Extreme Densification

I was tired. I had been densifying all day. Densifying? Is that a word? Well, maybe I coined the word. It is what happens when an office is being densified. I looked up densification at dictionary.com and it said, “An increase in the density of something.” That was not a big help.

Actually, the word can be applied to a number of different things, but in this case it means to put more people in a smaller amount of space in an office building. It seems that someone in higher management decided that cubicles with high walls were no longer the way to go. When you densify, you put people closer together with low walls in work groups or “pods.”

You probably are not old enough to remember old-style offices where everyone was in the same room and desks were end to end. Your “office” was the top of your desk and the carpet where your chair sat. Phones rang, people chatted, typewriters clacked. I don’t remember if it was efficient. I do remember having to see George pick his nose all day.

Workers, of course, prefer walls and a private space. They don’t give a whit about whether being able to see each other improves communication or efficiency. Somehow, workers suspect that management is more interested in packing people in a small space to improve the bottom line rather than to improve efficiency.

Thing is, they were already remodeling the building floor by floor when they decided to do things a different way. So the remodeled floors had to be redone. Too bad they didn’t think of it sooner. I guess they planned on saving enough money by packing us in like sardines to make up the difference. Perhaps they should call it sardinification instead of densification.

We would not have as much open space after we densified, and we would have to move while the space was being remodeled. We didn’t know where or when, other than soon. All the files had to be cleaned and all extra paper had to go.

Of course, we really needed to clean out the files anyhow. We found paper that went back to the 80’s. Apparently, we had a few hoarders in the past that left for greener pastures and didn’t have an opportunity to clear their offices. New workers came and didn’t know what to throw away and what to keep, so they took the low road and kept it all.

We cleaned, threw out, shredded, recycled and densified until the trash bins regurgitated. I hauled so many loads of unwanted office items to our supply unit that I wore out the cart. I don’t know what we did with our time when we only had to do our job. I had never been so dense in my life.

I still remember when I transferred to my first tiny semi-private office cubicle with four walls (three and a half, actually) years ago. I was able to hang a few pictures and felt very important, like a real person. But no one got a walled office except the big cheeses. Hopefully, they would at least not block the windows this time and we could actually get some natural light.

As far as privacy, my calls were recorded, and my email and Internet usage monitored. My documents were backed up on the mainframe computer, and I was evaluated monthly to be sure I was meeting my goals. There was no such thing as privacy, walls or no walls. Sometimes I wonder what they thought we were doing, secretly cooking meth in our coffeepot?

Densify became the new office buzz word. I couldn’t help but wonder if they would actually complete the project or decide that something else was better and we were dense enough already.

Copyright 2012 Sheila Moss
Edited

Posted in Technology, Work Humor | Tagged , , , , , , , , , , | 2 Comments

Georgia on my Mind

I’m not going to say that it is hot in South Georgia. After all, there were enough other things going on at the newspaper columnists’ conference that you almost didn’t notice the heat.  However, I should have known that “Macon” was too close to “bacon” for comfort.

The first day of the conference was great.  We were welcomed by the mayor, greeted by distinguished guests from the local university, and met the publisher of the local paper. We had interesting panels and people who talked about writing, the newspaper business, and other stuff columnists are interested in. 

Little did we know we were about to be introduced to the real South Georgia – the one that sizzles. We had dinner at a Big House that once belonged to the Allman brothers. If you’ve never heard of the Allman brothers, don’t feel bad. They apparently were a hippy rock band back in the days of sex, drugs, and rock’n’roll. We had dinner on the grounds and a rock band to entertain us.

Did I mention how hot it was?  No. I am trying to be polite and not to mention the heat.
 
The next day was the big conference day. Nancy Grace was there. Thank goodness it was cool inside since she was wearing a leather jacket.  We expected the worse, but she was actually quite interesting, friendly, and a dynamic speaker. She even brought her mom and her kids and posed for pictures with the attendees.

Did we stay in the nice cool hotel for lunch? No. We went to a park for a picnic in the sun. The food was good southern barbecue and slaw dogs, which people had never heard of but ate anyhow. It would have been okay except for that word that I’m trying not to mention.

After the picnic, we went for a tour of the city and saw all the hot spots where musicians used to hang out. Who could predict that the air conditioning would fail on the trolley? Hot is an understatement, so I won’t mention it. No one passed out, after all.

After we got back to the hotel and cooled off, it was time for dinner at a southern mansion. Did I mention that they did not have air conditioning back in the 1800’s when southern mansions were in vogue? The mansion was gorgeous, antiques, crystal chandeliers, oil paintings, and violin music. But the best thing was the paper fans that were passed around to help us keep cool.

I don’t think I’ve ever eaten turnip green dip before. I tried to stay away from the cheese grits, crab cakes, okra and anything else I thought might make me sick. It was sort of like being at a party thrown by Granny Clampett except there was no crawdad dip – at least I don’t think so.

By now we had removed our jackets, wraps, and anything else that could be removed and were still doing a slow melt down. I fanned myself vigorously and ate cups of ice. As I said, there were enough things going on to make the conference interesting and fun in spite of the South Georgia weather. Can you believe the conference was planned for early May so it would be cool?  

I am trying hard not to mention it, but I still get dizzy when I think of the word I’m trying not to mention.

Copyright 2012 Sheila Moss

Please check out a new (to me) Blog Directory called FeedSpot. If you enjoy humor, you are sure to find a new blog or two that you will like. If you have a blog of your own, you may even want to list it there.

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Southern Places to See Before You Die

In response to travel articles about interesting places in the world or in the U.S., I decided to write a more localized version. At first it was difficult to think of iconic places, but then it became difficult because of the many great places that couldn’t make the cut. Here are my picks:

The South has much to be proud of, and you don’t have to put up with Yankees or go all the way to California to find experiences to remember.

Blue Ridge Parkway: Hwy. 1 in California may be spectacular, but we have the Blue Ridge Parkway, a ribbon of highway across the Appalachians. Talk about wonderful vistas, especially in the fall when the leaves turn red and orange, no place on earth is more scenic or more popular.

Florida Keys: For a unique atmosphere with scenic beauty, how about the Florida Keys? The colors of the ancient coral reefs beneath the sea are breathtaking and the city of Key West is a relaxed, sub-tropical spot that is one of a kind.

Graceland: Visit the home of the late Elvis Presley in Memphis. 141 platinum and gold records attest to the fact that he is the King of Rock ‘n’ Roll. Thousands of fans have paid homage to his memory, making Graceland the most visited home in America after the White House.

Grand Ole Opry: An entertainment icon featuring legendary country music singers in live performances also broadcast on the radio. The show attracts thousands of visitors from around the world to Nashville.

Myrtle Beach: While many sing the praises of the beautiful sandy beaches of Miami Beach and Pensacola, southerners have discovered their own seashore paradise and Redneck Riviera at Myrtle Beach, SC.

Dollywood: If amusement parks float your boat, you probably think of Disney World, but don’t forget Dollywood, a family vacation Mecca nestled in the Great Smoky Mountains and loaded with rides and musical entertainment. It is only a short drive to the most visited National Park in the U.S.

Hot Springs: Nothing can beat Yellowstone for geothermal activity, for sure, but the South has Hot Springs, Arkansas, our smallest National Park. You can soak in soothing thermal waters and enjoy the pleasures of a natural spa resort in a historic setting.

Colonial Williamsburg: For a taste of colonial times, this restored historic area in Virginia has become a must-see attraction for history that predates the American Revolution. Nearby Jamestown was the first English settlement in America.

Daytona Speedway: Southerners are shade-tree mechanics at heart and big fans of cars and motor sports. Daytona is the Indianapolis of the South and the most prestigious NASCAR racetrack, confirming auto racing as a southern passion.

Stone Mountain: With giant carving of Confederate military leaders, Stone Mountain, GA, has been called the Mt. Rushmore of the South. From Ft. Sumter, SC, where the first shot of the War Between the States was fired, to Appomattox Courthouse where Gen. Robert E. Lee surrendered, the South has an abundance of battlefields and memorials of the War Between the States.

Atlanta: The bustling hub of today’s South, Atlanta is appropriately located in the heart of the Old South. The birthplace of civil rights leader, Dr. Martin Luther King, it claims CNN News headquarters, the Atlanta Braves, Coco-Cola, the Atlanta Aquarium and some nightmarish traffic.

Kitty Hawk: Where the Wright Bros flew the first airplane, and the world was changed forever. The South is still home to numerous aviation and space localities, including Cape Kennedy, NASA Space Museum in Huntsville, AL, and Pensacola Naval Air Station, home of the Blue Angels.

Kentucky Derby: Southerners love tradition and Louisville is host to the Kentucky Derby at Churchill Downs. Almost as important as the world-class racing is the fashion spectacle of ladies in sundresses and wide-brim hats that make it not only a horse race but a true southern experience.

Rock City: A roadside attraction made famous by “See Rock City” signs on the roofs of barns and red birdhouses, Rock City in Chattanooga is little more than an area of interesting rock formations with a view of the city; however, the success of clever advertising has made it a world-famous attraction.

You are probably making a mental list of your own by now, so grab the camera and the kids, take to the road and see these nearby sites right in our own backyard.

Copyright 2012 Sheila Moss

Posted in Southern Humor, Travel | Tagged , , , , , , , , , , | 4 Comments

The iPad Lesson

Now that you have it, what do you do with it? Today we are going to learn to use an iPad.

Step 1: Turn on the iPad. Where is the button? Just try all of them and sooner or later you will find the right one.

So far so good, now you are ready to actually use it. What do you mean, where is the mouse? An iPad does not have a mouse. It has a touch screen. You use your finger instead of the little arrow. Pretty cool, huh?

Yes, it can do other things, lots of other things. Like what? Well, it can access the Internet for starters. The iPad uses Safari as a browser. Why? Because it is an Apple product. That’s the only reason you need. Touch the blue icon that says Safari. See, it opens up just like Internet Explorer.

It’s too little to read? Tap it twice and it will become larger. Turn the iPad sideways and the screen turns too. Cute.

You can touch any icon to open up an app. App is short for application. No, you are not applying for anything. Apps are program that run on the iPad. Get it?

Don’t get carried away yet. Let me finish explaining some of the features.

The envelope will take you to your email. How does it know? Because your email address and password are in the settings. Settings are complicated. Just take my word for it. They did it at the store when you bought it. You were probably busy deciding what color case you wanted.

How do you write a message? It has a built in keyboard. No, it is not a real keyboard. Just use your thumbs. Don’t worry about errors. It is very smart and will fix your misspelled words. You should like that.

It also has a camera. I know you have a camera already, but now you have two. Okay? Touch the icon. See, the screen shows the picture you are taking. Click the little camera. Watch out! That hole on the back is the lens. Next time, be sure you move your finger first.

You can send texts. That is like email, except different. If you want to make calls, you can call other Apple users with FaceTime. It is a video phone. It shows your face to the person you call and their face to you. Yes, like Skype, except it only works on iPads or iPhones. Why? It was designed that way.

Let’s go on to iTunes. You set up an account with an Apple password and then you can download more apps, like Facebook, Twitter, music and games. Some are free and some cost money. Wait!! Now see what you have done. That was a $9.99 music app you just downloaded. You have to be more careful from now on.

Try a game. Oh, you have heard of that one? It is free. See the slingshot with the little bird in it? Pull it with your finger and try to knock down the pig’s house. I don’t know why they want to knock down the pig’s house. Because they are angry birds! I’m getting that way myself.

Another neat app is called Siri. Hold down the start button. See, she says “What can I help you with?” You tell her what you want to do, like “Siri, what’s the weather forecast.” Yes, you can do it yourself without Siri. No, Siri cannot shoot pigs at birds.

Stop downloading all those games! Stop, STOP, I say!

I give up. Just figure out the rest for yourself. You can’t teach anyone anything these days. Ten minutes on an iPad and they know more than you do.

Copyright 2013 Sheila Moss

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How to Have Nothing to Do

What are you doing this weekend? Probably no one will even read my blog this week because everyone will be out having fun and doing interesting things.

Everyone wants something to do on the weekend. Around here, they go to the lake, go to the mountains, or if that isn’t possible, they go to local events. Personally, if I don’t go out and have experiences, I have nothing to write about.

I remember one weekend in particular when we had plenty of choices but not much incentive.

“So, what are we going to do this weekend?” asked Honey.

“I don’t know; what is there to do?” I yawned.

There was a lot going on in the area on that weekend. For example, the air show at the local airport. When we go to the air show, we always get tickets in advance, buy snacks, and take lawn chairs. Maybe we could make it, but it would be a rush. The Blue Angels were flying. The Blue Angels. They are my favorite flying team.

But it really looked like rain outside.

What did the weather report say? Rain – both today and tomorrow? Who wants to go to an air show when it is raining? “Remember that one year when …” How could I forget? It was rainy and cold. We were lucky that it didn’t pour down, but it did mist and drizzle the entire time. They would not even perform the entire show with a low cloud ceiling. They would modify it to be under the clouds so people could see.

“What do you think? Should we take a chance?” said Honey. He had that I-want-go tone to his voice.

“What else is going on?” I less-than-enthusiastically replied.

Well, there was the steeplechase. That is a horse show where the horses jump over obstacles. Scratch that one. I’m really not into horse races. All the ladies horse up (pardon the expression) in their sundresses and sunhats and people tailgate. I was not up for that, even if I had a sunhat to wear.

Well, what about the Renaissance Festival?

I didn’t want to go to the Renaissance Festival. I’ve been before. And what if it rains? I didn’t want to slosh around in mud all day. Not my idea of fun.

“Let’s ask my grandson which one he would rather do?” He was visiting for the weekend.

“What would you rather do, go to an air show or go to the Renaissance Festival,” I asked. I was sure he would say air show. What kid wouldn’t?

But, he wanted to go to the Renaissance Festival – sword fighting, magic shows, fire eaters. Probably some of his friends at school had been talking about it.

My daughter chimed in. “I can go, but this is the only weekend, so it is now or not at all. Besides, it isn’t raining yet and we can take umbrellas.” Reminded me of London where it rains all the time.

“Do you want to go to the Renaissance Festival?” I asked Honey.

“No, do you?”

So my daughter and grandson went without us. I dug up a couple plastic ponchos, probably left over from London, and away they went.

It was getting pretty late by then, might as well forget about the air show. It would be half over by the time we got there.

As luck would have it, it didn’t rain until late that afternoon.

We procrastinated too long and ended up doing nothing.

How can I write about nothing?

I’m not sure. But I think I just did it.

Copyright 2012-2022 Sheila Moss
Revised

Posted in Entertainment, Humor, Weather | Tagged , , , , , , , , | 3 Comments

Doing Damage Control

My email account has been hacked.

It is all over the news when some famous person’s account is hacked. There could be compromising information in their email. It is probably worth hacking to someone who wants to prove a point.

But I’m not a famous person. Who cares what is in my email? Most of what I have to say is public anyhow. If I was targeted, it was for some unfathomable reason, or else my recipe for chocolate chip cookies.

I found out when friends began emailing me. “Did you send this email?” or “I think your email account was hacked.” If you are among the people I correspond with, you most likely received my junk mail too and wondered if I had turned spammer. It will relieve your mind to know there is no “Kit that changed my life.” There is, however, a hacker that changed my life, at least for one evening.

I’ve had my address ripped off before. Most email programs let you send an email using a different address. And the great thing about that, from a spammer’s perspective, is that the email bounces go back to the person whose address was stolen. The thief doesn’t even have to deal with his Internet Service Provider blocking his email address due to SPAM.

This time it was different. Someone got into my address book and sent junk mail to the addresses of private contacts and business associates. Imagine my embarrassment. I avoid putting very many people in my address book and use web mail because some providers are so frequently the target of email viruses.

It was not a virus. I updated my virus definitions and ran another full scan just to be sure. No, this was done by someone who knew what they were doing. Technical articles tell me there are many ways that web email can be hacked: by guessing your password, by guessing the answer to a security question, by using spyware when you sign into email on an insecure computer.

Sometimes the hacker guesses the answer to a security question that is too easy. My password was probably too easy. You should never use common words or phrases found a dictionary. You should also not use the name of your spouse, child, or your pet whose picture is posted in Facebook. I, a writer, didn’t put enough thought into originality.

I’ve tried to secure my account now changing passwords and such. I have a feeling it is like your home, though. If someone really wants in, they will get in regardless of bolts, locks, or burglar alarms. If necessary, they will kick the door off its hinges – or use software that tries millions of passwords until it finds the right one.

The email to contacts was the tip of the iceberg. A ripple effect occurred when it went to groups that I subscribe to with hundreds of members. It was a nightmare trying to delete public posts and explain private ones.

Maybe I didn’t use to be famous, but I’m becoming more famous all the time.

Copyright 2012 Sheila Moss

Posted in Humor, Technology | Tagged , , , , , , , , | 2 Comments

Chickweed Chick

The weather has finally warmed up and thanks to several days of showers the ground was damp, perfect for weed-pulling. Maybe if I have another cup of coffee, it will start pouring rain and I will have a perfect excuse to procrastinate again. But it didn’t. I was out of excuses.

It has been so cool that I’ve neglected my duty as far as yard work. I hire somebody to mow the lawn as I long ago decided that by the time you consider equipment, gasoline, labor and time, it is worth the price someone else will charge me to do it.

Pulling weeds is another matter. It doesn’t take any intelligence to pull a week, just a lot of time. To me it is not worth paying someone else to do a job so trivial, so I do it myself. All I’m talking about here are the weeds that have come through the mulch around the shrubs and in my flower beds.

Usually, I stay on top of this job before it gets out of hand. This year, however, there were full grown weeds, pollinating and producing little baby weeds right in my front yard.

I searched for my garden gloves and couldn’t find them, so I decided to go for it bare-handed. The weeds were a low-growing type. I’m not certain if they are called chickweed or something else and they didn’t have an ID to check.

The deed turned out not to be as easy as it looked. It was back-breaking work. I would grab a weed and pull, and it would pull back in an organic tug of war. I learned to grip as close to the soil as possible and wrestle furiously until it gave in. This continued for hours, sending them to weed heaven along with their babies. Seems rather sinister, but weeds are sinister plants.

I worked down the row in front of the shrubs and then down the row behind them. I was flipping weeds over the bushes, angry that I had to do such a menial task, but knowing it had to be done or they would become uncontrollable.

Sure, I could have sprayed them with weed killer, but then they would shrivel slowly, produce as many offspring as possible, turn brown, and look horrible for at least a month. No, it was better to pull them and repair my unsightly yard. I could go back later and spray the ones that were too small for me to pull.

Now some people are opposed to killing anything green and some people are opposed to using chemicals. I’m in favor of anything that makes it easier for me to get rid of an ugly menace destroying my landscape. I will worry about being politically correct after the weeds are dead.

Most of the time the weeds would come out of the ground with my encouragement, but a few of them were the stubborn type. Instead of coming out, they broke off leaving the root in the ground to reincarnate itself.

Finally, however, I finished the dastardly deed. My hands were so black and dirty that I would have to scrub them with soap and a scrub brush to get them clean. Why, oh, why did I do this without gloves? I did not pull the poison ivy and briars. I’m not that dedicated. That can wait until I either find my gloves or buy a new pair.

I raked up the weed piles and stuffed them into a green plastic bag. I was sore all over but happy to get most of the job done. With all the work that I did, you would think I could declare victory over chickweed for a while.

But that isn’t the way it works with weeds. The weeds always win… eventually.

Copyright 2012 Sheila Moss

Posted in Humor, Plants/Gardening | Tagged , , , , | Leave a comment

It’s All About Me

I am in a fashion rut, I decided. All I wear is tee shirts. I need some pretty blouses to wear. I used to wear skirts or dresses, but jeans and t-shirts are much more comfortable. I wear them most of the time now. Still, it would be nice to have something a wee bit dressier than a tee.

It is time to go shopping. I try on dozens of blouses, but nothing seems right. They are too small, too large, too bright, too teenage, or too old lady looking. On the other hand, they have a lot of cute t-shirts. Take for example the black Vera Wang.

“No, stop it! I am not looking at tees.” I have a closet full of tees and that is why I am here, remember?

I narrow it down to three blouses that I like that are feminine, do not have necklines down to my bellybutton, are not large floral sofa prints, and have sleeves long enough to cover my pale arms. I use a gift card and a 15% off promotional card. Everything is on sale. By the time I am done, I get clothes practically for free (my favorite word).

DAY 1 – I select the pink floral challis, very nice. I have also splurged for a couple pairs of capris since they were on sale too. I pair up the blouse with the black pants and a strand of pearls. Very chic. I am a fashion statement. But no one even notices that I have on something new. Surely someone will say, “Is that new? Did you go shopping?” Nada. Not a word. I’m miffed.

DAY 2 – I wear my new print blouse in aqua and navy. The description calls it an animal print, but I’ve never seen an aqua animal. I have a lot of turquoise jewelry that I seldom wear, and this gives me the opportunity to wear my aqua bead necklace with the shell focus bead. Paired up with the navy capris, it makes a darling outfit, to me at least, but apparently not to anyone else. Mum is the word. No one says a thing.

DAY 3 – Okay, after declaring how much I hate purple, I finally decided to buy something purple and give it a whirl. It isn’t solid purple, only a purple print, but more purple than I ever wear. And wouldn’t you just know it. I am minding my own business a friend compliments my outfit. “I like that color,” she says. So much for not wearing purple. I’m going to have to bite the bullet and get over my purple bias.

I have mixed feelings about fashion. On the one hand, I can’t stand women who are so vain that all they can think about is clothes, makeup, and jewelry. Like teenagers, they are so narcistic that they think everyone is looking at them and actually cares what they wear. Fashion magazines play on vanity with insignificant criticism of celebrities. “Two clothes-conscious starlets wore the same dress. Which one wore it best?” Gag!

Still, we have to wear something. Most of us want to look presentable in public. I’m now on a roll with buying new clothes. Once I start, I can’t stop. It’s an obsession. I’ve ordered some new tops out of an online catalog now. They looked really nice in the pictures. Hope they look as great in person. I’ve been tracking delivery for five days, anxiously waiting.

Now that I’ve browsed clothing sites and purchased merchandise off the Internet, the cookies on my computer have gone ballistic. They know my taste and keep showing ads for things I like. My PayPal account is spinning like a top. I’m developing a serious shopping compulsion. Can one become a clotheshorse in only a week?

It’s all about me, people. Watch out world, and don’t get between me and the clothes racks if you value your life.

Copyright 2012-2022 Sheila Moss

Posted in Fashion, Humor, Shopping | Tagged , , , , , , , , , | 6 Comments

Bringing Home the Bacon

My eyes blinked. I couldn’t believe what I was seeing on a television commercial. Burger King, home of the Whopper, was advertising a bacon sundae. Did I hear right? Did they say bacon and ice cream? Surely, they were joking.

No, it was for real; the screen was showing a cup of ice cream with bacon sticking out of the top.

I immediately knew that I had to check it out. How could I pass by such an opportunity? Nashville is the test market. If it goes over here, you can soon get a bacon sundae at a Burger King near you.

The next day I reminded Honey, “I want to go to Burger King.”

“What for?” He had already forgotten. I don’t know why he puts up with me sometimes.

I didn’t know where a Burger King was located. It isn’t a place I frequent on a regular basis. “I think I know where it is,” said Honey. He got on the Interstate and headed for the Burger King. Unfortunately, Honey’s memory was insufficient and when we got there, the Burger King was a Wendy’s.

What to do now? Well, get out the old smart phone and Google it, of course. I didn’t see anything nearby. Oh. No, don’t tell me there isn’t one.

“Wait, here’s one,” I exclaimed pointing to the search results. So we headed down the road to a Burger King about 5 miles away. I still think there was one closer, but we couldn’t find it.

“Do you have bacon sundaes?” Honey asked the drive-thru speaker.

“Yes, we do,” said the voice at the other end. Did I hear a bit of disgust in the voice, or was it only my imagination?

The sundae looked exactly like the one on TV, soft-serve ice cream with chocolate syrup, covered in bacon crumbles, with a slice of bacon sticking out of the top as a finishing touch.

Why is it called a sundae anyhow? Stories seem to vary as to where and why the concoction was invented with several places claiming to have served the first one. The most popular story is that soda water was forbidden by law on Sunday, so the ice cream soda was served with the same ingredients, minus the soda water. The name was changed to sundae because it wouldn’t be right to name it after a holy day.

Whatever the reason, the ice cream dish became a popular favorite at soda fountains, usually located in the local drug store. The classic sundae was ice cream topped with chocolate syrup and a cherry on top. Soon the chocolate syrup became other flavors: cherry, strawberry, pineapple, caramel, or whatever.

I’m sure the inventor never imagined that the creation would sink to the point of being topped with bacon. Burger King says that everyone loves bacon, so why not? They incorporated the old idea of using something sweet and something salty to complement each other in taste.

Some have simply called it a gimmick to draw attention to Burger King in the fast food wars where everyone tries to get more and more creative for the publicity.

Eventually, I did get around to eating it, all 510 calories of soft serve, chocolate, and bacon. The bacon did not seem salty, just smoky.

 I can’t say that I liked it, only that I managed to eat the entire thing without getting sick. I think I prefer my salt on peanuts. It may be true that southerners will eat anything fried, but not necessarily bacon with ice cream.

Somehow, I don’t think this is going to become a popular item, not even on the breakfast menu. Some things just don’t go together.

Now that I’ve tried it and saved you the trouble, I don’t think I want another one.

 

Copyright 2012 Sheila Moss

Posted in Food, Humor | Tagged , , , , , , , | 2 Comments

Pondering Purple

I have this thing about the color purple. I don’t know what it is, but for some reason I have the feeling that I cannot wear purple because it does not look good on me. It may be that I don’t look good in any other color either, but I like to think that it is only the color purple.

There used to be an idea that there were seasons of color. Each season had its own group of colors: autumn was gold, brown, rust; spring was pink, light blue and yellow. I was autumn. It is true that I do look better in the autumn shades. But I always thought the whole thing was simply an excuse to have fashion parties and get women to spend money, so I didn’t give it much credence.

Some colors are considered hot, and some are cold. Red and yellow are hot, blue and green cold. When I wear a color, they all feel exactly the same to me, so I don’t know why some are hot and some are cold. It must be that they simply look cold or hot.

Purple is unusual because it is both hot and cold. I thought only a hot fudge sundae could be hot and cold at the same time, or apple pie alamode. According to what I have read, though, it is because true purple is a blend of red and blue. But almost all colors are a mixture of something or another.

Purple is supposed to be the color of royalty. Monarchs wore purple robes. Royal purple is rather a bright, but there are also paler colors of purple, like lavender or lilac. I don’t wear any of them. I suppose I have no hope of being a descendant of a royal ancestor. No point doing my genealogy. With my aversion to purple, it more likely would turn up some ancestor I would rather not claim.

There are many weird associations with colors. Pink is for girls, blue for boys. They say we gender stereotype children by the way we dress them. If you blended pink and blue, you would come with – you guessed it – purple. Purple is not associated with gender; it is worn by both sexes. If we actually want a gender-neutral color, we should dress our children in purple.

Many redheads are afraid to wear purple because they think it clashes with their hair. However, I have a friend whose hair is auburn. She says purple is her favorite color. She wears it all the time. It looks okay on her, so why would it not look good on me?

I was looking at a fashion catalog the other day and saw a pretty blouse in a purple print. As luck would have it, it only came in purple. It was a really pretty blouse though. I feel myself starting to weaken. Maybe it is time to take the purple plunge. If I bought something purple, would I wear it, or would it simply hang in the closet because I don’t like purple? One of these days maybe I will buy something purple.

The Red Hat Society ladies think it is okay to wear purple when you are old, even with a red hat. I can’t really remember, but I have a feeling that purple may be for the winter season of color. Maybe I’m just not ready to admit that I’m old enough to wear purple.

I prefer to think that my mother never dressed me in purple as a child, and now I have the idea that I cannot wear it. It must be because it clashes with my hair or because I have no royal blood. My color season could not possibly have changed from autumn to winter.

I can’t wear purple because I am way too young. Besides, I have this thing about purple. It does not look good on me.

Copyright 2012 Sheila Moss

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