Funny Business

         If you’re a frequent reader, you know that all our kids are hilarious.

And quick. We’re planning a trip with them and I can’t wait.

          Meanwhile, here’s a sampling of what I can look forward to:

          (On a Zoom call, trying to plan the next one):

          Cassidy: Seven is okay, but that would be 8 o’clock here.

          Richie: Oh, that’s right. Because you live in the future.

          (Texting when I thanked them for the new computer they gave me for my birthday):

          Cassidy: Glad it’s better than the last one! A big thank you goes to Richie for seeing you needed it and knowing what to get you as well.

          Brandon: Fine. Thank you Richie.

          These are the same monkeys who try to come up with the most ridiculous things imaginable, when we go around the Thanksgiving table and say what we’re grateful for.

          And who made me worry through a whole vacation.

          And who used a fake name at a solemn ceremony.

          And who cracked joke after joke about my chemo.

           And who ruined all my clothes by giving them crazy names.

          I can only imagine what lies in store when we get all these kids together. Stay tuned!

          Meanwhile, check out my website where you can find all my books and a link to my Youtube Mom videos!

The Real Message of Non-Stop

            I like Liam Neeson.  I like suspense-filled action movies.  I do not like texting.  So, two out of three, right?  I still enjoyed his new movie, Non-Stop. AND, you will be happy to know, I did not let it ruin the movie knowing that nonstop should not be hyphenated.

            So, no spoilers, here, folks.  I’m not revealing any big secret when I say that  texted threats are a huge component of this movie’s story.  And, once again, I shall tell you how the entire premise of the movie could have been solved. 

            First, let me remind you that this is the blog where you read another amazing and insightful movie analysis here, where I pointed out that Iron Man 3 is entirely about menopause hot flashes so intense they make their victims burst into flames.  And I still stand by that conclusion.

            This time we have a movie whose complete danger could have been avoided if only Liam Neeson were more like me, ergo hated texting. 

             In fact, had U.S. Air Marshal Bill been as inept at it as I am, he would never have turned on his phone during the flight, would never have retrieved texted threats, and never even tried to respond.  He most certainly couldn’t have clickety-clacked like a teenager, and typed out such speedy messages.  Granted, he wouldn’t have the acrylic nails I do, which definitely hamper my attempts to text, but he’s 61 years old, already, and could easily blame his age for a lack of interest in texting.

            Anyone sending a stupid threat in this way would be ignored, perhaps even while Bill was enjoying an inflight meal and humming along with Oldies music on his head phones.  But no.  They had to have a techno-savvy marshal.  And a techno-savvy villain.

            Texting is not only an enormous danger while driving, and an annoying preoccupation of people standing right in front of each other, but can now pose a danger to anyone with an airline ticket.

            I’m telling you, if I’m in mid-air, the last thing I want is for my air marshal to have yet one more way to communicate with a hijacker or a terrorist.  If some criminal wants to pose a perilous demand, let him march up and speak personally, at which point he can get shot and—ta-da!  Problem solved.

            I just can’t believe they didn’t ask me to be an advisor on this movie.  

Something worth texting: Tell your friends to subscribe to my youtube channel, where I'm the Youtube Mom, here.

Liar, Liar, Pants May or May Not be on Fire

            A new study just came out that says people who text slowly are more likely to be liars.  Whaat?  How can they be onto me, already?  I just started texting with my new Smart Phone last week!  You can read about this dreadful, I mean this wonderful surprise birthday gift here:

            Researchers (and let me just derail for a moment to say these are, shall we say, an interesting group of people, themselves) have found that when people lie in texts, they take longer to respond, make more edits, and write shorter responses than usual. 

            Folks, if that isn’t a description of me, trying to text, I don’t know what is.  Ergo I am the biggest liar out there.  You can see the article on this breakthrough announcement at Meridian, the very online magazine where I write a weekly column here.  And yet, despite my being the most suspiciously deceptive individual with a cell phone, they still permit me to write for them.

            Apparently we humans are lousy at detecting untruths. We can only spot lies about half of the time, and we’re even less accurate when someone lies digitally, because we can’t see or hear them.  And those tell-tale pauses, the editing… it all points to Pinocchio, I tell you.

            But I want to go one further.  I think St. Bob, when he swipes the word manana, trying to sound as if he speaks Spanish, and it comes out banana, well—we all know this could point to his having psychotic, perhaps even serial killer, tendencies.  The very screen he’s working on has him pegged—he’s bananas!  

And when he writes Joni, and it comes out Homi, well, you can’t get more racist than that.  Sometimes it comes out Hobo, a disparaging and not politically correct label that makes us all shake our heads and wonder what is wrong with that man.

            There’s another clue, here.  When I text, the punctuation I so dearly love, goes out the window.  Gone.  Desapareció  (See?  I actually do speak Spanish).  It’s like the time I put an apostrophe in the wrong place, and my daughter stared at me and said, “This is the first sign that you need to go into assisted living.”  Well, now that I’m texting without any punctuation at all, it has to be a cry for help that I need to be put down.  Or at least sent on a cruise.  Something to ease the pain.

Hurry and text your friends to subscribe to this blog.  But for heaven’s sake, don’t pause when you do it, or they’ll never believe you.