T M I

Surely I am not the only person in America who has noticed that we seem to have gone beyond the boundaries of appropriate info both in our personal lives and in advertising. We all know disagreeable things happen, and need to be dealt with, but do we really want to see them depicted on our television screens?
The ad men seem to be trying to desensitize us by bombarding us with “cutesie” cartoons of cuddly bears with bits of toilet paper stuck to their furry little posteriors. Furthermore, they are often found strolling off to a stand of trees, with a roll of tissue spinning on their finger lending credence to that old adage we have all heard about bears and the woods.
The musically rocking depiction of babies vying for high scores while filling disposable diapers is just wrong. Whoop…there it is! Honestly, we all know what IT is and most of us know how to contain it when IT happens. If we don’t I guess it is time to drag the bears out of the closet and beat the crap out of them for possession of their Charmin.
Some of the most objectionable campaigns deal with myriad problems only the female gender encounter, and there again….must we?! My husband is convinced that all daytime advertising centers on some form of “icky” situation.
I will refrain from even commenting on the worst problem the aging, balding, belly fat developing fellows must endure. But your advertising gurus find nothing too delicate to talk about and exploit. Suffice it to say that “V” no longer stands for Victory. Or….maybe it does….by now I’m really confused.
But, advertising execs aren’t entirely to blame for our increasingly rabid need to talk about anything and everything. We as a society share entirely too much. A population that is daily terrified of losing their identity seems to be throwing it away with both hands. We say too much and then the spin doctors depersonalize it to the point we don’t care anymore. We are numb, deaf and jaded. Nothing is too much or too personal for us to know and share.
The advent of social networking gives us the venue of the biggest convention hall ever constructed. There we are, all talking at once and sharing, and sharing, and sharing. If you are a praying person, what a huge church you have at your disposal. The plea for prayer is met with literally hundreds of people who answer the call. I personally think this is a pretty terrific way to use our networking skills.
We share stories, pictures and recipes in a heartbeat and have at our disposal the combined wisdom of everyone in our “friends” list and their friends as well.
Given the nature of what I do, I MUST be willing to share. A writer cannot view their own life as a “sacred cow” – never to be examined, shared or talked about. To be an effective communicator in the written word, you must first write about what you know best, yourself.
Unfortunately, that same social networking site that affords us with instant contact with our friends can also be a slippery slope into the snake pit if we aren't careful. Sometimes, we forget that not only our friends seek us out, but often our enemies as well. Employers have been known to "creep" around our MySpace, Facebook and Blog sites looking for things to use against us. I've heard stories about people getting terminated for merely "venting" about their job frustrations. Some businesses, school systems, etc. have forbidden their employees from having these types of avenues of self-expression as a means of protecting their own reputations. The old expression "big brother is watching you" is no longer just a could be scenario in an extremely disturbing book it is a harsh reality. And let's face it people in an economy that has rapidly increasing inflation, ballooning unemployment and a general sense of panic in the populace - if we are lucky enough to have a job we should take care to not jeopardize it by thought, word or deed. Pour your difficulties with your co-workers, your job or your boss into the one listening ear you can truly trust and take care to not spread it around the internet.
By the same token, if you want your privacy and like to have your own life outside of work, you might not want to open up a window into your private world. I am a firm believer that what goes on behind closed doors is your own business if it hurts no one else. However, not everyone is as evolved and will use those innocent little things you do and say to hurt you. And I have to admit that if I had someone working for me that was talking about some borderline controversial subjects I might start re-evaluating their value to me as a team player. After all, it would technically be my money that was funding their off the wall bizarre actions, therefore I might feel culpable for the consequences that could ultimately play out.
On occasion, in a pure old fashioned “hissy fit” I will vent and take no prisoners. I am unapologetic for this. After all, sometimes things just have to be “said” in order for the sting to lessen and cool. Plus, the coke bottles that I used to fling at brick walls aren’t as readily available as they once were and are danged messy to clean up.
And, I also understand the need of other people to pour their needs and issues into a willing listening ear. I hope I provide that for them every chance I get.
But, holy cow people! Sometimes we just go too far. When we start to become the guilty party in desensitizing people we need to step back and do a reality check. Everyone has problems, that is a given in life. But if we cannot pad our problems in a layer of humor and just side splitting laughter from time to time we wear people out.
By the same token, someone who is constantly over the moon euphoric gets a bit nauseating and tiresome to people who are really struggling with seemingly insurmountable problems.
It has amazed me from time to time to watch people assault the realm of cyber space with blow by blow descriptions of their daily doings. I like to call these “The Perils of Pauline” people. Those who are intermittently tied to the railroad track by Snidely Whiplash and then rescued by Dudley Doright many times in an episode.
Had Little Nell had the good sense to stay far away from Snidely she might not have had so many problems in the first place. And one has to wonder if Dudley ever just wanted to not answer the phone. Or, upon answering, simply say, “sorry, Nell, I’m a little busy at the moment polishing my saddle.” Nell might have avoided stirring up the wrath of Dudley’s faithful but seethingly jealous steed, Horse and maintained peace and contentment in Semi-Happy Valley.
And, do any of us want to be the “Bullwinkle” in the crowd, giving our “enemies” enough information to really hurt us? Fortunately, Boris and Natasha weren’t any smarter than poor Bullwinkle but some of us might not be quite as lucky. And let us not forget that even as much as Rocky loved Bullwinkle, he got tired of his big old loose moose lips flapping indiscriminately.
I love witty status updates on Facebook and I love knowing what my “peeps” are up to. Some of the blurbs I like best are ones that make me wonder what in the heck is happening? Why did they say that? Those that make me THINK instead of feel like I’m standing outside their window like a bored peeping Tom hoping for a cheap thrill.
So, I’m going to follow my own advice and try to be more circumspect in what I choose to put out there for public consumption. My grandmother always told me the more people could see the more they wanted to see. She was talking about clothing but it works with information as well. Besides, it might be fun to be a “woman cloaked in mystery” for a while.
…………..and how was your day? I would really like to know.

Embrace Me

Have you ever thought about how much power can be transferred by a mere touch? There is something "electric" in the human touch and if we begin to lose our "touchability" things get pretty whacked out in a great big hurry. I have read story after story of babies growing up in orphanages in other countries basically without the benefit of being held, snuggled, rocked...............touched.

The fundamental needs of food, clean clothes and shelter are met, but the inherent need for human contact is denied them. Sometimes these children don't fare so well even when placed in loving homes - they've missed out on something so important and it can't be replaced. In fact, in some circumstances the deprivation of human touch leaves them cold and detached.

I think most of us are at the peak of touching in our younger years. Oh, we do ALOT of touching in high school (pardon me while I blush).....ahem.....I'm all better now. Those tentative moments when two hands that are attracted to each other accidentally brush against each other, and bring that topping a rise in the road at a high rate of speed feeling to our tummies.

As we become more familiar the touch becomes more defined and more purposeful. We have learned the feeling it brings, we like it and we want more of it! It is about this time that we start to learn who is a "toucher" and who is a "touch me not." Myself, I've always been a "toucher", a "kisser" who welcomes physical contact with my family and friends.....oh heck....I'll admit it....sometimes even people I don't even know very well. I have to be careful to not offend because I am so outwardly affectionate. And since I am at my core a very insecure and sensitive person, rejection paralyzes me.

There is nothing more demoralizing than trying to reach out in genuine affection to someone whose response is akin to avoiding a person with cholera. It hurts. And, it makes the person who has made the overture feel that perhaps there is something about them which is mildly repellant. Have you ever tried to hug someone and had the feeling you were trying to embrace a tree in the petrified forest? Not very satisfying is it?

When we have children, there is nothing that soothes or calms them as much as the physical act of touching them. Picking them up, cradling them and murmuring soothing words while rocking back and forth comforts them and gives them the feeling of safety and security. And oddly enough, they adopt the same technique when dealing with us.....well usually anyway.

Grandkids are really great at this. In fact, you had better be seated when they catapult themselves into their greeting, talking a blue streak while covering you with moist kisses reeking of bubblegum and wrapping their sticky little fingers around the fibers of your heartstrings.

Even animals respond to the simple act of touching and reciprocate in kind. Dogs have "sweet spots" that render pure bliss for them when we scratch - behind the ears, the neck, under the chin, and on their tummies. They repay us by lying on our feet, pinning us to the mattress at night and "kissing" us unashamedly. Cats rumble like well oiled street rods when stroked and then twine in and out of our legs returning their affection. Or....they may be trying to kill us by tripping us....I'm not really clear on this one. Not much of a cat person here.

Life spins on and on and we grow older and become engrossed in our daily routines, our worries, our struggles and yes, our problems. Sometimes we become slightly introverted, some of us even jaded. And, sometimes we forget to touch or to invite touch.

Oh, we pray for people and we honestly care about others but we just don't reach out and give them the benefit of our physical self. Maybe I'm alone in this feeling, but there are times when I honestly feel like my skin is screaming for someone to simply "touch" me.

In these moments, I've learned to do a quick little body check. Have I become "prickly?" By my words or actions am I deterring that which I crave so much? Am I being "touchable?" Am I inviting people in or turning them away by being too rigid? To closely in check. And, how much have I extended my own touch lately?

Have I reached out and took my husband's hand as we were walking? Or do I wait for him to cautiously seek out my own? Did I take the time to steady a little trembling hand in the checkout line or seethe internally while that sweet little person carefully counted out pennies from a worn change purse? Have I ever turned away an embrace from a sweaty, smelly child with filthy little hands because I was wearing my good clothes? Did I reach down and pick up the poor neglected little dog covered in filth and pestilence - or turn away excusing myself because I have too many? Dogs...not pestilence.

Granted, there are times when I have held myself so closely in check that someone's mere touch has caused me to burst into tears. Immediate hot tears that burned through my heart, my mind, my spirit and my soul leaving me weak. I've cried my eyes out and never felt so good. Of course, this could explain why a great segment of my acquaintances think I may be slightly daft.

Times are difficult these days. Not every week yields up something amusing and funny. Not every day affords me a chance to "touch" you with my wit and amusing banter. But every day provides us with a reason to physically touch someone else. For truly, "no man is an island unto himself" - we are all traveling through this world together bound for something far better. And I am assured at the end of the road we will be wrapped in the most loving of arms and held closer than close forever............

Till then, I should warn you. If I see you, I'm grabbing you and hugging the daylights out of you and I will probably kiss you with abandon - (I'll try to make sure I've had a Tic-Tac.) And I may repeatedly reach out and touch you to make sure you understand my intent is to share myself with you. If you are a guy, please tell your wife or girlfriend that I am harmless. If you are female, chances are you understand me already.

And so.....in the words of the telephone company "reach out and touch someone." But don't do it by phone - do it in person. And, if you see me......please...."Embrace me, my sweet embraceable YOU."

...............and how was your day? I would really like to know. lkbeshears@sbcglobal.net

Big I - Little You

The advent of social networking, instant message, chat boxes and virtually instant contact with almost anyone on the planet brings great benefits AND certain challenges. To the species possessing thumbs, the ability to type, and to text has transformed itself into still yet another language full of merely letters strung together.

Text Message Shorthand for all U BFFs, tends to confuse me. The first time I saw BRB - all I could think of was they had changed the term for "runs batted in" and I couldn't work out the new term. Baseball runs batted? Baseball runners on base? Baseball ratings broadcast? Seeing NEway instead of anyway kind of makes me homicidal. And OMG only makes me think of the little girl I carried back and forth to dance classes with my daughter whose favorite phrase was "Oh my goodness, oh my goodness, oh my gooooooodness."

If you are like me, having been blessed to have Mary Dalton as your high school business teacher, you often type faster than you think. I don't know what magic Mrs. D had in her stylish handbag of business tricks, but I would venture to guess that her business students were some of the best prepared in our country.

I still have "mad" typing skills, and can still remember my brief forms even though the days of sitting with your steno pad while your boss drones on are long past. Sadly, bookkeeping still manages to daze and confuse me. Therefore, I just concentrate on trying to make sure there are always more numbers in the black ink than the red. This could explain why I've never been hired by an accounting department.

And while I am numerically and mathmatically challenged, I am a pro at the keyboard. Put me in front of a keyboard and I will happily blow you away, still typing while my aging brain is struggling to keep up. Sadly, I am a slow texter and I don't think trying to remember all that shorthand would speed me up one bit. I usually type full words although I have embraced LOL with great zeal. Those knowing me could tell you that would be a given.

But, more often than not I am guilty of just typing HAHAHAHAHAHAHA - to me that looks more like I might sound. And let's face it....who doesn't laugh out loud? Laughing inside isn't much fun - in fact, I've found it more than marginally painful.

But, I have encountered an evil little creature lurking there in cyber-space. I like to call him the Facebook Typing Gnome. We all know and despise him. You will recognize the work of that minion of the Darkside immediately. He takes our pithy comments the moment we hit "send" or "comment" and twists them into something unrecognizable. They are certainly nothing that WE did on our own. He is evil I tell you, pure unmitigated EVIL.

How many times have we typed "there" indicating a place only to see it appear as "their" indicating possession? Or dedicatedly put an "s" on the end of yours to see it pop up as singular? What does the FTG (calm down....Facebook Typing Gnome) do with all our s's? And then, some well meaning friend decides to call attention to our typo as if we didn't already feel badly enough about something we can't take back.

I have been known to punish myself for the FTG's work by typing my wrong word three times. But it rankles to be held responsible for something I KNOW I didn't do. The Gnome cares not, he is already merrily at work on someone else's Facebook page wrecking havoc with their posts and comments.

His favorite game to play with me is to make me feel unimportant by making my I, in reference to self, just a small and insignificant lower case letter. This happens fairly often, but recently it took place in an situation that was pretty embarrassing for me. Sending in a comment to a publication I am writing for, I was appalled to see "i" as part of my splendid and well phrased offering. I felt pretty danged dumb and I'm sure all the people reading it thought likewise.

However, now I'm starting to wonder..........why DO we capitalize I everywhere when referring to ourselves? My high school English teachers and my longtime best friend, Ms. Judy the English teacher, have cited me all kinds of rules on this subject and I still don't get it. Okay, okay...I patently refuse to get it. Correct me if I am wrong but isn't this the ONLY pronoun capitalized everywhere? What makes "I" so important. Does capitalizing our reference to ourselves make us better people? Does it make us feel better?

Better still, why is "I" so much more important than "you?"

Maybe our world would be a much better place if we placed the same importance on You as we place on I. I'll take this a step further, maybe You should not only be capitalized but also written in all caps with boldfaced fonts. Let's try it, shall we? "In an attempt to make YOU more important to me, i am going to afford YOU a larger place in my life."

Hmmmm....suddenly, i don't feel quite as important, but, how do YOU feel about YOURSELF?

So, the next time you see a little insignificant i emanating from me, remember that i must be feeling small and humbled by all the wonder GOD puts in my path daily. And, i also will be feeling so amazingly blessed to have all of YOU in my life.

Hey, suddenly i do feel pretty good - i might just remain a little i forever. So "snap" Facebook Typing Gnome! In this situation I OWN you! Time to move along, move along, you're not the droid we're looking for.