I don’t like computers; I like pencils, tall and sharp Ticonderogas with enough eraser on top to really go after a big mistake.I like the sound of paper. I like the satisfying scratch of crossing something off a list. I’m quite convinced my printer is in league with Satan. And to be completely honest, my laptop gives me diarrhea.
And so, I am often at the mercy of my husband and my son.They come to my rescue with incredulity and annoyance at my lack of knowledge and efficiency. “How could you not know this?” they ask.
Why don’t I know this!I don’t know this because I spent the last ten years wiping asses and making pancakes.I don’t know this because it wasn’t covered on Blues Clues. It wasn’t an integral part of carpools. I leaned all the way out.That’s why I don’t know it!
Of course, I can’t tell them that because I might have to save the file to a pdf or post a link or some garbage like that. Instead I smile and try to see how and where their fingers landed when they produced this technological magic.
Maybe Sheryl Sandberg who wrote Lean In should expand her generosity to moms who stayed home.It could be like the kind of training prisoners get when they reenter the world. A reintegration program.This is how adults talk to one another.This is a sampling of a non-animated television series. This is a small stylish hand bag.And this is what happened with computers.
The other day I heard a story. It was told to me as a matter of course. As if there was nothing unusual about it. As if this was the kind of thing that happens all the time. It went something like this.
I’m totally bummed out. My friend is going back to the Cayman Islands this weekend to get a cat. It’s a beautiful cat. Its fur is so soft and beautiful. It is so friendly and sweet. It was hanging around the house we rented all week and my friend called the house owner and she is going to go get it and bring it back. She’s going to adopt it. I can’t go because my kids have …..
Wait. What? Where? The Cayman Islands? A stray cat, is it not? And she is flying back to the Spring Break destination less than five days later! I stopped listening at this point. First, I assured myself that I had heard these words in that order and I wasn’t having a stroke. And then I realized this was an augmented reality that I did not share. In what universe of wedded bliss could this occur? Her husband is on board with his wife flying to a tropical locale for the sole intent of acquiring a quasi- feral cat. There are so many layers of I can’t imagine this for me to unpack, not to mention the fact that hordes of homeless cats can be found in spitting distance of basically anywhere. There can be only one explanation – a magic vagina.
Currently, I am in intense negotiations over a badminton net. And I am losing. I would like one in the yard. My husband stands firm on the position that it is an eyesore and an impediment to easy mowing. Do you see the difference here? A stray cat from another country? People give them away. They literally poop in your house. It requires a plane ticket with less than the twenty one day notice to retrieve. I just want two poles and a net.
I do not have a magic vagina. I would say it’s more of the Kirkland Signature variety. I mean, it’s not terrible, you need a membership- but it’s the basic model, a slight grade above generic. I think I’ve always known this.
There’s a lot of talk lately about the dumbing down of America.Some people believe there’s a whole anti-intellectual movement where truth is malleable and opinion is fact. They may well be right.Who to blame and where it all started is an issue for our generation, but the start of all this confusion may be closer than you think.You may even be sitting on it right now. There is no bigger perpetrator of #fake than Restoration Hardware and their lesser kin.It’s Mainstream Decorating that first perverted our gut instincts and made madness acceptable.
I offer you Exhibit A- THIS OLD TRUNK $256.00
If your gut reaction isn’t violence as a result of someone having the temerity to try to sell this to you, then it should be.Look at it!Behold its putrid state.Consider its slapdash paint job, its general milieu of possible stink and probable infestation. Once again, let me remind you that the peddler of this perversion of interior design wants real American dollars.
Exhibit BLIGHTS FROM HELL
These lights all look like they came from the bowels of Dr. Frankenstein’s laboratory.And the good doctor must fear that not only will the corpses come to life but so will the bulbs – so he put them in cages in case they should fly away.Let us reflect on the metaphor of a light in a cage. Ask yourself, is this what I want in my home?
The most loathsome of this motley crew is the desk lamp that appears to be eating the chandelier. Perhaps this is what you get when the bulbs are let loose. Note the merchant tells you Bulbs Sold Separately – I feel a footnote of my own must be added –Good Taste Not Included.
Another Chandelier Falls Victim to Predatory Lights Out on Parole and Repeat Offending
Exhibit DROLL AWAY
Then we have the abandoned mental hospital turned haunted house theme. It looks like Nurse Ratchet will be by with your meds shortly. Industrial type toe amputating wheels are a staple in Restoration Insanity’s decorating theme. And why are they all on little metal wheels? Perhaps the furniture needs to make a quick getaway from the aggressive lighting fixtures.
Old is new.Simple is extravagant. Up is down. The truth is that we all play a part in this madness.These companies are in business, and they are not scraping by and fleeing from town like a snake oil salesman.No, they have solid structures and teams of people who stage their wares with ridiculous tchotchkes like the rusty paint brushes on the dilapidated trunk. And until we are prepared to stand up, separate from the crowd, and declare bullshit when we see it then we will all suffer as fools- even in our own homes.We will all be responsible for #Fake and the dumbing down of America.