When the best of intentions go wrong, very, very wrong

If there is anything that drives Cookie nuts is how we seem to be losing our command of English, or at least our understanding that words and phrases have meanings when you put them together.   When you write something, and you use a word, you better understand what those words mean and what they mean when you assemble them into a sentence that makes sense.

Full disclosure - I make mistakes.  I fix them.

And we all make honest mistakes.  

Remember, to err is human, to forgive divine.  

Be divine, I always say.

What I don't understand is this idea that people can use the wrong word, even the right word the incorrect way - and then rationalize it by saying "Language evolves," or even lazier "People don't use that old word, it's more modern to say it this way." 

Bullshit. 

Yes, language is a living thing, and it does evolve.  However, one's laziness and limited vocabulary aren't evolving language, it's excusing your ignorance.

I blame texting and social media, and the generation that got awards for simply showing up.  But trust me, my parents blamed hippies, yippies, and yuppies for fadish things like "luv", "burn down the establishment", and "greed is good".  Every generation blames the previous generation, it is part of humanity.

The one that makes me crazy is how people confuse "hanged" and "hung" when applied to people.  The rule, according to the great William T. Smith - retired teacher extraordinaire who came into my life in high school is simple:  "If a man is hung by his neck until dead, there are going to be many ladies who are disappointed."  Our English class was silent.  Then one girl giggled, and another and a third and then the guys and the rest of the girls caught on.  "The man was hung," applies to a select few.  And the lesson that people are "hanged" and pictures are "hung" has stuck with every student that ever had William T. Smith for a teacher. 

But now and again, actually, more often than naught an increasing number of writers and commentators (usually the people who shouldn't be commenting) will say "He was hung."  Unless you are talking about Johnny "The Wad" Holmes, the man who was died was HANGED by the neck until dead.  

Blowing off the correct word by saying "It's the new way of saying it," just tells me that you are defending your ignorance.

I have a friend in Shaker who goes nuts when someone misuses "Who" and "Whom".  Woe to him, or her, who crosses that Rubicon in front of Wendy Rosenbaumblattthalheimer.  

"What kind of cretin makes a sign for the office fridge that starts out "To who this may concern..."?  It's "whom, Whom, WHOM!" God Damnit!" 

Wendy is usually blissed out on TM, but she will "cut a bitch" over this who/whom thing. 

So today, at the market, while we are waiting to be checked out, the Husband looks over on the check out racks and there is Rachael Ray's newest attempt to remain relevant: another magazine with her name on it.  

Seriously.  Who thought this was a good idea?

And the Husband looks at it and he gets a look on his face.  "If you were Rachael Ray, wouldn't you have someone who would have caught this name for a magazine?"

Is Rachael Ray in season, as in "duck-season-rabbit season"?

Is Rachael Ray in season, like Royal Riviera (c) Pears from Harry and David?

Is Rachael Ray "in season" like when you have to cover the furniture a couple times a year for a female dog or a cat that hasn't been spayed? 

That, along with the headline "2020 FEEL THE LOVE" seems to be an odd choice.  

No, make that a very poor choice. 

I mean someone who is making an amount equal to a sixth-grade teacher should have caught this, and think everyone involved in this decision makes considerably more, and they didn't?  Something tells me that "Hive Mind" or "Group Think" or worse still, the "Team" all thought it a great idea? 

Or still, one person said "You know, it could be construed as meaning..." which then resulted in a pile-on of "No, stop saying that," and for good measure, an eye-roll because "Stephen/Stephanie is always finding a reason why our super idea is bad."

Jeez, Stephen.  Jeez, Stephanie.  We're going to beat you up for doing your job.  Right?

In any event, the Husband and I find it sad.  

Poor Rachael Ray.  

You have gone from being a "hot" media star to being "in heat" like Mitzi, the neighbor's cockapoo. 

Off Target, So Shop Local

The slow burn is on...

So three weeks ago, Cookie announced he was going to Target.  Well not just any Target, the largest Target in the region.

We needed a few things, and the store was recently remodeled with the latest look and products.  So why not.  The house needed a cleaning product that they carry, and we needed laundry detergent.

Lately, Target's stocking of the store out here in the Baltimore region has been pretty hit or miss on the house care, laundry care aisles.  So I figured I see if this store was stocked better.

What I noticed is that the new Target look is more like a department store selling soft goods, makeup and housewares that a store selling the stuff you need for your home.  The grocery section is still thinly stocked.  But the stuff of life, the laundry detergent, the house cleaning things have been scaled back. Instead of three sizes of detergent, they carry only the huge size.  Need trash bags?  One vendor.  Name brands?  Nope, in-store brands. 

I'm not trying to be difficult but I go looking for Tide, I want Tide, not Up & Up Brand.  Vexed - because now I had to go to another store, I went looking for Murphy's Oil Soap Wipes.  They've carried them for years, and not a sign of them.   So I flag down a stockman and ask him and he said: "We used to carry them, people come in here looking for them, I have to tell them I can get them."  How many people?  Maybe 9, more like 30.

So now I don't have the things I need.  So I go over to the Service Counter to ask if they can get them.  There two people behind the service counter, and an employee clowning around with the older person behind the desk.  No one pays attention to me.  Finally, the younger employee asks if she can help me.  I walk over, ask if this is temporary or permanent.  She smiles sweetly and says she doesn't know but she'll ask the manager when she sees them. 

She doesn't write down the name of the product.  I ask her one more time if she remembers the name and she said "Baby wipes?"

No.  I restate the product name.  "You know, it might be better if you call the 800 number because we just stock what they send us."  Some customer service.

So out in the car, I call the 800-line.  The first call gets dropped, the second one gets stuck in the phone tree, the third call is a charm, or so I think.

A seemingly nice man listens and parrots back what I say, says he'll send it up and thanks me for the call.  Wait a minute, says I.  Isn't anyone going to send me an email even to say they are looking into it?

"All calls to Target's customer service regarding products are recorded as anonymous calls," says the man.

Huh? That doesn't make sense. 

"We never perform callbacks or confirmation emails.  All calls are put into the system anonymously.  You see Target is the most trusted name in the value store category, and we have built our business on stocking the stores with what customers need, and we never want to put any employee in the position of delivering news about any product to any consumer."

Now Cookie has worked in customer service.  You don't to be number one by ignoring your customers.  That only works if you have a monopoly and all the cash in the world.  You take care of people.  You check back with them.  And if you don't have the product, if you aren't going to carry the product, you can at least direct them to the manufacturer for more information on whether or not they make it, and if so, where to buy it.  You know, the old Macy's Gimbel's idea of building trust.

Not this prissy pants.   The buck stopped with him.

Could I speak to a manager, please? 

"No, I'm sorry, our managers are not available."

So I ended the call.

I called back in, got a different person and spoke with her.  "Could I speak to a manager?"

"Of course.  Hold for one minute."

And in a minute I get a manager. I explain what I am looking for, and how the guy I was on the phone with refused to take my name.

"Well we normally don't take that information because we don't want to call with unhappy news...blah, blah, blah...but I will take you name and email, I will get back with you in one week.  I have to send it to the buyer's department.  But you will hear back from me."

I thanked her, but I asked her if you aren't tracking these calls by phone number, how do you tell who speaks with whom?  I mean, did that guy understand his job?  How do you coach an employee if you can't track who he has had encounters with?

"That's a good point."

One week later she wrote me an email and said that the buyer's group in that area will look at the says in that area and decide if we should stock the product. 

GREAT!  You can't hope for more when dealing with a monolith like Target.

But here's the thing, we don't wear Target clothing. We don't shop for groceries at Target.  We are not women or drag queens, and if I were my drag name would be Tempest Fugit.  So I don't need a makeup department.  And their hardware area has been shrunken to nothing. We have no children, so we don't need baby items or children's clothes or toys.   And I don't buy things off the web for home delivery unless they are very basic - like pencils or light bulbs.

And evidently, they don't give a dam what customers want or need or care about.

In other words, Target no longer has a purpose in my life.  I can't trust it to carry what I need.  And I don't spend money where I am not wanted.

But I did find those Murphy's wipes.  Where?  Ace Hardware!  And they are locally owned - they can carry whatever they want.  They need to stock the stores with a certain percentage of items bought through Ace's warehouses.

But have you been in an actual hardware store, lately?  Not Lowe's or Home Depot, but the locally owned stores?  That is where you find customer service.  That is where you find the parts of life, the bits, and nails and bolts.  They want your business and they will look for what you want or need, and if they can't get it, they know who might.

And that got me thinking, the biggest retailers don't need to care.  They have no competition.  They carry what they want you to buy, not what you want.  And frankly, Target isn't inexpensive anymore like it used to be.

So farewell, Target.  I am spending my money locally.   I would tell you that, but you don't care.





 

Blogger isn't forwarding your comments as they should

An ugly little thing came up today.  Fifty-sixty comments that readers have made were locked in the "Comment Moderation" box.  Many from long-time readers.  I am shocked and a bit annoyed.  I dislike Google and its worming its way into "AI" more and more every minute of every hour of every day.

So I went through and only found five that pestering comments loaded with SPAM.   They were dispatched. 

I also dispatched the anonymous people who complained about my spelling gaffs.  Look, fuckers, this guy is dyslexic.  The mind is dancing to a rumba while the hands move like a waltz.  Deal with it.  If you want perfection, look to God, for surely that is the only place it can be found.  With two exceptions: the Platypus and 45.  Actually, 45 is sent from Satan, so God gets a pass.

Blobby dearest, all of your comments were added, as many other comments from other readers were.

So if you haven't seen them or we haven't interacted, you know what the story is.

In any event, I want to point something else out.

DAYLIGHT SAVINGS TIME IS ON IN THREE WEEKS!

One of the things that I simply can't get used to on the East Coast is the sun setting on a winters afternoon and pitch black by five pm.  I mean by mid-February, its the beginning of twilight, at 5:30, but my MidWestern genetic self needs sun in the afternoon to power through the stuff of life.

Sweet smoking Jesus, I am geeked!

Korporate Kitchen Kreations: The good, the bad, and the ugly

First, the GOOD

This is actually a great cake, and when you serve it to people of a select age you'll hear them say "I love chiffon cake!"  But do it quickly.  That generation is dying off.

Now the BAD

Ever put something in your mouth and say to yourself, "WHAT THE HELL?"

Let me ask you this, when is a Welsh Rarebit not Welsh or a Rarebit?   This.

What looks like melted Velveeta, and isn't?  This.

It's Mustard Sauce.  You use it to make a "Saucewich".   They had to make up a word to describe it.  Think about that.

And I want to know is, why is dad making his own Sunday supper?  Bad divorce and dad is cooking with a hot plate while pretending that he's just a bachelor.  A bachelor that was married to a woman who was never happy with anything it did for her.  Just wait until the weekly visitation next week.

And since it's Valentines Day, the UGLY

"Hearty meals love raisins."

Do they?  Do they really? 

Does good food really like raisins?  Does the burger say to the baked beans "Hey, honey?  Let's invite the raisins to drop in."

I mean why would you do this.  Well, I'll tell you why.  You are trapped in a hot building in the heart of the Raisin Capital of the world, Fresno, and 6 o'clock on Friday and the people in the art department need an answer, two hours ago.

"What's it going to be, Hank?"  Your boss demands. What's the new campaign to drive home that raisins just aren't for five-year-olds?

And you say "fuck it," to yourself.  You go all Dorothy Parker on him and think about her famous quotable quote: "It wasn't just terrible.  It was fancy terrible.  It was terrible with raisins on it terrible."  Time to brush up that resume and step up in life, say Azusa, or Oxnard.

Have a happy Valentine's Day, for the love of God, don't serve the ones you love these last two, or you could be like good old dad, bach'ing in some seedy apartment wondering what you went wrong.

So we're looking at houses in Shaker...

UPDATE: Yes, this is a point in time where we are beginning the process.  BUT, and PLEASE don't imagine this is going to happen overnight.  It has to be done smartly, and it has to be done correctly.  We are not going to leap and hope we land on our feet.  We have to know that the right things are set up in advance.  So while I appreciate your wishes that we "do it now" it isn't going to happen without jobs, etc., set up in advance.  Realistically, this could take two years or more. 
______________________________________________________

...because we want out of this Hell Hole of Baltimore so freaking bad.

After the husband donkey punched by some Baltimore Bastard while the husband walked to his car after work last year, I am done with this Hell Hole of a dysfunctional city.

I hate the city.

I hate the nonstop crime.

I hate the rude attitude of people.

I hate the traffic, grime and the filth*.

I hate how the voters keep electing bullshit artists instead of people who can solve the problems of this place.

Right now, the only thing I love about Baltimore is a person: Lamar Jackson.  Why?  Because Lamar knows what he is doing.

I so am ready to blow this popsicle stand. 

So I started looking online to see what house prices are in Shaker.  I show what I find to the husband.   He has been amazed by what he has seen.

Will it happen?  Maybe not this year or next. But he sees why I love the idea.

* And I am not talking about porn or titty dancers.  I am talking about the nasty, greasy sooty mess that oil-burning furnaces produce.  I can wipe a window sill on Monday and it's nasty on Tuesday, back to grimy by Friday. 

So much to unpack from a Birkin

Offered without comment.

Something other than politics: Vera Bingo

If you watch Vera, you'll get this. 

If you don't watch Vera, you're suspect then, Pet...