling of some larger authority  structuring my time —  like a parent calling me to the table, or to go with them on an errand because I am too small to be left alone at home.  And sometimes I feel like my  adolescent self —  old enough to be left to my own devices but without homework, or a car, or money.  Both were feelings of a strange kind of abdicated freedom.

There are a whole lot of people still working.   They are keeping civilization intact for the socially distant.  They are stocking shelves, delivering stuff, showing up for their shifts at hospitals, police stations, fire houses, restaurant kitchens, food banks.  They are creating diversions for kids, making us laugh and trying to alleviate loneliness.  Our days are long and all the same, but we have still have agency and some power to make choices, however small, to improve them.   The painted rock in this post photo was resting on a path I walked recently.  Somebody reaching out to all the passers-by:  choose beauty, choose to be happy. And remember, it will not always be this way.

 

 

Water or Not: “What The Eyes Don’t See”

Dr. Mona Hanna-Attisha is a class act because if I were her I think I would have named my book about the Flint, MI water crisis Does Anybody Give a Damn? A pediatrician by training and a professor involved in developing the next generation of physicians to advocate for public health, she worked with a small team of dedicated professionals in her orbit to bring to light the shameful poisoning of Flint’s water supply and its cover-up. Even though we know the outcome the book still reads like a thriller, and I understand from her Wikipedia page that it’s been optioned to become a movie. It’s gonna be hard to cast her Super Hero In a White Coat character.

No joke, Dr. Hanna-Attisha is an excellent writer. She shares her personal story as an Iraqi immigrant. She speaks from the heart about her family, and the stress that advocacy put on her husband and young daughters. She has a terrific sense of humor too as she weaves in a story about a family trip to Six Flags AutoWorld.

But make no mistake, this is a book about environmental justice, transparency in government, and the need to support robust public health policy. Dr. Mona and her supporters are still advocating on behalf of the people of Flint through Flintkids.org

This book will make you angry, sure, but it will also feel restore your faith in good people fighting every day. Open your eyes to our fellows toiling on our behalf and on behalf of those who cannot advocate for themselves — children, our future.

Next up is a tasty sampler of Margaret Atwood — Good Bones and Simple Murders.

Batting Clean-Up

 

So the kids came through on my subtle hint and had Santa Bezos deliver a copy of “The Gentle Art of Swedish Death Cleaning” this weekend.  It’s a charming little tome about getting clear (and clean) in your life so loved-ones won’t have to spend all their energy cleaning up after you when you leave this plane.  My father, the inscrutable Boris, always talks about leaving the Earth “debt-free,”  and I take that to mean he’s not going to leave much to clean up either.   Thanks in advance, Pops.

So I got (gently) pumped to start my death cleaning.  (BTW — you don’t have to be imminently facing mortality to start cleaning.  Although I’m in good health, you never know when that proverbial bus is going to come out of nowhere.)  And one of the first things I found was from a previous death-cleaning of my beloved mother-in-law’s house.  In the photo for this post I used it to cheerfully shroud my book.  Anybody care to venture a guess as to the purpose of this pink zippered mesh sack?

I’ll give you three choices:

A.  Shower caddy to contain all those multi-colored shower poufs.

B.  Make-up shroud to keep your “face” intact when you need to pull a garment on over your head.

C.  A cover to keep the dust off your beloved Hummel figurines.  … that you collect and curate with a sort of maniacal zeal thinking they will be worth enough to finance your grandchildren’s college tuition.

Thanks Mom.

Patience

Miss Peony 2015

Miss Peony 2016

I enjoy plants and flowers, but I don’t have a green thumb.  What I do have is patience.  I planted peony bulbs three years ago and last year I was rewarded with this fuchsia flower — a singular diva bloom.  This year my reward was the pink peony — again, a spectacular solo performer.

Thanks Mother Nature for changing it up and giving me something to look forward to, because I sure can’t remember what colors I planted.

Journalism vs Marketing

 

For the past few weeks I’ve been mulling over the topic of Facebook as a news source. This mulling was sparked by the recent accusation that Facebook was blocking more conservative posts from its members’ feeds. Although I’d classify myself as active on social media I would not characterize myself as a heavy FB user, but I cannot deny that FB is a driving force in contemporary life.

But as a heavy consumer of news, this provoked me into thinking more critically about how news is packaged now. I began by looking at Random House Webster’s College Dictionary’s definition of journalism:

journalism: (1) the occupation of gathering, writing, editing and publishing or broadcasting news. (2) newspapers and magazines; the press. (3) a course of study for a career in journalism. (4) material written for a newspaper or magazine. (5) writing marked by a popular slant.
Then I added the Five (Plus One) Questions of Journalism that I learned in school:
WHO? WHAT? WHERE? WHEN? WHY? and HOW?

Although many FB users like the ability to share personal content with both their friends and in some cases, the public at large, Facebook is a business and the reason its platform is “free” is because its users have a value to their business. I respect that Facebook is a business model and the positive elements it brings to its users’ personal and professional lives, but I don’t give it any higher, altruistic attributes.

Facebook evolved from a cool way for college students to engage with a defined population into a global tool for people (with internet access) to share personal content. That personal content shapes and drives what you see, and it is driven primarily by those mystical algorithms. The recent news kerfuffle revealed by Gizmodo is that there are humans (primarily young, East-coast educated humans) who curate the news feeds, and while this isn’t surprising from an employment standpoint it does make me consider what the employer’s motivation is in regard to this staff.

And then I remembered the Three Big Questions of Marketing:
1. Why do you do it?
2. How do you do it?
3. Why should we care?

But if Facebook considers itself a news source shouldn’t  it be held to as high a standard as news outlets? Recently I read an op-ed letter that described Facebook’s news feed as akin to getting your news out of a gumball machine. Although that resonated with me I’d be more inclined to describe it as getting your news from one of those arcade games where you crank a crane over the stuffed animal of your choice before you drop it. You may not get THAT animal but you’ll get something. Since Facebook is using “likes” and “friends” to drive the feed the reader will never know what s/he DOESN’T see. There’s nothing inherently wrong with click bait and recommended content, but I have a problem with the limits on “why” is it selected for you.

When you buy a newspaper or visit a news-specific site there is visible paid advertising, so why is that any different from Facebook? I don’t necessarily read every article in a newspaper or every ad, but the people who run the newspaper make it very clear which content is which. They even make it clear when they aren’t just giving me the facts; such as the Op-Ed page where they invite folks with differing opinions to share them. And maybe that’s where I get hung up. I don’t want anyone to presume that because I liked something once, that’s the limit of everything I like. I may be open to liking something new and different, but the only way you’d know that is if you get to know me. And getting to know me is a privilege earned by your professional behavior.

But let’s get back to journalism, which is what I’m calling “news” for this exercise. Most adults realize that although journalists should be unbiased professionals many of the organizations who employ them have a distinct slant. I try to read from as many news outlets as I can and pay attention to the bylines.  I follow news organizations on Twitter — and that has sped up my own personal news cycle in terms of delivering breaking news. But there is something warmed-over about Facebook news — like it’s pre-digested. Sometimes news is like a punch to the gut.  When it’s bad news it will sadden you or even make you shake with rage.  News shouldn’t be trying to sell you on something.  Its first purpose is to inform you, its higher purpose it to enlighten you, but its most noble purpose is to make you uncomfortable.

Facebook’s purpose is to get your eyes to linger as long as possible so somebody somewhere can figure out how to sell you something.  It is far from FB’s best interest to make you feel like logging off (which may also explain why trolling and negative behavoir get a lot of attention).   I enjoy a good cat video as much as the next guy, but until cats can get press credentials I’ll get my news from the journalists.

 

 

 

Forever, Plastics

Perhaps my goal here is to further “afflict the comfortable,” but this BBC Earth video from 2009 left me awestruck.   I discovered it visiting the site of the poet Liz Brownlee who is participating in the A-to-Z Challenge again this year (her “A” entry is about the albatross).  I became her WP follower two years ago when I first survived  A2Z and she continues to inspire me with both the depth and breath of her work.

“Just One Word: Plastics.”

That quote is from the 1967 film The Graduate.  An innocuous little quote, but it is what’s been keeping me up nights.  More specifically it’s the growing amount of plastic in the water.  Let’s start small and consider the microbeads from beauty and cleaning products that may have already entered the food chain.   These tiny (smaller than 2 millimeters) bits of plastic are added to our face washes, toothpastes and nail polishes to help us exfoliate.   But unlike organic grainy products like sugar, sand, shells or coffee grounds that break down, these microbeads travel down our drains and into the sewer system. Since they are too small to be filtered out at local water treatment plants they flow right into the ocean (they are even too small to join the huge floating garbage patch — more on that in a bit) where they are eaten by fish….who are in turn eaten by bigger fish…. and, well, you get the idea.  The plastic bits are also great at absorbing other pollutants in the water — intensifying their toxicity as well.

Maybe there’s hope.  Congress passed and President Obama has signed legislation banning the manufacture of polyethylene microbeads late last year.   ( H.R. 1321, or the Microbead-Free Waters Act of 2015), but the ban on products containing microbeads isn’t in effect until January 1, 2018.  The manufacture of products containing microbeads begins six months earlier on July 7, 2017.  This legislation was sponsored by New Jersey’s  Representative Frank Pallone (D-6th Dist.)  So let’s give thanks to some bipartisan efforts in passing legislation to protect us (and our waters) just a little bit.

One of our local environmental advocates is NY/NJ Baykeeper.  The good folks of this organization published the NY-NJ Harbor Estuary Plastic Collection Report. (You can access the link to the February 2016 report from NY/NJ Baykeeper.)  Their estimate is 165 MILLION plastic particles are floating in the NY-NJ Harbor Estuary ~ that seems like a big number for a localized area that prides itself on water tourism.

But the West coast isn’t immune to the growing footprint of plastic either.  It’s a real thing, The Great Pacific Garbage Patch – 270,000 tons of plastic garbage  floating across the ocean.   How can we possibly think that our children’s children are going to be able to swim in the ocean on a summer day?   I grew up within a 2 mile walk to the Atlantic Ocean.  I took for granted that I could go to the beach anytime, in any season.  I’ve scavenged for driftwood in the deep cold of winter and I’ve walked on the beach at summer’s twilight, feeling the sand cool between my toes. I’ve cleaned beaches with various groups and marveled at the junk coughed up by rough surf.

Then I realized with great shame that even with self-awareness and best intentions, I am part of the problem.  I buy bottled water, I drink coffee in a to-go Styrofoam cup, I eat  my morning yogurt from a plastic container.  My newspapers are delivered dry in plastic bags.  I can rationalize that I recycle plastics at home, but it that enough of an effort to stem the tide of floating junk?   I began to really look at every product I touched today.  Here’s an abbreviated list:

Lip balm and tubes of make-up

Personal care products: tube of toothpaste, toothbrush, shampoo and hair dryer 

Plastic bag to carry my ice cream home from the market

The garbage bag in my plastic kitchen garbage can is also plastic 

My electronics:  laptop computer, cell phone, e-reader (not just plastic, but toxic e-waste, too)

Okay, then, what’s the alternative?  The NY/NJ Baykeeper Report includes guidelines to move towards a “plastic-free” lifestyle.  I’ve added them below as well:

Bring reusable bags to the grocery store.  Shop products sold in bulk at the grocery store.  Check out ECOBAGS®, ECO Lunchboxes, and EcoDitty for a great selection of produce bags, lunch bags, sandwich bags, and more.  Use a reusable glass or stainless steel bottle or mug, such as Klean Kanteen and Love Bottle.  Carry reusable utensils with you. When ordering take-out, opt-out of plastic utensils.  Ask your server to wrap your leftovers in aluminum foil instead of using polystyrene foam boxes.  Say no to plastic straws. Check out Glass Dharma for durable glass straws.  Dispose of cigarette butts in a receptacle. The filter is composed of plastic.  Use fewer garbage bags by composting food waste and paper.  Check out all natural personal care products that do not include plastic microbeads. When in doubt, check the product label for polyethylene or polypropylene. If the product contains either of these ingredients, it contains plastic microbeads.

 

The reality is that Nature will do her own cleaning after humans have polluted themselves out of existence.  But I don’t want to just ride the plastic gravy train until we can walk back to Russia from Alaska.  So I’m also going to give a shout-out (and link) to young New Jersey company looking to reduce hard-to-recycle waste, Terracycle.  These folks started out in 2001 and have taken some creative approaches to waste, recognizing that in case it’s too late to put the brakes on our disposable society, maybe we can alter the life cycle of waste. Hey, outside the box thinking means never needing a box at all.