but…uh…

I know I haven’t had a blog post in a million years. I’ve even had lots of good ideas for posts over the last few months, but I’ve been busy. Super busy. Mainly, I got married. That takes a lot of time. I’ll tell you all about it someday, but not now. Today is just a bit of sharing of some questionable email.

I get the privacy freaks who get too spooked about companies having too much info. I understand the idea of not wanting too much info in the hands of one company about your spending habits, web-surfing habits, what have you. While I certainly appreciate this, my general feelings are that when it comes to commerce, having so much data on you is almost as anonymizing as having none. With so much data you become no more than a statistical blip on a bottom line that no one really cares. Yes, you can be searched for, but you are also readily lost.

Besides, I figure if I’m going to have to sit through some form of advertisement I’d at least like them to have a chance of being something I might be interested in. Show me loving shots of a sexy new gadget instead of expounding on the virtues of a super absorbent diapers. Tell me about Michel Gondry’s latest movie instead of additional retirement benefits I may not be receiving. If you want me to know that it has wings, you’d better be talking about an airplane. It’s just common sense. It will just work out better for everyone that way.

I know that automated statistical data isn’t always right. Sometimes your Tivo thinks you’re gay or 7-year-olds get offers for gold cards. All in all though, I’ve always liked Amazon’s recommendations and the info they provide. It is helpful to know that 38% of the people who viewed an item bought something else. I like seeing that people in my area are into a particular book. In fact, if there is any problem I have it is that their recommendation engine is too good. I frequently find I have a page full or suggestions for stuff I already own.

Then there is this email.

I love Steve Martin. He’s clever, witty, dry, but with a great sense of heart. I’ve read all of his books and plays (and highly recommend The Zig-Zag Girl from this book). And while he certainly has a keen sense of understanding and insight into human behavior, I don’t quite get what he has to do with Public Services Inspection in the UK. Even if social workers in Britain love Steve for all of his quiet intellectualism wrapped in surreal and metaphorical dressings, I’m going to say they missed the mark.

I think maybe someone needs to tweak the algorithm just a little bit.

I like all kinds of peanut butter. Crunchy. Creamy. Healthy. Hazelnutty. Whatever.

However, at the core of my being, I’m a crunchy man. I like the texture, the solid *crack* of crunchy peanut butter. It turns out, finding real crunchy peanut butter is becoming impossible. This wonderful food has become another victim in the ultra-ization of America.

Apparently, people weren’t happy with just “crunchy.” Oh no. Judging by what’s on my local grocer’s shelf, people either want creamy or a jar of peanuts with some creamy mixed in. There is “ultra crunchy.” “Super crunchy.” “Mega crunchy.” “Extra crunchy.” What about crunchy? What about the middle path…just like Buddha recommended? Why is it so either or?

Can’t I just have some crunchy peanut butter?

(and yes, with this post, I am officially an old man)

So, I just realized that St. Patrick’s Day is on Friday. When did that happen?

For some reason, my thoughts turned to McDonald’s and their Shamrock Shakes. I haven’t had one of these in YEARS! Of course, since I never watch commercials I had no way to know if they had them or not. I thought they must, but to save a trip I looked online. There was no sight of them at the McDonald’s website. Ever since Supersize Me, though, their marketing has focused on the “healthy” aspects of their food and the benefits of exercise.

Yeah, whatever, clown. Give me a nuclear green shake and shut your fry hole.

So, if they won’t tell me about what they are ACTUALLY selling, I knew that Google would save me. A quick search for shamrock shake turns up this site. Bring Back the Shamrock Shake. WTF? According to this guy, they hadn’t made them in up to 10 years. Am I really that old? That’s crazy.

So, I dutifully clicked on the link to send some feedback to Ronald McDonald and I gave him a piece of my mind.

Bring back the shamrock shake!

I was about to get up and go to McDonald’s just to get one and a quick search on Google tells me you haven’t made them in years. What’s up with that? They were the best thing EVAR!

I’m sure you wouldn’t be able to whip some up for this year, but maybe next year you could turn it around and everyone will be happier. I know I would be. And so would my friends.

Luck o’ the Irish to ya,

Aaron O’Hurley

OK, so my last name isn’t O’Hurley, but I thought if I mick’d it up a little with an extra O’ I might garner more sympathy.

Not long after sending off my note of concern I see ANOTHER page on the same site saying that Shamrock Shakes have been spotted at McDonald’s in various parts of the country. Well, now there’s a mission. A chance. I don’t care if I end up driving to Ohio, I’m going to get a sweet sweet minty shake. I will not be denied.

Turns out, I wasn’t. 2 miles down the road at the closest McDonald’s I could find, they had them right there on the menu board. They didn’t have any big posters or anything on the building. They reserved those for the selling their Apple Walnut Salad. (Come on. Who do they think they are kidding?) You can click on the photo below to see the whole adventure. It may not have been as difficult as originally envisioned, still, it was so thick, and frothy, and just so shamrocky.

They are so choice. If you have the means, I highly recommend picking one up.

As we move into hour 27 of no cable modem, or what I like to call "America’s National Crisis," the sense of loss is palpable. I’ve always been fascinated by competing cliches and no more than this pair:

1. Absence makes the heart grow fonder.
2. Out of sight, out of mind.

When it comes to broadband access, or internet access of any kind for that matter, #1 is clearly the winner here. When easy, pervasive access isn’t there I realize how much I thrive on instant access to the resources provided by distant servers. The luddites in the world who feel that the internet is primarily for porn and bomb making instructions will never understand. I’m not sure I can even explain it. I can’t seem to have a thought enter my brain that doesn’t finally exit with some sort of action that would normally be accomplished on the internet.

• Hey! Is that the actress from that other movie?
• I need to get that used book for 1/2 off.
• What’s the number for customer service?
• Is that new movie getting good reviews?
• Can I really afford to go to the movies?
• Is it a new Arrested Development this week?
• No crushed tomatoes? I wish I had a recipe for a good pasta sauce without tomatoes.
• Is there a nearby place to get an oil change?
• How do you spell onomatopoeia?

I know there are lots of archaic ways to accomplish these feats (phone books, newspapers, Ken Jennings) but when you aren’t set up to use them, it’s more hassle than it’s worth. It becomes much easier to sit in front of the television and do nothing. Maybe it is just rationalizing being lazy but I don’t think so. Last night by 9pm or so I found myself contemplating going to bed. For a night owl like me it is ridiculous but what else can I do? It was sort of like Little House on the Prairie. There is only so long you can study by candlelight so you turn in early just like Pa and Half-Pint. In fact, I’d rather not have electricity and be warmed by the glow of my battery operated, broadband connected monitor. I know it seems silly to be sounding off on this considering I am sitting at Otherlands using their free WiFi while sucking down a latte but when comforts become necessities it hurts when they are removed.