Wednesday, August 28, 2024

Beaver Berries

I used to love raspberries. That ended this morning.

This morning, my world was turned upside down by my “OMG Facts” daily desk calendar.

Yesterday’s fact was amusing and inspired an ironic sense of hope for our world.

Tuesday, August 27 - The Bible is the most shoplifted book.

On the one hand, stealing is wrong. It’s right there in the top ten list in the Bible. But if you didn’t have a Bible, how would you know that? After chuckling awhile about that little factoid, I decided as long as the Bibles were going to be read and the shoplifters take the message to heart, I’m sure they will eventually rectify the petty theft.

This morning’s fact didn’t make me chuckle at all. It made me shiver.

Wednesday, August 28 - Castoreum, aka beaver anal juice, is most commonly found as a flavor enhancer in raspberry products.

You can read that again. I had to.

After I was done throwing out any raspberries and raspberry-flavored products we had in the house, I had a few questions.

For starters, WHAT THE ACTUAL HELL!!??

Also, HOW??? How in the wild, wild west did that unholy marriage even get considered in the first place, let alone put into practice??

“Hey, Bob, glad you’re here. We’re having a heck of a time making this raspberry jam taste like raspberries. We need some kind of flavor enhancer.”

“Have you tried using poop?”

“Of course we did. All kinds. We also tried mold, used motor oil, obviously beef intestines, and that black stuff that collects on the Waffle House kitchen floor under the griddle.”

 “Wow, I can’t believe none of that worked. You know, it just so happens I brought my pet beaver into the lab today. Should we see if he likes it?”

“Sure, let him at it… Oh, hey, wait, BOB! Don’t let him do that to the jam… what the… well now, wait a minute. Hmm…”

Unfortunately, that insane scenario is the most sane scenario I can think of as to how this could have happened.

And let’s back up to the part where it says beaver anal juice, is most commonly found as a flavor enhancer… I would really hope that it was most commonly found inside beavers, but apparently we’re using so much of it in our raspberry flavor enhancement activities that we’re now outpacing the giant tree-gnawing rodents.

Would it be worse or better if the labs were making synthetic beaver anal juice to keep up with demand? I mean, we are big fans of all-natural products these days.

Or did they mean that raspberry flavor enhancement was the main use for it? If that’s the case, then that would imply there are other food and/or drink products being enhanced with rodent butt juice.

I’ve never been more afraid to Google something in my life.

See you soon,

-Smidge

 

Copyright © 2024 Marc Schmatjen

 

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Wednesday, August 21, 2024

Hit SEND Before it’s Too Late - Repost

When we sent Son Number One off to his first year of college last year, we attended a one-day parent orientation. It was an informative day on a number of levels, the most striking of which was just how bad incoming college freshman are at using email.

Apparently, the first year of college doesn’t completely fix the problem, as evidenced by Son Number One’s new sophomore year apartment complex and their insane information spamming program. I’m a co-signer of the lease, so I’m on the mailing list, and between June 1st and today – roughly 82 days – the Greenleaf Republic apartments sent me 64 emails. I don’t even talk to my wife that much.

One email a week would have been 12, and that still would have been major overkill for the amount of actual information they conveyed to us. Why did they send me 39 of the EXACT SAME EMAILS about move-in schedules and action items? Because their student clientele obviously still sucks at email.

Well, I’m here to tell you, parents of younger kids, it might be too late for my kids, but yours might still have hope, if you act quickly. Last year after the orientation day, I was kind enough to devise a plan to help all you younger parents out there who want their kids to someday be able to hold down a real job. Best of luck!


There’s a funny thing about kids these days. They have embraced digital technology like no other generation before them. It is interwoven into their lives and they probably would not be able to function without it.

Except for email.

For whatever reason, email – once the very pinnacle of sophisticated digital communications – is like a rotary phone to them. They don’t know how to use it.

Way back when the boys were little, I set all three of them up with Gmail accounts. Best dad move ever, I thought at the time. I would have been less enthusiastic had I known how little and how poorly they would use them.

If you email them something, you have to text them to tell them that you emailed them. If you do that, you have increased the chances from 0% to 11% that they will see your email. Unfortunately, even if they do see it, the chances are still 0% that they will actually read it.

I foolishly thought that high school would get them in the habit of using email effectively. I mean, after all, they were given school email addresses in order to communicate with their teachers. Once again, I was wrong. Ask any high school teacher how well the kids use email. They will just laugh and laugh.

Once again, I foolishly thought things would change with my eighteen-year-old when it was time to register for college. And once again, I was wrong.

He is going to University of Nevada, Reno in the fall, and yesterday was his orientation day. About two weeks ago we received an email about Orientation Step One. I saw that he and I had both received it, and I even mentioned it to him at the time.

When I inquired about it Monday night – the night before orientation – he said, and I quote, “Huh?”

When I sat down with him at his computer and had him look for the email, he immediately claimed that he had no idea where it was, and probably never got it. As I stared slack-jawed at his 999 unopened emails in his inbox, I suggested that he might try a search for the word “orientation.”

Miraculously, we found the email, which contained a detailed list of lots of things he needed to take care of about a week ago. He had a busy night.

The next day at UNR, one of the presentations for the parents was from the head of the student advisory department. They are in charge of helping the kids get all the classes they need in order to stay on track. She talked with us for twenty minutes, and about nineteen of those minutes consisted of begging us to somehow make our children check their emails.

Hmm…

So, parents of young children, this is your Immature Societal Email Nonfunction Disorder (I-SEND) Public Service Announcement. It’s obviously too late for our college freshmen, but you might still be able to salvage your children.

You need to get your kids in the habit of checking (and actually reading) their emails on a daily basis. It won’t be easy, but it can be done if you focus on the things they really want and need.

For instance, kids need food. Put a lock on the refrigerator and the pantry and email them the combination. Change the combination each day.

Kids love Wi-Fi. Change the code daily and have them send you an email each day to request their chore list. When they have replied with a list of fully completed chores, they can then send a separate email formally requesting the Wi-Fi code. If their email has no subject line, delete it without reading it.

Kids enjoy getting an allowance. Each month they must email you an allowance request. They can find their money after they complete a series of back-and-forth informational emails as you lead them through a scavenger hunt. Make it complicated. If you have more than one child and they use Reply All incorrectly, no allowance that month.

If you have teenagers that drive, the location of their car keys should be available only by email. Every once in a while, send them an email from you, but with poor grammar and spelling errors, starting with, “Dearist beloved Child.” Include an attachment that is a “pdf of the locality of you keys.”

The pdf should read: “You don’t get to drive today because in the real world you just downloaded a virus. Stay home and learn which emails to flag as spam.”

Good luck out there, parents!

See you soon,

-Smidge

 

Copyright © 2024 Marc Schmatjen

 

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Wednesday, August 14, 2024

Universitas Interruptus

This week’s column has been interrupted by college.

I’m currently at the Boise, Idaho International Airport and Ag Equipment Emporium, waiting for my flight back to California. I spent the morning moving Son Number Two’s things into his dorm room at Boise State – home of the Smurf Turf, and now, quite a bit of our money.

I spent a harrowing eleven hours in Number Two’s 1999 Toyota 4Runner yesterday, with its questionable suspension and iffy second gear, mostly praying that Toyota and the good Lord would deliver us all the way to Boise and not just part way. Because any part of the way once you’re between Reno, NV and Boise, ID is the exact center of the middle of nowhere.

By the grace of both Manufacturers, we made it all the way, and happily with 99% of the things we were transporting. We only lost the lid off one of the storage tubs on the roof rack. Mind you, everything was secured down on top with a bungee cargo net, and the cargo net remains perfectly intact. The entire cargo net also remained perfectly in place. All the cargo remained perfectly in place. But somehow, some way, with a mighty gust of wind from a passing eighteen-wheeler on 95-North, a two-foot by three-foot plastic Rubbermaid tub lid escaped the net through one of the five-inch by four inch holes in the webbing.

Everything that was in the tub was still in the tub when we pulled over. I’ve been thinking about it for thirty hours and I still have no idea how or what happened.

Anyway, minor poltergeist, shapeshifting tub lid loss aside, we made it to the dorms. It’s when I saw his dorm that I became so overcome with feelings that I abandoned all hope of being emotionally able to produce today’s regularly scheduled column.

His dorm window is about twenty feet away from one of the entrances to the ExtraMile Arena, where the Boise State Bronco Basketball Team plays their home games. And just on the other side of that, rising majestically above campus, clearly visible from that window and hittable with a well-thrown frisbee is Albertson’s Stadium, home of Bronco Football and the legendary blue turf.

This is so unfair.

What? Did you think I became overwhelmed with sad feelings about our second child leaving the nest?

Hardly! Get out.

I was overcome with jealousy. Jealousy and nostalgia for my own college dorm experience.

But mostly jealousy that my own college dorm wasn’t smack in the middle of two powerhouse sports arenas.

I like this airport. I think I might have to see more of this place and that dorm on game days.

So unfair.

See you soon,

-Smidge

 

Copyright © 2024 Marc Schmatjen

 

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Wednesday, August 7, 2024

You'd Better Self-Check Yourself

We have memberships to both Costco and Sam’s Club. When I say “we,” I mean my wife and mother-in-law share a membership to Costco, and I’m not legally allowed to go there by myself.

But I do all the grocery shopping, so my wife recently agreed to let me into Sam’s Club. I’m honestly not sure if she trusts me more now, or if she just got tired of having to make special trips when we needed toilet paper or paper towels.

Sam’s Club has the only self-checkout system I’ve seen to-date that actually works well. It’s called “Scan & Go” and you scan your own stuff into the cart with your phone as you travel around the store loading up your cart.

It’s very user friendly, and even has a running total on the screen so you know when to cry, because you’re only a third of the way down your list. When you’re done shopping and woefully over budget, you just push your cart to the exit. A clerk scans the checkout code on your phone, then beeps a few things in your cart, and you’re out the door. You never unload your cart until you get to the car.

I’m here today to urge all stores in the United States to adopt this wonderful technology, or stop having “self-checkout” at your stores. Your version of self-checkout doesn’t work. It may be “checkout,” but it’s not “self.”

Let’s start with the bagging area. Why is there always an unexpected item there? What exactly were you expecting? I don’t know what you thought was supposed to happen in the bagging area, but I do know what always does happen – the whole checkout process comes to a halt and the screen informs me that “Assistance is Needed.”

No, assistance is not needed. Not ever. I know how to scan something and then put it in a bag. I’m over the age of two, and I drove myself here. Any time assistance is needed, this just stopped being self-checkout, and turned into team-checkout, where both teammates are annoyed.

Expecting an item in the bagging area hasn’t worked from Day One, Minute One of self-checkout. Figure it out!

And no, you haven’t figured it out with your handy “Skip Bagging” button. First of all, it’s an extra button I have to push after each scan, when I shouldn’t have to be pushing any buttons at all. Secondly, it seems to only allow me to skip bagging about two to three times in a row before “Assistance is Needed.”

Again, team-checkout.

There are a few of you stores out there that have it mostly figured out. You have a hand scanner that works and you have successfully abandoned any concerns about my bagging process. But you guys seem to think you’re Costco.

Costco has a person stationed at the door to check your receipt on the way out. They always have. That’s because after checkout, on your way out of Costco, you could grab a 72” TV, a Persian rug, a refrigerator, or any number of other high-value items between the food court and the door.

The rest of you are not Costco. There’s nothing – or at least, nothing of any substantial value – between the checkout and the door, so stop acting like you’re a security guard at a bank.

If I have already unloaded and reloaded my cart when I checked out – either from one of your regular checkers, or under the watchful eye of the self-checkout assistance-giver – I am not interested in going through another line before leaving so you can glance at my receipt and tell me to have a nice day.

If you want to sit there and tell me to have a nice day, go nuts. I’ll wish you a great day right back. But I’m not standing in another line and getting the receipt back out of my wallet.

You want to check my receipt? Get Scan & Go.

See you soon,

-Smidge

 

Copyright © 2024 Marc Schmatjen

 

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