Friday, February 23, 2007
Wrong Wrong Wrong
I do want to put up a bit of a post to welcome the weekend but the one I have in mind is a bit too detailed for me to manage right now. Right now I am stuck thinking about the big blue-ribbon panel meeting I went to yesterday with serious heavy-hitting attorneys, appeals judges, statewide political strategists, and many senior staffers. It was an interesting and important meeting. They had a consultant call in at one point to discuss survey strategy and methodology. His name was Richard Hertz. It was all I could do not to ask him, “Dick Hertz?” and if he said yes, tell him to sit on an icepack and walk it off. HA! I am the funny making. But really I’m not, because I kept it to myself. But here’s a few others that also seemed wrong lately:
* I got Z a bunch of stickers from a local toy store. They’re cool stickers, all glittery with fun images like firetrucks and space alien heads and fire. Plus they’re mylar so they can usually be peeled off without leaving an adhesive mess on my tabletops and eyeballs. However, the company that distributes them has a brand logo of their name that really looks, on the shelves, like it says NAMBLA. Anyway, that’s how it looks to me. I’m just saying, if you’re selling products for little kids, maybe a clearer distinction from the old Man-Boy Love faction would be appropriate.
* We saw a delivery truck a few days ago with a big sign on the side that suggested it was being used to deliver berries and other agricultural products. The company name is painted at first in a green font for an agricultural motif, and then a blue font to evoke ripe delicious berries. But do the owners of this south american company realize that not everybody in the contiguous 48 is ready to start their day with an extreme, highly-charged and adreleline-fueled fistful of aggroberries?
* When we realized that Zach was getting to be able to vault out of his crib when the spirit (that is, the Spirit of Evil) overtook him, we visited Ikea for-to take a gander at their toddler beds. We didn’t really find what we were looking for, but I did make two mental footnotes: first, every time I see the International Atomic Energy Agency’s acronym anywhere, I think they’re selling scandanavian design in a box. “The IAEA has demanded that Iran permit the resumption of oversight at their centrifuges, which are available with variety of finishes and handles to help you turn an everyday room into a special space for your family .” (It does not help that they always seem to show up at nuclear hotspots with those damn meatballs in gravy.) Also - well first, I should apologize, because there is no sport whatsoever in making fun of the names of products at IKEA. But that is not going to stop me from asserting firmly here and now that I am never going to make my boy grow up in any environment that will turn him into a dicktard.
I guess that’s all for now.
