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Author Archives: kayewer

• Echos Through the Mall

  Posted at 2:41 am by kayewer, on December 7, 2008

  I shop with a friend once a week, and with six malls to choose from we get to see everything there is in retail.  For a Thursday in December at the mall on our most recent visit, the experience was surreal to say the least.

  None of the children were happy; in fact I saw lots of teary faces on bodies being dragged about by disagreeable parents.  Stores were empty, and aisles were wide and unpopulated enough to do cartwheels in.  Even Santa packed it in early considering the mall was staying open until 11:00.  I didn’t buy a thing, but my friend found a coat at 40% off.

  People seem to be disheartened by the commercialism associated with Christmas, and the world outlook has tarnished the religious aspect over the years.  The result is a date on the calendar that has reached the apex of frivolity and is now on the roller coaster ride down into the ground level track of indifference.  Kids get gifts year round, and then we tack on another date at the end of the year in which we somehow feel obligated to pack a year’s worth of gift buying into one, and we attribute it to somebody who was in reality a sainted humanitarian given a red suit persona by Coca Cola.

  Besides the ho-ho-hooey, on the shelves at the cubbyholes we call stores in our malls, nativity sets vie for our attention.  The hilarious greeting cards that sing inane carols share space with pious solemnity featuring an umpteenth rendition of holy events from long ago that may or may not have actually happened in December, depending on whom you ask.

  Maybe that’s the problem with the holiday season:  we’ve lost track of the truth, so we are shopping in a foggy lie.

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• The Wal-Mart Stampede: Backlash

  Posted at 1:25 am by kayewer, on November 30, 2008

  On Black Friday 2008 (November 28), a Wal-Mart in Valley Stream, NY became the scene of what I consider one of the most horrendous acts of inhumanity.  A worker attempting to open the door at the Green Acres mall location at its 5:00 AM opening was pushed to the ground as the metal door was mangled by a massive crowd of what was estimated as 2,000 people, and he was trampled to death as indifferent shoppers flowed into the store in their anxious quest to spend their money on post-Thanksgiving bargains.  Police officers administered CPR but the man was pronounced dead at the hospital an hour later.  A woman who is eight months pregnant was also taken to the hospital after getting jostled; mother and child fortunately should see Christmas this year.

  When the store staff attempted to close the location due to the death, it is said that angry customers exclaimed that they had been waiting all night for the privilege of shopping and the melee continued.  It is very likely that, had the Wal-Mart attempted to shut down, there would have been a seige.

  Ladies and gentlemen of the human race, who the hell do we think we are?  How can anybody who participated in that opening not be ashamed of themselves?  How could a person pull out a penny or a credit card, or the cashiers continue with business, knowing that somebody got KILLED for a manufactured piece of commerce.

  It’s a miserable enough time from the Friday after Thanksgiving to January 2, with US citizens starving to death, bankrupt, being beaten or abused or trying to conquer cancer.  Yet the consumeristic cha-cha-cha continues right through human misery and death.  Have you ever seen people so anxious, desperate, even begging for the privilege of giving their money over to a retail store.  Isn’t it sad that they would kill for this year’s hot item and not blink an eye.  It is enough to make the Almighty shudder in misery.

  Maybe Wal-Mart should play the security tape on local and/or national television, so the world can see who shared the responsibility for this maniacal display.  Surely the police are looking for those who destroyed the main door in their quest to race to that all-important bargain, and some accountability is needed for the sake of the dead man’s family.  Unfortunately nobody can prosecute the evil in human nature with the same methods, but those who were there should feel guilty of passive participation at least.

  Most of all, I feel for the gift recipients whose presents are tainted with the blood of a man whose family Christmas will never be the same again.

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• Moviegoing Ain’t What It Used To Be

  Posted at 1:17 am by kayewer, on November 23, 2008

  So last night I went to the opening night for the movie version of Twilight and took my mother along.  We went to our favorite theatre which recently changed ownership and now allows more mainstream films and the admission of young people (only older children were allowed under the old regime and no G movies were on the roster).

  The house was packed with tweens, teens and a stewpot of dark lurker types and a few vanilla moviegoers like us waiting for the seating to begin.  Believe it or not, they began admitting 45 minutes before showtime and the best seats already were marked with discarded coats while their owners mingled in the lobby.  We managed to get a second tier pair of seats together with no tall people sitting in front of us, so we sat and had popcorn for dinner while watching the free slide show on the movie screen for 40 minutes.

  The school crowd created a high-pitched, somewhat nasal (I already wrote about this teen phenomenon, so I won’t complain again here) and constant din as familiar faces from their cliques appeared in the house and were hugged or fist-bumped to death or subjected to introductions around the room.  Somebody decided to serve as timekeeper and would announce the countdown enthusiastically until the start ran past its scheduled time:  at least nobody started impatient chanting.

  Once the previews began the crowd settled down with resignation until the familiar “Feature Presentation” trailer appeared onscreen, and then somebody yelled “Take your pants off, Edward Cullen,” to a reply of screams as if we were seated at a Beatles reunion.

  Even audience participation at Rocky Horror Picture Show was not crotch obsessed, and Stephenie Meyer certainly would not have expected that comment to stem from what she wrote in four bestselling novels.  My mother and I looked at each other and saw we were both worried about how our appreciation of the film would be helped or hampered by such a vocal crowd.

  We really didn’t have to worry.  Sure there were lots of giggles, shrieks and a knowing “woooo” or two at choice moments,  but Twilight was easy and enjoyable to view and share with others.  We even had the oppportunity to talk to some total strangers (moms) who had brought their entourage along (since those folks were years from obtaining learning permits), and the camaraderie was relaxing.  For two hours and two minutes (plus the trailers and evacuation notice), Twilight was worth the anticipation and experience.

  I hope that young lady was not disappointed that Robert Pattinson’s Edward did not doff his pants.

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• This Christmas Food Thing

  Posted at 12:41 am by kayewer, on November 16, 2008

  No wonder everybody gets so fat around the holidays.  It isn’t the dinners that cause the problem; it’s the food you send and get sent by mail.

  Did anybody ever stop to consider who far in advance those catalogue people start baking, pouring, molding and packing those little pots of cheese, tins of popcorn and vacuum packed smoked meats to mail via the parcel system to wreath festooned doorways the world over?  Food by mail gives me the hinkeys anyway.  If the supermarket doesn’t carry it, or if I can’t find it within an hour’s drive of home, I don’t think it’s worth it.

  It seems strange to me to have some poor Maine lobster thrown into a box with some survival munchies to keep it alive, sent tooling through some shipping facility, parked in cargo on a plane and flown to someplace that probably never sees an ocean, only to see it arrive at a family’s doorstep, have some happy cook throw open the lid and shout with glee, “Oh ducky, it’s the lobster we’re going to execute for dinner tonight.”  Mind you, I’m not a vegetarian, and I don’t have a problem with going out and buying meat that has been prepared in a package for me, and I go to Red Lobster regularly, but I will not be the executioner of some poor crustacean living out its last days in a fish tank, and I won’t let somebody ship one to me.

  Those little containers of twenty different cheese spreads can look like a gourmet dream, but one time I had a shipment of those and only found one to be enjoyable let alone edible.

  If I’m going to ship something to somebody as a holiday gift, I’ll make it something really useful like a potholder or a gift certificate, not a dried and processed overpriced thingajiggy from who knows where.

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• Something Scratchy

  Posted at 12:53 am by kayewer, on November 2, 2008

  I’ve noticed something strange lately:  it seems some folks are toying around with their license plates.

  Sure, people put funny frames around their plates, which itself is a problem.  Have you ever gotten too close to a vehicle ahead of you simply to get a clearer view of what is written on the license plate frame?  Some frames obliterate the information on the top and bottom of the plate, which is where the state name is normally located.  That I’ve always had an issue about.

  What I’ve noticed is that a large number of plates seem to be missing paint around the numbers and letters.  If the folks making the plates found a defect in the painting process, I’m sure they would do something about it, but in this case the missing paint shows traces of scratches around the imprints.  This would lead me to believe that people are actually taking steel wool to their plate numbers.

  This is most disturbing when one stops to wonder why anybody would want to disrupt the readability of their vehicle’s identification, and the obvious answer is to avoid such identification.  Are there that many people afraid of the law driving around our highways?  Would you want to share the road with them?  It’s bad enough to deal with the fact that our roadways are becoming anarchist Autobahns in which everybody feels compelled to disregard speed limits and common sense to get where they’re going, but when one has to resort to disguise to do so, that is sad indeed.  I’m just saying. . . .

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• The Ugly Truth

  Posted at 11:58 pm by kayewer, on October 18, 2008

  It’s terrible to be an older adult with pepperoni size acne, but I had a major breakout this past week which, I was extremely self-conscious and vain, would have kept me indoors in a dark corner of the house until it cleared up.  As it turned out, I made do with the usual makeup efforts that were ineffective, and since my office cubicle is in a corner I didn’t have to gross out anybody.

  Why can we decode the human genome but we can’t fix acne?

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• On vacation

  Posted at 1:05 am by kayewer, on October 5, 2008

  Well, the mind is on vacation, anyway.  That’s what happens when your whole life centers around work, school, eating, reading and sleeping and nothing else.  With a paper due it’s not easy to take one’s mind off the paper topic.  While eating dinner I’m mulling over what references I will use on page six.  I wake up remembering I forgot to add a footnote.  I’ve lapsed into that state of mind that is the human in autumn.  It may take a week or two to set things right.  Have patience:  I have no other choice.

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• A Battery of Complaints

  Posted at 12:54 am by kayewer, on September 21, 2008

  To start with, I find it amazing and downright disturbing that I can’t go into an office supply or electronics store and buy a battery for a laptop computer.  I checked this out, since I know laptops are popular choices these days, and I figured it would be worth looking into.  Why are the batteries only available to order online?  If they run out, they’re likely to do so at a critical moment, so don’t you think the stores would want to get your money and sell you a replacement in such an emergency?  I saw batteries for every kind of electronic gizmo, but a high-end purchase like a laptop?  I don’t get it?

  I stopped in Office Depot this past week.  It wasn’t my usual location, but it was near my office, so I expected nothing to be different.  Well, it was.  The staff didn’t even know I was there.  They were engaged in a conversation at the copy corner.  The outside was deplorable, with peeling signage and a parking lot that was difficult to navigate.  Since there is an Office Max within a quarter mile, I’ll probably stop there next time.

  I stopped in the AT&T phone store this past week as well, to buy something for my cell phone.  When I stepped into the store, people at various times turned to look at me, then turned away as if I were walking carrion.  Couldn’t figure out why:  I had just showered, my clothes were neat and I certainly wasn’t a “What Not to Wear” candidate, and I hadn’t done anything to draw attention to myself except walk in.  Maybe that’s it:  I walked in on something and they wanted me to leave (?).

  I went to Macy’s this past week:  they’re putting up Christmas garland.  I left.

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• The Why Behind the Whiny Voices?

  Posted at 12:54 am by kayewer, on September 14, 2008

  My mother made an interesting observation today:  why are women suddenly talking so high and in a nasal pitch?  What ever happened to the sultry deep Ingrid Bergman voice that signals maturity and draws males like moths to the conjugal flame?

  If one were to stand twenty young women together and ask them to read a sentence, they’d all sound alike.  They’d all look alike too, of course, if they were all high school age, but the point is that they all seem to have bad colds or sinus conditions, causing them to speak at a whiny mosquito-like drone.

  Even the female weather forecasters (excuse me, maybe I should say meteorologists) sound this way.  Nobody on the morning news seems to speak at a level below that of an annoying cartoon character.  The sound is almost like the Chipmunks, only less endearing to listen to in the long term.

  Play back that famous line from the original version of The Fly:  “Helllllp meeeeeee. . . .” and you may notice no difference between poor Vincent Price played back at the wrong speed and your average female these days.  I never know the ages of women I’m with in dressing rooms, because the cacophony is all at the same level.  Maybe I’ve been shopping in Stepford, and in the stalls next to me are all those wives waiting for a chance to convert me to a drone clone.

  I don’t know if this is a new trend or not.  Maybe my suspicions that overusage of earbuds are causing people to develop a loss of hearing that affects bass tones are correct (maybe we need the advice of a good audiologist on this site).  Think about it.  All that boom-box high volume bass in your ears cannot be right for the hearinig.  The more you need to turn it up, the more likely you are losing your ability to actually process or “hear” it.  As a result, you modulate your own voice to make yourself heard, and all your friends are falling into the same trap.  But that’s just my theory.

  So much for the sultry ladies of yesteryear.  If this trend continues, we may all find ourselves in the hearing aid store saying “Hellllp meeeeeeeee. . . .”

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• An Open Letter to the Supermarket Industry

  Posted at 12:34 am by kayewer, on August 31, 2008

  I wish to politely complain about the ritual/fiasco that is the checkout aisle.  Every week I leave the market with a markedly higher blood pressure than when I first arrived, because the experience of accounting for bagging my purchases is a relentless assault on my sense of security.

  I would try the self checkout kiosk, but I have found that the computer is much too difficult to deal with.  I learned that I can’t remove a bag from the carefully calibrated turntable, even if it is packed to my satisfaction and I elect to put it in my cart and start another bag.  Also, I feel funny about a voice talking to me while I’m trying to arrange my purchases and scan them to its satisfaction:  I’m not used to being talked to by the checkers, so the computer doesn’t make up for anything.

  I’m never allowed to take my time to put paper in plastic so I can carry my purchases comfortably.  If the supermarket chains don’t want us to put paper in plastic, kindly put handles on the paper bags.  I’ve also found that the paper bags are never the right size to fit nimbly inside the plastic bags.  Sometimes I can’t get them open when I do manage to square them off inside each other, and by this time the efficient checker has started shoving my rung up purchases down at me faster than I can bag them.

  I know the checkers are instructed to move the line along, and these poor employees are already in pain from prolonged standing and would like to take a break between customers, but why do they rush me so?  I have tried (if I have time) to place the items I plan to put in the bottom of a bag first, frozen in the front, followed by refrigerated items, then boxes, bags, fragile items and so on.  My failure to set the items into bags fast enough results in the checker popping open a fresh bag and speedily throwing the rest of my waiting items willy-nilly into them.  Sometimes I find myself with one bag of pretzels stuck horizontally into one plastic bag as if it was an afterthought.

  Can’t things be more relaxed?  Maybe you should have aisles for “leisurely checkout.”  Maybe you should have a relay team to do the bagging for us.  Or maybe you should just stop cramming the whole checkout experience into a marathon pace and lighten up a bit.

  Sincerely. . . .

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