It is my pleasure to introduce the wit and wisdom of Deborah Kimmett. A fellow author and speaker, Deborah is my guest blogger for today’s post. To learn more about Deborah and read her blog, visit her website.
Enjoy the laughs…
Hi, I am Deborah Kimmett, a humorist who believes life starts getting better after we say Yes. Babies are born. Cars are invented, and new ideas start to come. However, first we protest, then we make jokes.
Last January I cancelled my satellite television.. I had convinced myself I would read novels by authors like James Joyce. It’s been 365 days and I’m still on page one of Ulysses, but I have cut my sleeping medication in half.
No, I have just traded one screen for another. I stare lovingly at my computer screen waiting for pop-ups. I worship it. I have become a checker. I check endlessly.
This is how my day goes. I get up and I go to the coffee shop for a cup of anxiety. I check my LinkedIn, eBay account, Zoomers and Craigslist, and then read the news online. The news is so bad, I read it again on another site just to make sure it’s that horrible.
Then I notice a lump on my index finger so I Google my imagined illness du jour. I either have a malignant tumour or gnarly knuckles. We have enough information to be dangerous. I can’t trust my doctor or my financial advisor. I go online to look at the state of my mutual funds, to see how many points I have on my fifteen rewards cards.
I have so many passwords. I fear I will lose my mind and be sitting in a nursing home saying “rascalsbum343.” If you want to check your income tax online, Revenue Canada now makes you create your own security questions. This means I don’t know the answer or the question. And don’t you love it when the customer service people start giving you hints? “Your first dog’s name mixed with Grade 1 teacher’s name?”
I check my email and look at the many jokes forwarded by retirees who’ve just discovered how to use a computer; the virus warnings or the modern day chain letter offering me the blessing of 10 thousand cherubs as long as I forward it to 10 people within half an hour. If I don’t, I will burn in hell. Here I am. I live on an island and I’m sinking in spam.
What I need is human contact — a little Facebook to Facebook. I have 499 friends; 349 of them are Kimmetts who are talking about how much they’ve been drinking. At least they won’t blow over the legal limit driving on the information highway.
But I am so old, I remember when the phone rang and I used to pick it up. Now I stare at it and say, “Ah great. Why is he calling me at this time of night?” and I let it go to voicemail. Then when he doesn’t leave a message, I think what’s his game? There is only one thing worse: when you call your phone and that woman says, “You have no new messages.” Read: you have no messages, loser.
If I don’t text, do I exist? If a tweet falls in the forest, does it make a sound? I have been reduced to short form replying; I spell when I could speak. I type TTYL to my BFF but I refuse to write LOL. For someone with gnarly finger syndrome, I have the fastest fingers in the west.
So, I’ve gone back to watching TV. No. I won’t sign up for satellite. I will now stream everything I really like. It’s like that old saying, “The Geek shall inherit the earth, or at least the World Wide Web.”
- Deborah Kimmett