Here comes the turnip truck!
Hello Oprah, Tina, Ellen and Margaret.
So, this week’s blog is a long one and because it is so long I suggest you don’t read it all during one sitting. Stretch it out over a few days or weeks if you want to. In reviewing my work schedule for the next month, I already know I won’t be able to write again for a couple of weeks. Lots to do, Friends. Lots to do.
For your convenience I’ve separated this blog into chapters so that you can easily step away from it and find your place again at the next sitting. Of course, I’m assuming you don’t have the forgetful disease highlighted in an earlier post.
CHAPTER 1: KELLIE HAJJAR AND LOLA
When Kellie Hajjar (Peter Salhaney’s Auntie and Godmama) suggested I market her CD on my blog, I told her I didn’t do such things with or on my weapon of social media. My blog was only to make people laugh… and originally it was a vehicle for reaching out to Oprah, Tina and Ellen. The truth is I didn’t want to be responsible for pitching anything to my family, friends and/or strangers that might have sucked and as I hadn’t actually listened to her CDs before this conversation I didn’t know where they fell on the sucky-to-sensational spectrum.
Well, guess what? I was very impressed by this singer/songwriter’s amazing talent!
I popped Kellie’s CDs into my computer the morning after she gave them to me and from the first note I was toe tapping away while working my body to the bone.
So, yes, I will market Kellie Hajjar and her Collection O’ CDs to the entire world! Note: even though, to-date, I’ve only listened to the two CDs she gave me, I’m sure the others rock the jazzy-meter too. How can they not? Trust me – Kellie is well on her way to Famousville and I’m going to ride her coattails all the way there.
Move over Margaret! I am going to be Kellie’s Mama Rose too!
I’LL BE MAMA MIA ROSE!
Kellie, I’ll make you a star, Baby!
In addition to being your Mama Mia Rose, I can also be your sole DOO-WOP GIRL. It will be wonderful. I’ll be my own Mama Mia Rose too!
Think about it… think about it … THINK ABOUT IT!
And, then have your agent call my agent.
Following (this paragraph) is one of Kellie’s CD covers – I refurbished it a bit. OK! OK! … I doctored the CD cover and put myself in the background because that is what I do and Kellie said I could anyway. I’m the one with hat and the yellow dress.
I know what you are thinking, “Toni, what is up with the bright yellow dress you are wearing in that photograph?” Well, friends, my name used to be Lola and I was a showgirl, but that was 20 years ago when I worked The Techno. (The Techno was a dance club of my own imagining.)
CHAPTER 2: THE TECHNO
Today the building that once housed the afore-mentioned dance club thumps with a different techno beat. The building itself retains the famous name, The Techno, but the dance club of 20 years ago has transformed into a safe-haven for washed-up social media innovators. (Sadly, these innovators let technology consume them and then they went crazy.)
The word TECHNO is now an acronym for Technologically Evolved Computer Hermit Nutsoes Organization.
The average age of the
home’s organization’s clientele is 30-40 years old. Many of the folks in residence here just couldn’t keep up with the ever changing changes in social media and they went bazurk. On the upside, they are all very rich when they enter this facility!
To make residents feel “normal” the following sign hangs on the outside of each person’s bedroom door:
The Techno is a nice place. Real nurses maintain the clients’ medication, eating and exercise schedules. Exercise activities include, but are not limited to, group sports such as: synchronized swimming, soccer and Frisbee. Individual-based sports like archery are not encouraged at The Techno because being alone all day is exactly how the clients at The Techno got into this
mess beautiful and charming facility in the first place.
Unfortunately, when they are ready to move on (or when the organization sucks them dry and they have no money left), they wander the streets looking for a new life purpose. Fear not, to date each person evicted from this facility has found gratifying work in the arts and have sworn off all technology forever.
CHAPTER 3: CELL PHONES GIVE YOU CANCER
In truth, Kellie Hajjar doesn’t really need my help marketing her CDs because she is more connected to the world than I am.
Firstly, she is not afraid to use her cell phone. I am because cell phones can give you brain cancer. Margaret and some of my other friends mock me because I think this, but the joke is on them because it has been scientifically proven.
Nextly, Kellie has a Facebook page (I do not), she has been on radio shows (I have not), she sings in cool clubs (I do not), she is a party/club DJ (I am not), and people – especially senior citizens – actually like her (sadly, this is not true for me either – especially after posting Boom Boom Pow: The Senior Citizen Remix).
I think Kellie felt connected to me because we are both writers and artists and because she thinks I’m cutting an edge into Social Media like she is. She thinks that I’m hip and trendy. Why wouldn’t she think this? After all, I have a cool and fun blog with
only 34 (of the awesomest) subscribers! If my assessment of Kellie’s thoughts is correct, then she has grossly misjudged me. I’m not the social media maven I seem to be. I’m sorry Kellie. You deserve so much better.
While I do blog (undertheturniptruck.wordpress.com), have a website (athenatheatreworks.com), and Skype with a few friends (Kerry in North Carolina) and family (Federica in Italy), there is not much else I enjoy doing on the technological front. I know. I know. Compared to the rest of the entire world I’m a freak. I can’t help it. I am terrified of what technology can do to me and I don’t want to end up in The Techno with the other crazies. I hide away from all such deadly temptations when I can.
Look, I wasn’t born under a turnip truck nor did I fall from one. I understand how technology in general and social media specifically has enriched lives and made things easier for people. And I admit that there are certain things that are fun to do, like writing this blog or Googling all my weird ailments; but, I miss the simple life. Whatever happened to the days of Ole when people read books by the warmth of a fireplace and sent messages to each other via The Pony Express.
Whatever happened to the days when all women had to do was get up, take a bath and sew handkerchiefs all day. Whatever happened to the days when women could visit with neighbors on a whim, take walks in the fresh dewy air and go shopping for pretty dresses and corsets whenever they wanted to? I want those days back! Other than the various civil wars that raged, life was simpler then.
These are the times I miss the most in my past-life recollections.
CHAPTER 4: TWEET THIS!
I don’t have a Facebook page because I prefer to communicate with people the old-fashioned way: in person … on the phone … through email. I don’t really have time for the friends and family I currently own – adding more elements (people) to the mix would be a mistake. Plus, for the most part, I’m friends with the people whom I like and if I don’t like you why would I want to be friends with you? I certainly don’t want The Unwanted to use Facebook to find me or friend me or poke me or creep on me and I don’t want to talk to them.
There are, however, a few people from my past that I would like to chat with again like my old college chum: Joy Korngut. Joy Korngut, are you out there? Joy, if you are out there write me a letter and snail mail along.
I don’t Tweet either because Tweeting is for the birds. To all you Twitter aficionados I say: TWEET THIS! … and please leave me alone. I really don’t want to join your cult, but thank you for asking me … several hundred times.
I also find the ceaseless updates that people constantly share on the countless social media sites annoying and useless. Though I know there are many of you who would disagree with me, I do not care about other people’s bowel movements, eating habits, goings-on, likes or dislikes. I do not care about anyone’s status, political or religious viewpoints, or what’s on their mind.
I do not like green eggs and ham. My name is really Sam.
What scares me the most is that within the underbelly of all that is social media there festers the immense potential that anyone who accidentally (or intentionally) plagiarizes, defames or popularizes other people can have their pants sued off for wrongdoing. It’s too stressful and I don’t want anyone to take my pants away. Everyday I wonder if this innocent little blog of mine will lead to trouble. Should I abort now? Will George Lucas (should he stumble across this blog somehow) be mad at me and sue because I “tampered with” one of his Star Wars photos. It was all in good fun, George. Please don’t hurt me.
My iPad-wielding husband loves all things media related. He loves to Google, to giggle and to play Angry Birds. He loves finding out about the goings-on in the lives of the people closest to him via Facebook. I think his love is misplaced.
My Suggestion: If you truly want to stay in touch with your friends and family then invite them over for coffee, tea or cocoa and show them recent photos you’ve taken; and, if you have important information to share with these people that can’t wait for a visit, call them on the phone and talk to them about it.
It seems we are all abolishing the persons in personal relationships.
Jim has lots of “friends” on Facebook – about two of them are real and the rest of them are not. Jim got into this predicament because he keeps accepting requests for friendships from people he doesn’t know or can’t remember just because he feels bad clicking the “ignore” option.
Truth: Unless you are famous, most of your Facebook “friends” do not really care about what you have to say unless you really, truly care about what they have to say first. But this is okay. Don’t be sad. Because the chances are you don’t really give a toot what others have to say either – unless they are on the cover of People Magazine. I’m not saying this is true for everybody – just 99% of the social media-using community.
CHAPTER 5: ANOTHER BIRD
Although I’m not technologically advanced like Jim is, we do agree on one thing and that is the true allegation that smart phones are turning human beings into robot-like beings little by little.
Look, I like my cell phone in spite of the health risks using it presents (How else would Margaret and I communicate?), but I know when to put it away! It seems that every time Jim and I go out to dinner, whether we go to the bar down the street or a fancy-shmancy restaurant, there is always, without fail, a minimum of one couple sitting together and ignoring each other while they play on their phones for the entire meal. I guess that Angry Birds game really is addictive.
We’ve also gone to dinner with friends who are constantly checking/sending emails, or checking/sending text messages or Googling their latest disease.
Friends, I ask you: Where is the love?
I understand that people want to keep their cell phones at hand in case of an emergency (you never know when Angelina Jolie or Arnold Schwarzenegger will be calling you for a date). But I also know that if there’s an emergency my loved one(s) – or the hospital – will call me repeatedly in a matter of minutes until I pick up the phone. It is not okay for you to keep your phone on the table beside your water glass, dinner plate or in your hand. Nor is it ever okay to start any technological communication at a dinner table unless you are calling 911 in an emergency.
Here is a helpful hint for all you worry-warts who are afraid you will ignore an important call: set a special ring tone (the same ring tone) for your local hospital, police department, fire house and important family members and should this ring tone blare when you are out with friends you can answer it. However, you must instruct your loved ones and all emergency personnel not to call you unless it is really, really important.
CHAPTER 6: IN THE END
In the end, nobody wants to die because of technology, so if you must use it please be responsible – especially when operating a motor vehicle.
Texting and driving is bad … unless, or course, you are looking for a death sentence – yours or someone else’s. Seriously, there is nothing you need to text that is so important it cannot wait until you have safely parked your car … and, no, being stopped at a red light does not count as being parked, folks.
I know that many people enjoy keeping track of the time on their cell phones, but this, too, is annoying. If keeping track of the time is so important to you then WEAR A WATCH! That is what we did in the olden days.
My friend Di-Di told me that she heard that wearing a watch to a job interview can actually cost you the job. She says that “they” say wearing a watch is a sign to some short-sighted employers (short-sighted is my word and not Di-Di’s) that you are not hip or technologically savvy. I don’t agree with this viewpoint. I think there are some really cool watch designs that can make a person look very modern and trendy. See below for some examples.
Plus, my husband works for a watch company – they sell watches by the dozens – and they are having their best year ever! The watches his company sells are worn on one’s wrist, they are not inserted into cell phones.
Alas, I do see the irony in a social-mediaphobe like myself writing a blog like this. I also recognize that most people don’t even care to read the contents of this blog – and if you are still reading it the chances are you are only doing so because I begged you to and you are a good friend and I thank you for the support. But please know that for as many blog supporters as I have, there are a hundred more who wouldn’t succumb to my constant requests to either subscribe or even glance at my blog and I don’t blame them one bit. All things technical overwhelm them …
… and to avoid social media overload they just shut down.
All joking aside, if you are a creature who maximizes any and all social media resources, then give a local girl a chance and let your followers know that Kellie Hajjar’s music is fantabulous and worth twittering or posting about.
Her only downfall is that she thought I was more phat and funky than I actually am.
Good luck, Kellie!
I’m going to Google the symptoms of a broken foot now … I hope I won’t need a cast.
Until next time…
I’m turning off the turnip truck.