Archive for the ‘Noodle Nuggets’ Category

h1

Twitter Makes me Better…

May 31, 2009

I felt like I should write a post to explain how Twitter has changed me…

I am a better person because of Twitter…

Yes, I am…

Twitter has opened my eyes and my mind as to who people really are. Because of time constraints, I chose to use a program that follows anyone who follows me. That way I don’t upset anyone by not “following back” if I don’t get to them in enough time. If I see someone who offends me or annoys me in my stream, then I just unfollow them… (the beauty of Twitter is the unfollow button if you haven’t figured that out yet…)

Because of this, I have started or entered conversations with people I don’t really know. I have a great conversation with them and think… “hmm… let me go see where they are from” or something like that. Then I read their profile and, sometimes, I am totally shocked as to who they are. Someone I would have never talked to based on whatever pre-conceived ideas my life has ingrained in me…

Then I think… wow… they were really cool… I liked them a lot… I want to be their friend…

My point is simply this…

People are people… we all have our differences and we all have our prejudices… Twitter has chipped away at that barrier for me. I find myself smiling more when I interact with people in real life… I find myself less likely to get upset at the driver in front of me at the light when they don’t move the second it turns green… I find myself caring more about that stranger I am interacting with…

Melodramatic? Maybe… But I think of everyone of these people as someone I may talk to someday on Twitter and think… “They are just me with a little different background”… and it makes me like them…

It makes me better…

Reblog this post [with Zemanta]
Advertisements
h1

Twitter Experts…

April 21, 2009

 

It seems like every blog I write lately is about Twitter, but, then again, most of my spare time (and a tad bit of my un-spare time) is spent on Twitter. To prove that point, at the time of this writing I have posted 17,912 Tweets multiplied by say an average of 100 letters per Tweet, that’s pretty close to 1.8 million keystrokes… Ok… I shouldn’t have calculated that out… I don’t think I really wanted to know that…

Anyway…

We are starting a Twitter account for a work project and in the meeting they kept calling me the “Twitter Expert”. It made me feel uncomfortable. Not to upset anyone who has “Twitter Expert” in their bio but, honestly, I don’t think there really is such an animal.

People may be an expert in the way they have chosen to use Twitter but the addictiveness of Twitter is in the fact that each and every one of us can use Twitter anyway we want to. To some, Twitter is strictly business (like me). To others, it’s purely social. And to probably the majority it’s some combination of the two.

The beauty of Twitter is the simple fact that each of us has a choice in how we use it, who we follow, who we don’t follow. So if the beauty of Twitter is in the individual choices we make that custom-fits it to our lives, then how can one person tell another how to use it? At that point it’s more about opinion than anything else.

I have opinions on what I like someone I follow to do and share those quite frequently like “PLEASE stop changing your avatars!!” But if someone hates looking at the same picture on every one of their Tweets and chooses to change, who am I to say that’s wrong? I can choose to unfollow them or live with it.

So, I guess a better way to say it is that we are all Twitter Experts on our way to Twitter. But that’s just my opinion…

 

h1

Little boy…

March 11, 2009

 

I saw an old friend of mine this morning. Actually an old friend of the family.

He was at the bus stop I go to every morning. I didn’t even have a clue he lived around here, let alone rode the same bus I did.

“What are you doing here?” I ask. He replies, ”This is my bus today. … My God… I haven’t seen you in ages! You’ve all growed up!”

“Yeah it’s been what… like 20 years?” I question.

“ Oh, at least that much, if not longer little boy” he smirks at me, knowing he touched a nerve. He called me ‘little boy’ the whole time we knew each other. “Why are you taking this bus?” He asks with a quizzical look on his face. A face that is much older than I remember.

“This is the bus that takes me to the train station”

“So, little boy, you need to go to the train station?” Chuckling I replied, “Well, yes, that’s where I need to go.”

“Little Boy… this bus will take you where you ‘want’ to go…. Not always necessarily where you ‘need’ to go. Keep that in mind.”

The bus stops and I get in. Pay my fare and look for a seat. I try to find one so we can sit together but when I turn, I realize he didn’t get on with me. I ask the driver, “What happened to the old man? Did he not get on?”

“Sorry, Sir, but you were alone.”

h1

Hyphanation…

September 3, 2008

 

I watched the RNC tonight. Something I promised myself I wouldn’t do but, being the low will-powered sap that I am, I relented (Mainly because the Cubs were losing AGAIN and I couldn’t stand to watch).

So as I sat here and listened to the speeches that I am sure were written by some guy who, two years ago was hoping his blog got more comments than the day before, that I began to wonder…

Whatever happened to the days when the guy who had the biggest canoe got named Chief? Or the Tribe-member with the funniest monkey or the largest nose was appointed as Big-Man-On-Campus?

(Why am I using so many hyphens?)

I think those days were easier.

First of all, there weren’t any conventions. Which means there weren’t any riots or protests. Or if there was a protest it was when Boom-Chukka-Lukka refused to share his peccary that he brought down with a lucky strike of his javelin with any of the other tribe-members to show his distaste for the fact that He-Who-Walks-With-Mega-Loin-Cloth was the next-in-line for Village Chief.

But even then, Boom-Chukka-Lukka understood the rules. It wasn’t  like they got re-invented every four years and the people of the village sat there all like “WTF just happened? How in the Amazon did I just end up with a choice between Weasel-Eyes and Picks-His-Toes-In-Public for Village Chief?”

Our system is the best in the world when it is kept pure and simple. But I think the last election where that happened was back when people still thought ginger-root was the cure for cancer…

h1

Axe no more questions…

September 2, 2008

 

I got a new deodorant called Axe. As I was putting it on tonight I was thinking about the commercial for it, “Axe… it drives women crazy”. I think I am going to change to a different brand. I really don’t think I would like to be responsible for doing that to someone. I don’t know if it is an immediate reaction from women (I haven’t noticed any problems yet) or if it is something that works on them over time. Either way though I don’t want to be the one responsible for causing this kind of trouble.

 

This also got me thinking about the “old days” back before daily showers and deodorants. Some of the greatest Love Stories we know of; Romeo & Juliet, Lancelot & Guinevere, Joe & Emily all happened without the use of body sprays, deodorants, or any other ‘smell good’ stuff. And we’re still talking about these people!

 

Just imagine ole Lancelot coming back from a hard day at the office where he had to smite three dragons, compete in two jousts, train the new guy and golf the back nine with King Arthur. Guinevere runs into his arms as he parks his trusty steed and the little ‘chirp’ is heard from its alarm.

 

She hadn’t exactly had an easy day either, yet somehow, they were able to have this mad passionate love affair without any daily hygiene… I don’t know how any of us are even here today…

h1

Feet Don’t Fail Me Now…

August 31, 2008

 

Right brain, left brain…

I have never understood the difference. But I do know that the right side of my body is much more coordinated than the left side.

When dancing my right foot/leg knows all the Fred Astaire moves while my left foot/leg is like the dude on Dancing With The Stars who looks like he is the next best thing to Holland-Clod-Hopping meets Austrian-Soldier-March.

In laymans terms this means I look very silly when dancing…

My right foot and my left foot are always all “get your act together Dude”. They really do fight with each other…

In the meantime, I am trying to be all cool and suave while the two feet are arguing that every once in awhile I have to get off the dance floor to put my two feet in time-out.

And, even in time out, they argue with each other. They complain about wearing each others socks; they tease each other about the difference in size between toes two and three; they needle each other over who can wear a shoe with the least sweatage…

I am unsure what I should do to get me feet  on the same page. I have thought of therapy or a footacologist but I just don’t think that is going to work.

These two guys just really don’t like each other.

I am almost ready to call an intervention but I really don’t think it would help. I don’t think I will ever get these two guys in the same shoe.

Instead, I will go through life as an intermediary between these two podalic mercenaries and wonder why I am so lenient that I let my feet walk all over me…

h1

Pop a Cap, Teach…

August 19, 2008

 

Not that I was ever ornery or anything but I remember getting paddled in school quite a few   a couple maybe one time.

Then somehow we as a society decided that was wrong to let teachers do that anymore. Everyone got all “kids have rights” and all that. I thought it was just another way that we were getting soft in this country.

Boy was I ever wrong…

You have to read this story, Small Texas school district lets teachers, staff pack pistols

My first thought upon reading this was that of course it was in Texas. I apologize if you live in Texas but I hope you understand that everyone else in the country that doesn’t live there thinks y’all are crazy. (did I say y’all correctly). We all (or is it w’all?) think of you in your big Suburban with your ten gallon hat and boots worn outside your Levi’s and, of course, the obligatory holster with the two chromed six-guns. Ok, maybe not everyone thinks that but I sorta do.

I am not going to debate whether I think this is right or wrong but I did put together a quick agenda for the week-long training course that I feel should be required to get your “Take a Gun to School” permit:

Day 1:

Target practice. Of course it would be sort of like one of those soldier training things but would look more like a school library. The little pop-ups would be good kids and bad kids. Everyone knows that during a gunfight a good kid or two would get hurt so it wouldn’t be a pass-fail type thing. They would get, let’s say, a two good-kid margin of error.

Day 2:

This day would be spent on going over the typical literature that is available on this topic: “Your Gun, Your Students & You”, “If you can’t teach’em, shoot’em”, “Curriculum vs. Artillery” You know… stuff like that.

Day 3:

NRA representatives would be on hand all day to match up each teacher with the proper weaponry. Then, after, there would be a big party at the local steakhouse in which a bunch of “Ye-Has” and shooting in the air would cap off the evening.

Day 4:

This day would be reserved for role-playing out certain scenarios. Like:  Little Johnny hits you with a spitball so you do the roll & crouch maneuver and come up with a bead on him that scares him into submission. This is the hardest one since most teachers can get the roll down and the crouch but it’s putting them together that they struggle with.

Day 5:

This would be a recap on the entire week with a practical test at the end of the day. The teachers that don’t score well are relegated to carrying tasers. But, the higher you score, the larger caliber you get to carry. The PE teachers would probably all end up with .45’s.

I’m not sure I would want to attend this school. I had a particular way of totally pissing off my teachers that I am totally sure I would have needed to find a friend in some black secret government position that could provide me with the latest body armor just so I could pass 9th grade.

More power to all you Texas school kids. Remember to zig zag as you run across the playground…