Today we spent 45 minutes in a Radio Shack on the Upper West Side, trying to upgrade Louise's cell phone. The phone stopped being useful about a year ago, but we kept it alive while barely keeping it breathing. We used duct tape to piece it together about six months ago, after it split in two. For awhile that worked. Most phone calls proceeded without issue.
Eventually people on the other end of the conversation couldn't hear us. Then we couldn't hear them. Often both parties only heard soft rustling. In the last two months, we could only talk on it while simultaneously pressing hard on the top of the phone, keeping it sealed together with the bottom half. Otherwise conversations dropped off. By the end of a 20-minute talk, my hand would be cramping and it'd take another half hour to feel right.
So it was time for a new phone. The young salesman spoke to us like a teacher helping an immigrant learn English. He spoke slowly, laughed occasionally at our perplexed faces and gently encouraged us. "That's a really good choice for a case. No, really good. Good job."
Louise is now the confused owner of an iPhone. As we sit in a restaurant, she's looking at her new toy with a furrowed brow, determined to figure out how to use it to make an actual call. She checked her email. Checked the weather report. Now, how to dial? An outsider looking at this scene would conclude that we're both 95 years old and stopped following technology about the time movies became talkies. Earlier we both held it aloft with wide-eyed wonder, the same look that graced the faces of the first people to start a fire. We need like a 12-hour, hardcore tutorial, preferably run by Steve Jobs himself. Or a fourth-grader, who would have more knowledge on the subject than us. Actually, can someone just email and tell us how to use it as a phone?
That's Louise's cell phone, which I use a couple of times a month, earning it the title "our" phone. But I still don't own a cell phone of my own and there are still no plans to get one. Maybe down the line, if some writing deals work out, it will be a necessity. In the meantime, I remain a land line guy, a dying breed. My parents only got a touch-tone home phone like 10 years ago. When we visit them, at least once during our stay I'll have to fix their TV because they've hit the TV/Cable button and can't get the channels back and are convinced they'll have to call a repairman to the house and, Jesus, think how much that's going to cost! Even these two people have had cell phones for five years.
People get a hold of me at home and I sort of like that when I'm out and about in the world I'm free. If there's an emergency, I'll hear about it soon enough. When I need to call Louise to tell her where I am, I use a pay phone, praying that I don't contract a communicable disease from touching the numbers or the phone itself. You can smell the breath of the last seven people who used the phone. Still prefer it over a cell.
I'm still not on Facebook. I can't see that changing anytime soon, despite the peer pressure. I'm not anti-technology or anti-advancement or a Kaczynski acolyte, even if my facial hair is occasionally similar. I have a personal website and a blog, so it's not like I'm allergic to self-revelation or fearful of the online world. But I still have no desire to be on Facebook, primarily because I don't think I would ever update anything on it and it would just be another thing that I regret not following through on. I already feel bad about not calling old friends or family. I feel bad about not responding to emails from old classmates. On Facebook I'd feel bad for not putting up pictures of a picnic in Central Park. And it's not like I'm avoiding it because I don't want to hear from people who I played battled ball against in third grade. For God's sake, no one's as obsessed with the past as I am and no one remembers ridiculous details or wants to talk about old times as much as I do (so, please, email me).
No Facebook, no MySpace, no Twitter, no social networking of any sort (note, I am on Twitter, or at least signed up for it. Louise started an account for me and I think it would be valuable in the future if I start publishing some things again, but right now it just sits there, vacant).
It's all part of my lifestyle that's set in about 1990. I still prefer my VCR to our DVD player. The sound of a tape rewinding is reassuring. I tape instead of TiVoing. Our music plays on a CD player I bought in the mid 1990s. We have an iPod but in three years have probably listened to it 10 times. When we listen to a shuffle, it's a a real shuffle, with the CDs noisily rearranging themselves inside the player. It's a comforting sound, the sound of the world passing us by.
Louise talks about buying a Kindle someday but I then talk her out of it and we simply purchase a dozen more books. I read numerous newspapers online but still buy three or four each day, paging through them, the ink staining my hands.
I don't fear technology. There's no phobia. I appreciate everything it does for me and the world. It's just that, in many aspects of modern life, the technology I enjoy most was created in the last century. Time to go now. Something exciting just happened. Seems like Louise just figured out how to dial a number. Next step: finding the send button.
Showing posts with label musings. Show all posts
Showing posts with label musings. Show all posts
Tuesday, March 30, 2010
Wednesday, February 24, 2010
Hodgepodge
New York is supposed to get hit by something called a snow hurricane, which sounds less like a weather pattern and more like something a maniacal Nicolas Cage confronts in a movie about the end of the world. Before moving to New York, I checked the weather report several times a day. You have to when you drive. Now, I hear about snowstorms a few hours before they hit, as if I'm living back in Walnut Grove with the Ingalls clan without access to modern meteorology. No matter what happens, the subways will run, though they might be delayed. No worries about shoveling snow or scraping ice. No worries about horrible roads and worse drivers. It's a benefit of living in the big city.
* Then there's the downside to life in New York. Since our return from Cape Town, we wake up every weekday at 8 a.m. to the sound of a gigantic jackhammer pummeling rock in a parking lot right next to our building. The project apparently began when we were in South Africa. And will continue for...well, no one really knows. Could be a month, maybe two. A year? No one knows. A giant wooden barrier stands in front of the construction site, making it impossible to peer inside. The hammering begins at 8 and ends at 4, with only a lunch hour in between providing silence. People who work from home have likely seen their productivity drop 75 percent and homicidal fantasies rise 10 percent. I escape it at 9:30, but the effects of this madness hits me much earlier. I now wake up at 7 or 7:30, popping up to stare at the alarm clock. How many more minutes until the drilling starts? Do I have a half hour of sleep left or 5 minutes? Adding to the mystery, no one knows what will be put in the spot, which was a parking lot. Someone said a business. Another person said a 24-hour parking lot, accompanied by those lifts that raise the cars. Should be nice and quiet. Small towns usually don't have these problems.
* This story by Chris Jones on Roger Ebert in Esquire has received a lot of praise the last few weeks, all of it justified. As a sidebar, Ebert's journal is also a must-read. He hasn't spoken in four years, but his writing is as prodigious and enjoyable as ever. And here's an interview with Jones, where he discusses the process of researching and writing the story. Interesting to everyone, but writers will find it especially insightful.
* Do "youngsters" still listen to announcers when they tell them to pay attention to something that just happened in a game? It seems to happen in basketball more than other sports; apparently, young offensive linemen at home don't need to watch Flozell Adams' technique and instead should concentrate on becoming obese or investing in HGH. Brent Musburger does it all the time, especially when he's teamed on ESPN with Bobby Knight. Growing up, I liked receiving the tips from the broadcasting crew. "Now for you youngsters out there watching from home, remember to never dribble into the corner or you'll get trapped." They're usually simple things, but good tips. Block out. Don't back away from the line when releasing a free throw. To make it more realistic, Knight should scream the instructions to youngsters, perhaps while kicking Musburger in the shins.
* Children of the '80s and others raised on The Breakfast Club, Ferris Bueller's Day Off, Sixteen Candles and many more of his movies will enjoy this Vanity Fair story on the late John Hughes. It talks about why he basically dropped out of Hollywood in the 1990s , never to return. He didn't pull a Howard Hughes. Instead he devoted himself to his family and personal writing - stories, journals and scripts that were never meant to be turned into movies.
The most remarkable thing about those fastbreaks is how many came after the Celtics scored, something that you almost never see today.
That's a highlight of Magic's career - he won MVP of the series, his third Finals MVP.
Here's one of the lowlights. Or at least one of the more awkward moments. The Lakers retired his number in February 1992, three months after he left the game. It was a moving ceremony that concluded with Magic's speech. At 1:30, he mentions former teammate Norm Nixon and says, "Norm taught me all my bad habits." The crowd reacts with nervous murmurs. Guys like Kareem and Jerry West laugh knowingly. Considering Magic retired, based in part on his, um, bad habit of having unprotected sex with thousands of women, it's a strange time to thank the guy who helped show him how life as an NBA superstar works ("Now Magic, when a groupie approaches you...). The rest of the speech is pretty cool. Bird's there. McHale. Chick Hearn. Jack Nicholson. It would have been an emotional day regardless, but at this time, many people thought Magic would be dead within a few years. Today he's stronger than ever, even if he is carrying a few too many pounds.
Friday, January 1, 2010
Happy National Radon Action Month
January 1. A new beginning. A time to remember the past year, and a day to gaze forward. What will the economy look like a year from now? Who will be the NBA champions? How long will it take to get through airport security, three hours or four? So much to look forward to this year.
For instance, on January 24, don't forget that it's Thank Your Mentor Day. If you are a mentor, remember that February is Plant the Seeds of Greatness month, so help a youngster with potential prepare for great things in life, unless that person forgot to buy you a gift on January 24.
A site called epromos.com lists every conceivable Day, Week and Month of recognition. In fact, the only thing missing from this incredibly detailed list is a National Day of Conception. Although, if you're into euphemisms, I guess Plant the Seeds of Greatness month could be an adequate replacement.
I'd assume some of these are a joke, in the way a Hall of Fame voter in baseball might sometimes vote for a .200 lifetime hitter who just happened to be the voter's brother-in-law. But epromos.com offers comprehensive promotional ideas on any recognized day out there, though many of their ideas are presented with the company's tongue placed firmly in its cheek. Looking for some way to promote Return The Borrowed Books Week, which runs from March 1-7?
"Encourage the return of books borrowed and increase book lending with promotional bookmarks and booklights."
Many of the days and months on the list are as familiar as Christmas and Thanksgiving. Earth Day. April Fools Day. Mother's Day. Numerous months have entered the national conversation and serve a vital role in health care. An organized event like National Breast Cancer Awareness Month (October) has helped raise millions of dollars in the fight against the disease. Devoting an entire month to an illness can shed a spotlight on an issue that's too often in the shadows, such as Mental Illness Awareness Month in July. These are worthwhile endeavors.
But I'm not sure what National Umbrella Month is supposed to accomplish, which takes up all of March (why does the umbrella - no matter how handy and vital on a beach or in rainy weather - deserve an entire month, while teachers just get a week? May 2-8, by the way). Even epromos realizes the absurdity, noting the month is "a time to celebrate one of the most useful and least thought of inventions, clearly." Least-thought of, yes. And certainly useful. But a whole month? While toilet paper doesn't even earn a day of recognition? Is the under-the-radar umbrella lobby that powerful?
If the first six months of 2010 don't go the way you planned, even after that drunken and embarrassing resolution at 12:01 this morning, you'll be happy to know that June is a good time to get things turned around with Rebuild Your Life Month.
"Inform your fellow employees about Rebuild Your Life Month with items like custom fortune cookies. These tasty treats each carry a fortune or piece of advice that can be used in any attempt to rebuild your life!" The exclamation point really brings the point home.
This doesn't mention what to do if the fortune inside the tough-to-chew cookie turns out to be cryptic or frightening, a potential problem for someone hoping to use the fortune as a springboard to rebuilding their life.
August 25-31 brings on Be Kind to Humankind Week, a seven-day event that seems like good advice the other 358 days of the year. October is Auto Battery Safety Month, dedicated to teaching people how to properly jump-start a car. It's a handy skill for everyone, even though failing to learn it usually just brings about a bit of embarrassment when a mechanic or Good Samaritan says, "You don't know how to jump a car?" Unfortunately, according to epromos.com, "approximately 6,000 motorists" are hurt each year as a result of working with car batteries. Not sure where the 6,000 comes from, other than from someone's imagination. They probably picked it because it sounds plausible. Saying 15,000 people are injured each year might raise eyebrows. And declaring that car batteries hurt 2,000 people a year might not rate an entire month.
And I understand, people are surely hurt while working with a car battery. They should be careful. But how does it earn an entire month, when there are millions of things that can kill or maim a person that will never earn any recognition? How many people die each year falling off a ladder? Yet there's no day or week or month to raise awareness for that issue. What nefarious cabal decides these things?
A day after the Great American Smokeout - and a day before National Family Volunteer Day - comes World Hello Day on November 22. "By greeting ten people on World Hello Day with a simple salutation, you are sending a message to world leaders to communicate to solve conflicts rather than just use force. The day began in 1973 as a response to the conflict between Egypt and Israel, but it is just as applicable today as we still have troops stationed in Iraq and Afghanistan." And World Hello Day has had such a positive impact on peace throughout the Middle East since 1973, why wouldn't we still be using it today?
Full-time teachers get their recognition in May, but their replacements on sick days enter the spotlight September 14-20 during Substitute Teacher Awareness Week, a week marred by giant spitballs, rude students, videos instead of lectures and a general sense of complete chaos.
Continuing with the education theme, September is also College Savings Month. For parents who drown their sorrows with a bottle or a joint when they see the price of their child's tuition, they'll be happy to know the month is also National Alcohol and Drug Addiction Recovery Month.
Circle June 21-27 on the home calendar. That's Carpenter Ant Awareness Week. A week? For the carpenter ant? They're a bit creepy. They're annoying. They do some damage. But wouldn't a Carpenter Ant Awareness Hour probably suffice?
Many people today complain that in youth sports, everyone gets a medal or a trophy or a ribbon. Everyone's a winner, even the losers. Some of these causes seem like the grown-up equivalent. Every disease, bug, occupation or vice gets its day. Or sometimes even a month. National Family Month, to celebrate...the family. So broad, and vague. Child Nutrition Employee Appreciation Week. My grandma worked as a school cook for decades and was surely unappreciated at times during her long career. But I'm not sure grandma would have thought she needed an entire week devoted to appreciating her occupation. Besides, she always got to celebrate National Grandparents Day on September 7.
Maybe I'm just being too negative. That happens early in the winter. January's snow simply leads to February's cold. Just wish I could break the cycle of negativity and cynicism. Thankfully, salvation will arrive in March. Or, as it's known around our house, National Optimism Month.
For instance, on January 24, don't forget that it's Thank Your Mentor Day. If you are a mentor, remember that February is Plant the Seeds of Greatness month, so help a youngster with potential prepare for great things in life, unless that person forgot to buy you a gift on January 24.
A site called epromos.com lists every conceivable Day, Week and Month of recognition. In fact, the only thing missing from this incredibly detailed list is a National Day of Conception. Although, if you're into euphemisms, I guess Plant the Seeds of Greatness month could be an adequate replacement.
I'd assume some of these are a joke, in the way a Hall of Fame voter in baseball might sometimes vote for a .200 lifetime hitter who just happened to be the voter's brother-in-law. But epromos.com offers comprehensive promotional ideas on any recognized day out there, though many of their ideas are presented with the company's tongue placed firmly in its cheek. Looking for some way to promote Return The Borrowed Books Week, which runs from March 1-7?
"Encourage the return of books borrowed and increase book lending with promotional bookmarks and booklights."
Many of the days and months on the list are as familiar as Christmas and Thanksgiving. Earth Day. April Fools Day. Mother's Day. Numerous months have entered the national conversation and serve a vital role in health care. An organized event like National Breast Cancer Awareness Month (October) has helped raise millions of dollars in the fight against the disease. Devoting an entire month to an illness can shed a spotlight on an issue that's too often in the shadows, such as Mental Illness Awareness Month in July. These are worthwhile endeavors.
But I'm not sure what National Umbrella Month is supposed to accomplish, which takes up all of March (why does the umbrella - no matter how handy and vital on a beach or in rainy weather - deserve an entire month, while teachers just get a week? May 2-8, by the way). Even epromos realizes the absurdity, noting the month is "a time to celebrate one of the most useful and least thought of inventions, clearly." Least-thought of, yes. And certainly useful. But a whole month? While toilet paper doesn't even earn a day of recognition? Is the under-the-radar umbrella lobby that powerful?
If the first six months of 2010 don't go the way you planned, even after that drunken and embarrassing resolution at 12:01 this morning, you'll be happy to know that June is a good time to get things turned around with Rebuild Your Life Month.
"Inform your fellow employees about Rebuild Your Life Month with items like custom fortune cookies. These tasty treats each carry a fortune or piece of advice that can be used in any attempt to rebuild your life!" The exclamation point really brings the point home.
This doesn't mention what to do if the fortune inside the tough-to-chew cookie turns out to be cryptic or frightening, a potential problem for someone hoping to use the fortune as a springboard to rebuilding their life.
August 25-31 brings on Be Kind to Humankind Week, a seven-day event that seems like good advice the other 358 days of the year. October is Auto Battery Safety Month, dedicated to teaching people how to properly jump-start a car. It's a handy skill for everyone, even though failing to learn it usually just brings about a bit of embarrassment when a mechanic or Good Samaritan says, "You don't know how to jump a car?" Unfortunately, according to epromos.com, "approximately 6,000 motorists" are hurt each year as a result of working with car batteries. Not sure where the 6,000 comes from, other than from someone's imagination. They probably picked it because it sounds plausible. Saying 15,000 people are injured each year might raise eyebrows. And declaring that car batteries hurt 2,000 people a year might not rate an entire month.
And I understand, people are surely hurt while working with a car battery. They should be careful. But how does it earn an entire month, when there are millions of things that can kill or maim a person that will never earn any recognition? How many people die each year falling off a ladder? Yet there's no day or week or month to raise awareness for that issue. What nefarious cabal decides these things?
A day after the Great American Smokeout - and a day before National Family Volunteer Day - comes World Hello Day on November 22. "By greeting ten people on World Hello Day with a simple salutation, you are sending a message to world leaders to communicate to solve conflicts rather than just use force. The day began in 1973 as a response to the conflict between Egypt and Israel, but it is just as applicable today as we still have troops stationed in Iraq and Afghanistan." And World Hello Day has had such a positive impact on peace throughout the Middle East since 1973, why wouldn't we still be using it today?
Full-time teachers get their recognition in May, but their replacements on sick days enter the spotlight September 14-20 during Substitute Teacher Awareness Week, a week marred by giant spitballs, rude students, videos instead of lectures and a general sense of complete chaos.
Continuing with the education theme, September is also College Savings Month. For parents who drown their sorrows with a bottle or a joint when they see the price of their child's tuition, they'll be happy to know the month is also National Alcohol and Drug Addiction Recovery Month.
Circle June 21-27 on the home calendar. That's Carpenter Ant Awareness Week. A week? For the carpenter ant? They're a bit creepy. They're annoying. They do some damage. But wouldn't a Carpenter Ant Awareness Hour probably suffice?
Many people today complain that in youth sports, everyone gets a medal or a trophy or a ribbon. Everyone's a winner, even the losers. Some of these causes seem like the grown-up equivalent. Every disease, bug, occupation or vice gets its day. Or sometimes even a month. National Family Month, to celebrate...the family. So broad, and vague. Child Nutrition Employee Appreciation Week. My grandma worked as a school cook for decades and was surely unappreciated at times during her long career. But I'm not sure grandma would have thought she needed an entire week devoted to appreciating her occupation. Besides, she always got to celebrate National Grandparents Day on September 7.
Maybe I'm just being too negative. That happens early in the winter. January's snow simply leads to February's cold. Just wish I could break the cycle of negativity and cynicism. Thankfully, salvation will arrive in March. Or, as it's known around our house, National Optimism Month.
Thursday, September 10, 2009
Doing our part for the magazine industry
Another day, another three magazines jammed into our mailbox, fighting desperately for space.
Today Sports Illustrated, New York, and the New Yorker all arrived, a day after Vanity Fair and Ladies' Home Journal made their monthly appearances. I'll occasionally read stories from writers who advise cutting back on subscriptions as an easy way to save money when savings accounts are being ravaged. Sounds like decent wisdom. Instead, we take it as a challenge. Cut back? No. More magazines, more hints on great travel deals, more fun and quirky recipes for cheeseburgers done differently, more features on the economic meltdown, more profiles of anorexic Hollywood starlets, more NBA previews, more movie reviews, more ways to find a spouse, more ways to please your spouse, more ways to anger your spouse, more ways to make up with your spouse.
And along with the actual bound publications, invoices and bills invade us daily, reminding us that it's URGENT that we renew now, or we'll lose our subscription.
Sometimes the statements gently scold us. They act hurt, disappointed, while also offering vague threats.
"Dear valued reader and subscriber. When we renewed your subscription, you indicated that you would like to pay at a later date. Four years later, we hope you've enjoyed reading about the best airline deals on trips to Argentina, but your bill is past due. Please respond."
The all-caps threats and stern language often intimidate me into sending off another $12 check, good for another year or two. It's like being in debt to a loan shark who has access to too much paper and postage.
Finally one day I gathered every magazine I could find in our apartment. Louise had diligently filed many of them. Others hid under the couch. Many more sat on an out-of-the-way table in their plastic wrapping, like a present left unopened on Christmas morning. I checked when the subscriptions actually ran out. No longer would the magazines hold us hostage with their junk mail disguised as threats to make this our LAST ISSUE.
At last count, here are the magazines we welcome each week, each month or every two months into the household: Sports Illustrated, Vanity Fair, Rolling Stone, New York, New Yorker, Atlantic, Esquire, Writer's Digest, Poets and Writers, The Writer, Nursing magazine, Good Housekeeping, Family Circle, Self, Mpls/St. Paul, Midwest Living, Parents, Ladies Home Journal, AllYou, Budget Travel, Conde Nast Traveler, Glamour, Lucky, Columbia Journalism Review, Everyday with Rachael Ray, Oprah's magazine.
Louise actually dropped a couple that were previously on the list, keeping us, for now, under triple digits. But we don't see it as a waste of money, since subscriptions are usually unbelievably inexpensive. We're getting Vanity Fair for 13 dollars. The New Yorker is about 50 for the year, but paying less than a dollar a week for some of the best writing in the country? A good deal.
We started drowning in subscriptions because we bought so many at the newsstand that it actually was a waste of money. Why spend five dollars on a single magazine when you can get 24 for 10 bucks? Sign me up!
If only they'd stop the demands and pleas for renewal. It's embarrassing for all sides. We're receiving Family Circle until 2012. I'm not sure where we'll be in three years. But I know Family Circle will forever be with us, as unshakable as a shadow. Yet last week a letter arrived, telling us we needed to take action now to ensure we didn't lose this valued publishing prize. I'd sign the damn thing and send another check but three weeks after that they'd send another letter, this one hinting that our 2018 subscription could be at stake, unless we take URGENT action.
The magazines will keep coming. We'll keep reading. They don't know how to take rejection, and we yearn for their acceptance and appreciation for subscribing once more. It might be a codependence-type thing, I'm not exactly sure.
Now where's that low, low offer from Psychology Today?
Today Sports Illustrated, New York, and the New Yorker all arrived, a day after Vanity Fair and Ladies' Home Journal made their monthly appearances. I'll occasionally read stories from writers who advise cutting back on subscriptions as an easy way to save money when savings accounts are being ravaged. Sounds like decent wisdom. Instead, we take it as a challenge. Cut back? No. More magazines, more hints on great travel deals, more fun and quirky recipes for cheeseburgers done differently, more features on the economic meltdown, more profiles of anorexic Hollywood starlets, more NBA previews, more movie reviews, more ways to find a spouse, more ways to please your spouse, more ways to anger your spouse, more ways to make up with your spouse.
And along with the actual bound publications, invoices and bills invade us daily, reminding us that it's URGENT that we renew now, or we'll lose our subscription.
Sometimes the statements gently scold us. They act hurt, disappointed, while also offering vague threats.
"Dear valued reader and subscriber. When we renewed your subscription, you indicated that you would like to pay at a later date. Four years later, we hope you've enjoyed reading about the best airline deals on trips to Argentina, but your bill is past due. Please respond."
The all-caps threats and stern language often intimidate me into sending off another $12 check, good for another year or two. It's like being in debt to a loan shark who has access to too much paper and postage.
Finally one day I gathered every magazine I could find in our apartment. Louise had diligently filed many of them. Others hid under the couch. Many more sat on an out-of-the-way table in their plastic wrapping, like a present left unopened on Christmas morning. I checked when the subscriptions actually ran out. No longer would the magazines hold us hostage with their junk mail disguised as threats to make this our LAST ISSUE.
At last count, here are the magazines we welcome each week, each month or every two months into the household: Sports Illustrated, Vanity Fair, Rolling Stone, New York, New Yorker, Atlantic, Esquire, Writer's Digest, Poets and Writers, The Writer, Nursing magazine, Good Housekeeping, Family Circle, Self, Mpls/St. Paul, Midwest Living, Parents, Ladies Home Journal, AllYou, Budget Travel, Conde Nast Traveler, Glamour, Lucky, Columbia Journalism Review, Everyday with Rachael Ray, Oprah's magazine.
Louise actually dropped a couple that were previously on the list, keeping us, for now, under triple digits. But we don't see it as a waste of money, since subscriptions are usually unbelievably inexpensive. We're getting Vanity Fair for 13 dollars. The New Yorker is about 50 for the year, but paying less than a dollar a week for some of the best writing in the country? A good deal.
We started drowning in subscriptions because we bought so many at the newsstand that it actually was a waste of money. Why spend five dollars on a single magazine when you can get 24 for 10 bucks? Sign me up!
If only they'd stop the demands and pleas for renewal. It's embarrassing for all sides. We're receiving Family Circle until 2012. I'm not sure where we'll be in three years. But I know Family Circle will forever be with us, as unshakable as a shadow. Yet last week a letter arrived, telling us we needed to take action now to ensure we didn't lose this valued publishing prize. I'd sign the damn thing and send another check but three weeks after that they'd send another letter, this one hinting that our 2018 subscription could be at stake, unless we take URGENT action.
The magazines will keep coming. We'll keep reading. They don't know how to take rejection, and we yearn for their acceptance and appreciation for subscribing once more. It might be a codependence-type thing, I'm not exactly sure.
Now where's that low, low offer from Psychology Today?
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