Susan's Scribblings the Blog

A writer from the Philadelphia area shares the week online.
Susan's Scribblings the Blog
  • Who the Heck is Kayewer?
    • The Jeans Day Rebellion

      Posted at 2:54 am by kayewer, on August 31, 2014

      My company just changed the dress code, and my wardrobe is now out of style. Maybe it was all along anyway. Office environments usually banned jeans, but since we are in a call center and do not have contact with the general public, the company listened to the suggestions of the rank and file and decided that associates working in call centers could wear jeans all the time, starting the day after Labor Day. This means that Tuesday will be considered by many to be Delivery From Office Attire Day.

      But not for me. Deliver me from denim.

      I don’t really like jeans. I was in the sixth grade before I had my first pair (Levi’s, of course), and over the years I have only had one or two pair in my closet for when I worked in the yard. For one thing, they’re stiff, and by the time you wash them enough to be soft, they’re not wearable anymore. Don’t tell me about pre-washed and “distressed” jeans which have been crushed by rocks, discolored by acids or bleaching methods or mauled by zoo tigers (they really do sell them: look it up), because if they’re that way to begin with, how many more wears can you get from them before you have to throw them out?

      For another thing, jeans have seams so thick in the crotch that, if you are skinny like Twiggy, you can teeter totter from one buttock to another when you sit down. Also, the pockets are too tight at the openings, and made of flimsy material inside. If you got a hole in the pocket, it would take five minutes to force your hand inside to find out your change was missing. If you’re lucky, the pant legs would be tight enough that you might find a dime stuck to your thigh.

      The big debate about dress codes is whether worker productivity goes up or down depending upon what they wear. We are delving into a science based upon comfort and its effect on self esteem. I’m sure the corporate idea was to let the employees know that they listen to us. They want to see happier employees so they can get good work from us. If people are comfortable in jeans, they feel, so be it.

      It’s likely that a woman in a corset from days gone by would not produce much good work sitting in a cubicle. No ergonomic chair on earth could make that torso torture device feel any more comfortable. Today, though, we have a variety of clothing options to look professional. Even in a call center, without suits or business attire, one can be comfortable and stylish and not resort to jeans attire.

      So are we truly a nation of slouchy bums, and should corporate America feel as comfortable in Bruce Springsteen style working class duds, in an office environment, as in a suit or dress? Whether we want to believe it or not, we do judge our environment by what we see in its people, and jeans don’t come off as dressy, classy or smart. Nobody wears denim at an awards ceremony, and one would not approach a monarch in distressed boot cut jeans.

      Also, wearing jeans in my company used to be a treat and privilege: we handed out coupons for the right to wear jeans as rewards and incentives, and certain post-holidays were designated as “jeans days.” Now that is gone. What shall we do for incentives that won’t cost money? The entire clothing game has now changed, and I’m stuck with a closet full of clothes in which I will now look like a rebel.

      So what do I do with my regular clothes? To play it safe when the new dress code takes effect on Tuesday, I hit up Kohl’s for two more pairs of jeans. I have a feeling that the jeans will come off when I get home. At my age, I don’t think denim will be my comfort clothes of choice. It’s an unofficial uniform I can accept, but come 5:00 I can rebel in my old standbys. And I don’t have to wear them to work in the yard.

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      Posted in Commentary | 0 Comments | Tagged jeans in the office, office dress code
    • Women at Twerk

      Posted at 1:44 am by kayewer, on August 24, 2014

      I can’t twerk. I found that out today while trying to illustrate the content of a video on YouTube® to my mother:

      I had seen the video about an inflatable tube guy–the type designed to draw attention at car dealers and outdoor events featuring live disc jockeys–which had become kinked and it’s “head” stuck to a telephone pole. The resulting motion created by the fan at its bottom looked like the tubular dude was twerking, but my impression looked more like a bad yoga move, or maybe a bad “my pantyhose are in a bind” move.

      So is it a sign of my age, or of my flagging sexuality, when I can’t parlay the “boo-tay” like some other women? Probably not. There are still men out there (note I say “men,” not “guys”) who look for wit, intelligence or somebody who is fun to be with, and who don’t want to be Alan Thicke if I’m going to be Miley Cyrus. So my “boo-tay” has no beauty and the junk just lies in the trunk. Tyra Banks would say I can’t “tooch” either. She’s right. We older women may well have a middle-age gut that looks more shapely than what we sit upon.

      At the midlife point in women’s lives we all have those moments of thinking about how sexy we still are or are not. I’ve never been one to plug the sexual side, and my bumps and grinds have always been more like collisions and chainsaw hamburger. Sure the men look at the twerkers, and they marry some of them (and divorce them, too), but I will just concentrate on walking tall and in a straight line. And I’ll leave the twerking to the experts, like the tube guy.

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      Posted in Commentary | 0 Comments | Tagged twerking
    • So Monstrous

      Posted at 2:22 am by kayewer, on August 17, 2014

      I just came from the Monster-Mania convention, and boy are my feet tired. Really. Rule of thumb at any convention event is “no seats allowed.” All the better to encourage walking among the vendors, of which there are many. I walked off about ten pounds. My friend picked up tee-shirts and various little things, while I came out with a horrific looking soda can cozy. Last year I got a tee myself, but since admission was $35, that put a bit of a dent in my spending loot. Besides, I don’t think my boss would like a horror film gewgaw sitting at my cubicle.

      Twice a year a hotel in Cherry Hill, NJ is packed tighter than a creepy clown car, swarming with horror buffs, so we go at least once. I like horror, but I’m selective, preferring vampire fare to the zombies (whom I consider reanimated, not undead), slashers and mutants. People arrive casually dressed, but some are in costume to be seen and talked about and give the children a scare. Over a few hours I saw Anubis (one of the best costumes), a few incarnations of the Joker, clowns of all shapes and sizes, military zombies and even the killer Buffalo Bill from “Silence of the Lambs” in his creepy drag outfit (unfortunately he had to wear flesh tone undies). The conventions also have visiting cult celebrities, and this one featured Adam West (Batman) and Peter Mayhew (Chewbacca), both of whom I spotted in the autograph lounge.

      The “dead”-icated convention fans stay the entire weekend, but an afternoon is enough for me. The next event comes in the spring, and my friend and I are talking about going in costume ourselves, to be seen and give the kids a scare. Now we just need a good idea for a duo (not a dynamic one) costume. I thought about the twin girls in “The Shining,” but we don’t look alike. Maybe if we go as ourselves, that will be scary enough.

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      Posted in Uncategorized | 1 Comment
    • Sports Authorita

      Posted at 1:35 am by kayewer, on August 10, 2014

      Every time I go grocery shopping, I get a receipt and a coupon for Sports Authority®. They both go in the shredder. Mostly because my body is not shredded or ripped, so I shred the paper instead.

      I don’t feel comfortable enough to enter a sporting goods store. I had quite an experience when I went to a competitor–Dick’s–to get a supply of gift cards for one of my superiors last holiday season. The trek to the checkout aisle was like a hiking expedition and obstacle course wrapped up in one. I had to duck under canoes, avoid the groping sleeves of heavy duty outerwear and wriggle through bins of official sport gear just to buy stuff which fit into a bag the size of a CD case. I probably burned 200 calories without touching a single piece of fitness gear.

      Such things as gift card runs fall under related administrative assistant duties. Maybe, subliminally, somebody was also trying to tell me something, because stepping through the automated sliding doors of a sporting goods store when you are obviously out of shape (and out of your element) is like an alien’s first moments outside the mother ship on our planet. Take me to your litter, as I’m about to collapse from sensory overload. If there is an activity to do, it’s in your face in a sports store, so for those of us who are physically inept, it’s like a vacation in Hell: you wouldn’t normally want to go there, but it’s an experience you won’t likely forget if it’s not your thing in the first place.

      Throughout my school years the physical education crowd tried their darndest to get me to climb a rope, swing on uneven parallel bars, dunk a basket or thwack a golf ball, It never happened. Since I set my feet outside the boundaries of high school for the final time, not once have I needed to climb a rope, swing on uneven parallel bars or aim for anything beyond the living room wastebasket (and I miss that on many occasions). As for golf, I stick to miniature. But darn it, the supermarkets and Sports Authority® are determined to get me into their store.

      Maybe it’s something I’m buying, like the occasional bag of chips. It certainly couldn’t be my Greek yogurt, as that’s supposed to be good for you. “Gee, this customer is buying those chips again, so let’s try to scare some of that excess fat off her by luring her into Sports Authority® with twenty percent off anything but a gift card.”

      I respect the people who can do sports. They make up for those of us who can’t. They also deal with injuries better than most people. They shake it off and bounce back. I bruised myself the other week in my own kitchen, but if I wanted to look cool I could always lie and say I got hit by a mini golf ball.

      Anyway, there is no way I am going to take up a sport at this stage in my life. Unless it involves competitive potato chip eating.

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      Posted in Commentary | 0 Comments | Tagged dick's sporting goods, sports authority
    • Demonic Possessions

      Posted at 1:54 am by kayewer, on August 3, 2014

      A thought came to  me while at Wal-Mart today: another junk season is here. The summer junk is half price and the new junk is ready to roll. I saw racks of summer clothing, brightly colored plastic tumblers, pool noodles, iced tea mixes and flip flops, interspersed with back-to-school notebooks, multi-packs of dorm supplies and the first of the long sleeved tops.

      We are a society obsessed with our seasonal collections and purges, when we throw out the notebook with thirty good pages in it into the trash because the new one at the store is only fifty cents and a bargain. That is, if you find the old notebook. It may be in a pile with some old comic books or hiding under the old model I-Pad. When you have too many of these things–clothes the kids may have outgrown, but you can’t get them to sit still long enough to try them on, the remaining books on the “to read list” from last year, the six cosmetics you tried before you found one that worked–you wind up with clutter.

      Whole reality programs are devoted to clutter. It seems some of us can lose control of our homes’ cleanliness because of clutter. A need to keep things ready for use someday can become an obsession which is bad for one’s mental health and can grow into a health hazard. Yet I have seen a strange phenomenon in our public spaces in which a container or wrapper, the second after the product within is consumed, becomes untouchable and gets dropped to the ground instantly, whether a trashcan is within reach or not. When you see a bag from a fast food place sitting in the middle of a parking lot, you know what I mean. If we could apply that philosophy to our indoor lives, life would be simpler and less likely to become a hoarder’s paradise.

      There is something sad about hoarders. They can often be forgotten individuals with no human contact outside their homes and/or enabling family members or a few close friends who overlook the problem. The hoarder wants to still be useful, and thus so does their clutter. The hoarder won’t throw out the notebook with thirty good pages in it, because somebody could use it. Somebody who can’t afford fifty cents would love to have that used notebook for free, and the hoarder would be able to serve a purpose by having it available for them.

      The middle ground between the throwaway society and the hoarding society is such a tenuous expanse, and our earth is filled with more clutter than a million hoarder’s houses, yet we still want the new thing and still want to get the empty soda cup out of our hands at once.

      A great family project would be to do an annual purge party, in which the old stuff is donated or thrown out if it really can’t be used, the useful can be refurbished (that notebook might look great with some craft tape or some pictures and glue) and you can save money you don’t need to spend on new stuff.

      As for hoarders, they need to feel important and useful. They are, after all, taking charge of all the junk others might throw away. Clean-out crews often just throw everything into a truck and take it away, and hoarders tend to get upset because they feel their collections are being wasted. We need to take a better look at how we deal with our stuff, not throw it out haphazardly, not waste it  nor let it collect and draw dust, bugs or worse. Things do have a purpose, so donate, recycle or buy new with that in mind. Don’t be ruled by the trendy, and don’t take the old for granted.

      And take that soft drink cup those ten steps to the trashcan.

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      Posted in Commentary | 0 Comments | Tagged clutter, decluttering, hoarding, possessions, shopaholics
    • Movie Blues

      Posted at 2:51 am by kayewer, on July 27, 2014

      After four decades of watching movies, I finally saw one that I can honestly say was the most disappointing ever. If it’s taken this long to see a movie that bad, I feel either truly blessed or amazingly tolerant of cinematic garbage, because the best movie critics have lists of bad movies miles long, and I have only two. Sure, there are bad movies on the list, but only the worst of the worst deserve to be on a list of two.

      The only movie I ever walked out of was “Altered States,” the William Hurt movie about isolation tanks and strange otherworldly dreams and such. I did see it through years later, but it still didn’t impress me.

      Last week I went with a friend to see “Snowpiercer,” the Joon-ho Bong directed thriller set aboard a train travelling through a post-apocalyptic sub-zero world, with a rear car filled with rebellious lower class survivors attempting to win access to the privileges of the rich at the engine. The Asian inspired imagery and dark theme were interesting, but I didn’t grip my seat rest. In today’s vernacular, I’d rate it a “meh.”

      Out of curiosity, I rented and watched “Argento’s Dracula” (“Dracula 3D”), a project by a well-known director of horror films. It was done so horribly that it will take me days to construct a review, and has prompted me to return to an old website of mine and post the said review when completed. I guess you know I really feel strongly about this project.

      The difficulties of being a movie reviewer become apparent when one is compelled to sit through an entire bad film to find out if there is anything–maybe a decent ending–to add some positivity to the process of discussing it. I’m sure critics like the blessed, late Roger Ebert would have liked to spend their time watching better films than some of the celluloid denizens from the seventh sub-basement of hell they had to endure for the sake of warning others away.

      Don’t bother renting “Argento’s Dracula” unless you are a fan of the director or its stars and want them to get some coffee and donut money from the distributor. As for me, I’ll rent something with a bit more bite for my buck and hope it gets better from here.

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      Posted in Commentary, Theatre/Movies/Entertainment | 2 Comments | Tagged Altered States, Argento's Dracula, Snowpiercer movie
    • What’s Ahead for My Eye

      Posted at 1:52 am by kayewer, on July 20, 2014

      I had a little accident last week. I tripped up some steps into my kitchen, bopped my head on the edge of the dry sink and cut my arm. Amazingly there was practically no pain, but my forehead did begin to swell, so I applied ice, popped an Aleve® (only needed one) and my life went on.

      Over the next three days, my arm put on a dazzling display of colors, from blues and greens to yellows and purples (one patch was a particularly pleasant lavender I would like to repaint a room in), and whatever discoloration I could have had on my forehead dispersed and took a journey in a southeasterly direction down the bridge of my nose, below my eye and across my cheek. The bruising is a perfect half-diamond on my face, with my forehead looking as if nothing happened.

      I look like somebody punched me, but only one person has actually come out and said anything about it. Of course they knew that I am single and not in a volatile relationship or prone to picking fights in bars, so they felt comfortable showing genuine concern. It seems the rest of the world has become so jaded by body piercings, O-rings the size of soda cans in earlobes and tattoos in unlikely places, my bruised eye is tame by comparison.

      I wonder, however, if I were in a relationship in which my partner used violence, somebody reaching out to ask about my eye might make a difference if I were the kind of person who didn’t know where to turn for help. Would it be so improper to say, “Gee, may I ask about your eye?”

      Anyway, I know the discoloration will go away in a few more days, and thank goodness there are makeup products out there to help hide the worst of it. And I didn’t dent the dry sink.

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      Posted in Commentary | 0 Comments | Tagged bruising, head injury
    • Chapman Changed Up Our Evening

      Posted at 2:30 am by kayewer, on July 13, 2014

      I came home the other night to find my mother seated in front of the television, watching a PBS music program, and it wasn’t Lawrence Welk.

      She was watching a fellow named Emmett Chapman and a band called the Stick Men (which includes King Crimson associated musician Tony Levin), demonstrate a versatile instrument he invented: the Chapman Stick, a device resembling a guitar with extra frets, no filled-out body to speak of, and a bevy of ways to play it and/or imitate or enhance other instruments. It can be strummed or tapped, adjusted to produce a large variety of sounds (like bass and harmonies with chords) all at once.

      The sound was mesmerizing and fun to listen to, and it was interesting to bridge the gap in our ages and appreciate something unique in modern music: my mother doesn’t particularly like much past the Sinatra era, but she liked this. I enjoyed the music and overlooked some of the titles of the pieces (“Lark Tongues in Aspic Part II” or something like that), but appreciated that the audience in the venue was quiet and engaged, and I didn’t need earplugs.

      Sure, I’m no expert in music terminology, so as Chapman discussed the qualities of the instrument I figured whatever he was saying was impressive. What matters is that the instrument makes a fine sound and can probably be played by anybody. It’s not a ukulele, but it’s not trying to play the Prokofiev 3rd Piano Concerto, either. I’m surprised more guitarists don’t try this instrument.

      I wonder what it would be like to pair a Chapman Stick with a Theremin?

       

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    • Ask.fm, Bullying and Terrorism

      Posted at 2:05 am by kayewer, on July 13, 2014

      Matthew Homyk was murdered by bullies at the age of 14. The teen from Brunswick, Ohio (a suburb of Cleveland) was terrorized on an anonymous post-heavy site frequented by the over-13 crowd,  called Ask.fm. After seeing enough nameless posts of negativity, the young man ended his life.

      Though this website’s FAQ page specifies that users can control what is seen and what they see (by changing their profiles and preferences), and encourages parents and users to speak up when bullying occurs, we all know it is not possible to monitor everything that gets posted. Besides, with this type of posting allowed, with no posters’ identities to be traced and no repercussions, I can’t imagine the site being used for anything but negativity, rumors and lies. The point is, users can say anything and remain anonymous, so unless you are certain that only your friends will post positive things, blocking anonymous posts is, essentially, blocking all contact with your peers. The bullies know this, and they exploit it.

      Also, answers by the staff at Ask.fm saying “we will do what we can” to the question “How do you know if a user is over 13 years old?” does not offer hope that anything can be done to prevent younger school-age children from making the site a destructive dung heap of psychologically crippling hate. All they have to do is subtract 13 from the current year and lie.

      It makes me sick to read about victims and their families and, unfortunately, the media tends to focus on them exclusively. What I would like to see is one gutsy media resource who will strap on a pair and call out the bullies for their side of the story. I would like to hear from Matthew’s tormentors, and I have a ton of questions I would like them to answer.

      As we look at what bullying does to our society, it seems as if being a bully is a direct path to terrorism, subversive and even criminal behavior, yet we don’t seem to work on obliterating it at its source: the impressionable young who jockey for their places in the pecking order of life. Some of them win by honest, fair play: the rest by intimidation and death. Look at any terror leader, standing at a lectern warbling about war and destruction, and behind it all you see the playground bully lording over the schoolyard while the families of the oppressed children stand by and sigh, “kids will be cruel.”

      Wake up! We are the ones who can stop kids being cruel. It’s time to look at this scourge for what it is and put an end to it.

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      Posted in Uncategorized | 0 Comments
    • Pastry Mondays

      Posted at 1:39 am by kayewer, on July 6, 2014

      After a holiday weekend, the managing directors often request that somebody (that’s me and my compatriots) get coffee and donuts for the department for the first morning back. They know that everybody will function better when jacked up on sugar and caffeine after spending a weekend mucked up on beer and charbroiled grease.

      We have a Dunkin’ Donuts less than a mile away, and they set us up nicely with dozens of donuts and ten-serving boxes of java whenever the need arises. They don’t close for blizzards, and the owners’ holidays never seem to affect or clash with ours (I used to know a place that actually closed for Chinese New Year and Tet). Bless the poor schlub who invented the box with the disposable bladder inside to fill with hot beverages: the famous “Box O’ Joe” is the most popular portable outside food an office full of grumpy co-workers ever had.

      Of course, I’m the weirdo who drinks tea, and DD doesn’t do Boxes O’ Tea. I never have figured out what it is about coffee I don’t like, but over the years I have tried, unsuccessfully, to develop a taste for it. It’s as much a part of the human population as IPhones(R) (which I don’t have, either). I do remember the first big step I took to try and enjoy coffee. I was at the local bank with my fellow Girl Scout troop, selling cookies in the lobby next to a complimentary coffee dispenser. I poured a cup, added some sugar and creamer, took a sip and made a face: it tasted like cardboard. I added more sugar, more creamer, back and forth, to no avail. It didn’t taste one bit better.

      Fortunately I do like donuts. Every variety. When you get a few dozen to feed a hungry horde of employees, you get to sample anything the folks at DD invent for the donut lover in the office. I have downed candy autumn leaves and Valentine pink hearts on orange or pink icing, sucked up gobs of Boston or whipped cream or fruit jelly from overly injected centers, licked gritty sugars from the perimeter of my now ruined lipstick, sneezed at powdered sugar, played tug-o-war with twists and desegmented crullers, sat like Cleopatra while savoring sour cream perfections and puckered until my lips met the back of my head when confronting a lemon lovely. This is the way of the office donut ritual.

      The thing is, I’ve wanted to bake cupcakes for the office for the past two Sundays, and now that I have the time and ingredients, I won’t do it since we’ll all be bursting at the seams with donuts. I have carrot cake, chocolate, vanilla and blueberry cupcakes waiting for my creative hands to breathe life into them. They’ll have to wait behind the donuts and coffee.

      No wonder the bakeries close on Mondays.

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      Posted in Commentary | 0 Comments
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