Who am I?

You know, the more popular online stores, the Amazons and the iTunes of the world are getting more sinister sneaky creative.

They have started these “recommended for you” features or “just for you” picks.

The choices are based on what you have looked at or bought in the past. iTunes also looks at your current library to make recommendations.

Which is both cool and diabolical because it makes me buy more. I mean, they find stuff I may not have thought of! I’ve dropped serious coin after an hour on the “just for you” feature on iTunes.

So when I’m bored, I’ll go over and take a gander to see what’s recommended. Maybe I’ll make a new find!

However…I’m starting to get nervous about just what, exactly, my “recommended for you” lists say about me.

Here is an actual screen capture of my actual “Just for You” list on iTunes:

This does not say “hip cat”. This does not say “cutting edge”. This does not say “wow, you are the person people want to be like”.

This says…you are lame as hell and listen to the kind of music they play in the elevators around the world.

I can’t even debate the choices. I *adore* Roger Miller, I already own that Lynn Anderson, and I’ve been known to favor a tune or ten by Mickey Gilley. I used to own that Goo Goo Dolls (but wearied of them) and that Michael McDonald song is one of my all time favorites. Oh and that song “Wildfire”…well, it brings a tear to the eye every time.

Fine. I’m a dork. Whatever.

This is like going to the dentist with teeth you are pretty sure are spotless and then they make you chew that red tablet and show you just how god awful dirty your teeth really are.

Sometimes it’s better not to look too closely in the mirror.

I won’t *even* share my Amazon recommendations list. My mother reads this blog, fer goodness sakes! I swear I only accidentally clicked on that questionable item ONCE! I swear!

A new look at an old topic

Far be it from me to be short sighted, but there is one issue I discussed recently that, as of today, I’ve seen a whole different view on.

See, I’ve found a way this can benefit me, and that’s a horse of a whole different color.

The topic was about the guy in my office snack shop talking wildly to himself. I thought he was on a Bluetooth headset. He was not. Original post here.

Well, today, driving to work, I had my iPod shuffle rigged up in the Jeep. See, while in New Mexico, I begged, borrowed, and *ahem* borrowed some music from my best friend’s extensive collection of classic country tunes.

Many of them made their way to my iPod, and as is my way, when a real good song comes on, singing along isn’t just a choice, it’s a mandatory.

So as I rolled into the parking lot at work holding a car concert, I was in full voice along with Gene Watson. (If you are a fan of country and don’t know Gene Watson, well…you should…).

Anyhow, I turned the corner into the parking lot as a lady who had already parked her car skittered in front of me. She looked my way and I didn’t even miss a beat, I kept singing along. The lady just looked away and kept walking.

I thought, “Wow, she didn’t even give me a strange look.”

Then I realized…she probably thought I was talking on a Bluetooth headset.

Crazy cuts both ways.




Image is of Latvian mezzo-soprano Elina Garanca and a pretty extensive web search could not net me the attribution on this photo. I found photos from that same event on the European Commission page which allows for the use of photos with attribution.



Back in my day

You know, back in my day, if a person were to have occasion to be walking down the street, holding an entire conversation with only themselves, we’d call them nutty, cross the street to get away from them and cover our children’s eyes.

These days? No, it’s commonplace. We just figure it’s all normal.

I went downstairs this afternoon to the snack shop in my building for a cup of frozen yogurt. When I walked in the small shop, the oddball guy working there was deep in the middle of a conversation. By himself.

He was speaking, answering, getting a little lively in the discourse.

I naturally assumed he was on the Bluetooth headset for his cell phone.

So I went about the dispensation of some boysenberry no-fat fro-yo. When I went to pay, the young man was still chatting away, waving arms.

He saw me and was like, “oh hi, that will be two dollars.”

He wasn’t on the phone.

Nope. He’s just a good old-fashioned slice of crazy in a brown apron.

Hiding in plain sight.

Questionably sane people can’t even get noticed in this town anymore!