Texting

(Foreward: As I press 'Publish' on this post, I see that - at least in my viewer - the emojis I attempted to use below didn't work. Given the subject and tone, I think that's funny because it completely discredits me - so I left it that way. I hope you can't see them either. David.)

Here's an article that ran in the Minneapolis Star Tribune a few days ago:

http://www.thestar.com/news/world/2016/02/20/texting-brings-out-passive-aggressive-in-people.html.

So that you don't have to read the whole thing, let me summarize it for you: texting is stupid.

Okay, it doesn't say exactly that. In fact, it outlines some guidance on texting, based on "the help of expert communicators and millennials". Here are the 5 pieces of guidance it offers, along with some commentary:

1. Lose the attitude, i.e. the period. 

Apparently, text messages that end with a period are perceived to be less sincere. "Sure" is a term of agreement, whereas "Sure." is "passive aggressive indifference".

Okay.

Here's my position on that: Pffffffft! (That's an old-fashioned raspberry). If any of you have been reading my texts and misinterpreted a period to mean that I was being passive aggressive, I wasn't. That is, I might not have been (since I'm often passive aggressive). Usually, when I use a period it's because I'm ending a sentence or a communication. (Was that passive aggressive? Maybe.)

Have we really gone from teaching people to use periods at the end of sentences (at which my six-year-old is becoming quite adept), to teaching them not to because texting is some other language? Wow.

Keep the periods and lose the suspicion about what others are really trying to say. Or, as the article concludes, "When in doubt, just make a phone call." Period.

2. Use more emojis. 

Whoa! Not emojis! I refuse.

From the start, I have steadfastly refused to use the things. The worst - WORST - is people who make jokes and then make sure you know they've made a joke by attaching a smiley face or some other emoji to diffuse the possibility of misinterpretation. Now, to be fair, I have trained everyone I know that whenever I say anything, I'm joking. (Except when I'm not! 😜) 

(Grain of salt: the guy who is lecturing you about not using emojis, had no idea how to insert one just now and had to search his Apple for "iMessage" - because he doesn't know where it is - then insert an emoji into a phoney text and cut-and-paste it here.)

Know this. When you use an emoji on me, you are insulting me. I am assuming that you think I'm not smart enough to figure out what you're really saying when you say something to me. Plus, (real reason I hate them) they're too small for me to see without my old-person reading glasses.

I will give you one exception: a text with only a smiley face, or a frowny face, or a pile-of-stinking-poop emoji is okay in my books. In those cases, the picture might be worth a thousand words. Assuming I can make it out (which I can't).

3. Use the exclamation mark. 

Damn straight! 

As the article goes on to say, "it implies an opinion or feeling". (I think "implies" might be a little weak, though. That's like saying that mooning the Grand Canyon - you know who you are - implies that you're a little weird.)

I get this one. I know that "look, someone is mooning the Grand Canyon" is very different from "Look! Someone is mooning the Grand Canyon!"

That said, please use exclamation marks sparingly! They are annoying when overused! And don't let the habit of using them bleed into other more sophisticated lines of written communication! I mean it!

4. A letter isn’t just a letter. 

I once daughter-texted "K" and got a "don't 'K' me" in response. Now I get it. Apparently sending one letter answers "can imply that the sender doesn't have time for you."  (Or, it could simply mean that the sender thought he was conforming by texting a one letter answer.)

To make the point even clearer, and to emphasize Guidance 1 above, the article says: A “K” with a period might as well be a middle-finger emoji." 

For these reasons, I apologize! K? (Sure.)

(Is there really a middle-finger emoji? I don't seem to have one in iMessage. K.)

5. Change your expectations. 

I'll give you the full text from the article here, because it's not really self-explanatory:

"Text messages are intended to be short. They’re a quick way to communicate, so unless you’re texting your boss, you don’t have to be formal, and neither does the sender. Unless it’s being used to convey emotion, punctuation is pointless. If you do receive a text chock-full of K’s, yups and periods, calm down — everything is probably OK."

There are people out there who basically write e-mails in their texts. They should heed Guidance 5, for sure. I also think that those who contributed to Guidance 1-4 should read Guidance 5.

Intended to be short. Quick communication. Don't have to be formal. So why read so much into the nuances of the very few words, letters and punctuation marks people are throwing around to communicate quickly? If you have to learn the rules so as not to piss people off, if you have to tread carefully so as not to imply things you don't mean to imply, if you have to read articles to socially conform - that doesn't feel like something that's short, quick and informal.

The other thing that I find funny about this guidance, btw, is that it says "punctuation is pointless" 😂.

I don't know. This is probably just me being an old fart, but does anyone out there remember when we used to communicate face-to-face, by phone, or by - gasp - hand-written letters?

For my dear wife's recent milestone birthday, I asked her friends and families to write and mail her hand-written letters in lieu of anything else. There were some who didn't know how to do this. And then there were many who used to know how to do this, but told me they had basically lost the ability. For them, the solution was to first type the letter into their computer and then copy it down on paper from there.

That doesn't surprise me, but it does sadden me. I have boxes of old letters and I know - for sure - that I could pull most of them out of the box and at-a-glance know from whom I received them. Not just recognize their handwriting, but remember the person behind the hand.

Try to do that by reading a text.

😢.

Amazing Race New York

Tuesday, February 16, 2016

Three teams from a professional services organization - each heading to Long Island for an important client engagement scheduled to begin on Wednesday at 8:30 am - set out on a madcap race with staggered start times across the Greater Toronto Area.

Team One, made up of David (yours truly) and his colleague "H" are scheduled on a 9:15 Air Canada flight leaving from Toronto's Pearson Airport (YYZ) and arriving at Laguardia (LGA) 90 minutes later.

Team Two, "J", "D", and "S", are scheduled on a 10:15 AC flight from the same airport.

Team Three, "B" and "L", won't depart until 2:15, again on AC from YYZ.

---

9:15 am - Team One boards their flight. Every last seat is full because cancellations of AC flights to NY the day before have caused a passenger spill-over on every flight between YYZ and LGA scheduled that day. David's plan is to watch half a movie on the flight (the other half on the return) and chooses Sicario.

9:45 am - The plane pushes back from the gate and promptly dies. It is still and quiet on board - no fans are whirring, no engines are humming. A M*A*S*H moment plays in David's head ("Do you hear that?", "What? I don't hear anything", "That's what I mean...")

9:46 am - The intrepid pilot appears from out his cockpit, addressing us in person: "As you can see, the plane has completely powered off. I will be turning it back on in a moment. When I do, either everything will be okay or all of the pre-flight programming I've done will be lost and it'll take me about 15 minutes to redo it."

10:01 am - The plane is powered back up and ready to go. Sadly, David's progress on Sicario is lost and he must re-start it at the beginning and fast-forward. "Oh well", he thinks, "at least we're on our way..."

10:15 am - The pilot comes to address us in person again: "I have some bad news. Laguardia has just closed. It's called a 'ground hold' (or something like that - that's me speaking, not the pilot) and it's because there's too much traffic landing there and so they don't allow any other flights to take off for a while. We are on a one hour and forty-five minute hold. Another flight needs our gate so we're going to push back and hold on the tarmac. But that's okay because there's a one-hour line up for de-icing here in Toronto. If all goes well, the timing will work out for us. Before we push back, I'll give you the option of getting off the plane with only one rule: you cannot have checked baggage." (Not that Team One would have left the plane given what they knew at that point, but they do have checked baggage and so they don't have that option).

Some people begin to leave the plane. Apparently there is some confusion because some of those leaving think they'll be getting back on the plane once we've left the gate. After several announcements to that effect, those who are staying settle back in for the wait.

In the meantime, H - David's team-mate, sitting directly behind him - gets word that Team Two's flight has been cancelled. The Team One members realize how lucky they are to be on possibly the only flight that will get out of Toronto that day bound for Laguardia. H, who is in charge of getting everyone to New York, calls the travel partner to find other options for Team Two. Team Three begins their trek to Pearson.

12:15 pm - David finishes Sicario and starts Burnt (probably because the title seems so apropos).

12:45 pm - The engines rev up, the plane races down the runway and is shortly airborne. Hoorah! Team One has a seemingly insurmountable lead. Poor Team Two has chosen its only same-day alternative: They will fly to Boston and take a car service from Boston to Long Island. If all goes well, they will arrive around 9:30 pm. Team Three arrives at Pearson.

1:40 pm - The pilot makes an announcement: "Laguardia has closed again. They won't be letting any planes land for 30 minutes. Problem is we don't have enough gas to wait 30 minutes and keep our options open if the airport still isn't allowing us to land. So we'll talk to them and see what we can do. We may have to land somewhere else."

1:50 pm - The pilot makes an announcement: "We're heading back to Toronto." David doesn't hear the rest of the announcement. H kicks his chair.

2:25 pm - David finishes Burnt and closes his eyes.

3:30 pm - Team One arrives at Pearson. Team Two's flight to Boston is boarding as is Team Three's flight to Laguardia. Team One's flight is now officially cancelled. They must leave the plane, clear customs, get their bags and re-start their travels anew.

4:00 pm - H's bag is in her hands. David's bag is on the conveyer that leads to the carousel - just out of reach - when the conveyer and carousel promptly stop dead. H leaves for the Air Canada counter in Aisle 3 Departures Level as per instructions to see what options they will offer and to ensure Team One's return flight doesn't get cancelled by accident. The Travel Agent has booked cancellable flights to Newark on Porter (Toronto Island airport) leaving at 8:30 pm just in case.

4:15 pm - David bumps into H on her way from Aisle 3 Departures Level to Aisle 15 Departures level where the airline should have sent her in the first place. They walk from one end of the airport to the other together. H has since learned that Team Two's flight has been delayed by 90 minutes and that Team Three's flight has been cancelled. Porter's 8:30 pm flight has been sold out. The next option available for Team 3 is Porter's 6:30 am flight the next day. Teams Two and Three are booked (with cancellable tickets) on that flight. Team One is on the 8:30 pm Porter flight and is suddenly back in the lead!

4:45 pm - Nothing doing at Aisle 15 Departures level. Just a bank of white Air Canada phones. No human beings present except the intrepid members of Team One. Team Three is now minutes from having their baggage and leaving Pearson, so Team One and Team Three decide to travel downtown together, have dinner, and await Team One's flight. Team Three is booked into a downtown Toronto hotel. Meanwhile, Team Two's flight has miraculously departed for Boston. They are now in the lead.

5:00 pm - Teams One and Three board the Union/Pearson (UP) train to downtown Toronto.

5:30 pm - Teams One and Three sit down for dinner at a pub near the Porter airport shuttle.

6:15 pm - On a whim, H checks the Porter flights for that evening. Two seats have magically opened up on the 7:40 pm flight. Not wanting to lose Team One's seats on the 8:30, she graciously books Team Three onto the 7:40...SUCCESSFULLY. Now Team Three will be on the 7:40, Team One on the 8:30, and Team Two will be arriving in Boston at any moment. We may all get there after all! Teams One and Three hastily exit the pub and grab a Taxi to the Island Airport.

6:30 pm - Teams One and Three arrive at the Island Airport. There is no possibility of stand-by for Team One on the 7:40. Only Team Three will be on that flight. Oh well. Teams One and Three agree to meet up in Newark and share the 90 minute drive from there to Laguardia to save significant money.

6:45 pm - The 8:30pm Porter flight is delayed to 10:15, no 10:30, no 10:25. The 7:40 is looking good for on-time departure.

8:00 pm - Team Three is on their way. Team One starts watching Netflix on the floor of the Island Airport. Team Two is in a car from Boston to Long Island. Team Three will no longer be waiting from Team One in Newark. Another car is arranged.

9:30 pm - Team Three is in a car from Newark to long Island. David is onto his second episode of Jessica Jones.

10:40 pm - Team One is off on its second flight to New York of the day.

12:03 am - Team One has safely landed in Newark. Team Three is snuggled down in their beds in the hotel on Long Island. Team Two has arrived in Long Island as well.

12:15 am - Team One has finally located its driver. He was awaiting them in a cell phone lot. The first words out of his mouth are: "I sure hope one of you knows how to get out of Newark. I don't." He is not joking.

12:30ish am - Team One and its driver are entering Manhattan. H is following our progress on Waze. The driver seems to be heading in a direction that is opposite to the one that will get us to Long Island. She politely mentions this to the driver...several times. The driver becomes increasingly annoyed with H. He has been living in Manhattan all his life and knows the way to Long Island, thank you very much.

2:00 am - David awakens to flashing lights. The driver has been pulled over for driving 100 mph on the Long Island Expressway. The police officers asks him what he was thinking, driving 100 mph on the LIE. His response: "I was just about to exit" (the implication being that he had slowed down to only 100 mph so that he could exit). The police officer asks again "What does exiting have to do with you driving 100 mph on the LIE???" The driver points a thumb at H and answers that he was driving that fast because the lady in the back wanted to get home because she's tired.

2:20 am - Team One is on its way again.

2:30 am - Team One arrives at the hotel.

2:45 am - David gets into bed.

Team Three won Amazing Race New York, getting to Long Island at around 11:00 pm. Team Two finished in second, asleep by 12:30 am. Team one finished a distant third, with a 2:45 am bed time. But everybody won because we did eventually make it, a little bleary eyed, but ready for action at 7:15 am.

Epilogue: Mid-day on Wednesday, H receives an e-mail letting her know that Team One's driver from the night before has been terminated. David thinks about it. The driver has David's cell number and knows where he is staying for the next 72 hours. But what could happen...?

Valentine's Day Advice

I'm getting lots of requests in Reader Mail to share my wisdom around Valentine's Day. I'm a guy surrounded by women, and I've got a bit of a reputation for being a great gift-giver, so what do I suggest...?

1. Do something...ANYTHING. Ignoring February 14th is not an option. The day exists. Start by accepting this simple fact. "It's a greeting card holiday"; "It's all about retailers and florists moving product"; "I don't need to do something one day a year to show you I love you". True as these statements might be, these are called 'excuses' when you use them, and these are called 'setting yourself up for disappointment' when your loved-one does.
2. Get/make a card. This is the one gift-giving event where the card is more important than the gift. A great card with a crappy gift is what your loved-one loves about you ("What a moron, but he/she is sure thoughtful"). A great gift with no card might as well have come from a gift exchange at the office ("Wow. Nice gloves. I wonder who they're from?") Furthermore, write something sweet and mushy on the card. Whatever you write, it should be unusually sappy and vulnerable-sounding. If the card merely repeats what you say every day than it might as well have been pre-printed. Even terrible poetry written with sincerity is better than "I LOVE YOU XOXOX", if you're already at the point in your relationship where those 3 words have become as commonplace as "Good morning!" or "Would you mind making me a coffee?"
3. Sign the card and put your loved one's name on the front of the envelope. This avoids any confusion about the from-whom and the to-whom. It can also avert disasters in the case where ambiguity might be involved or multiple-loved ones are receiving cards (e.g. Husband/Wife card is a little sexy, and other family members are also receiving cards). A little doodled heart on the envelope is a nice touch. When you sign the card, don't use your last name (I hope I don't need to explain why).
4. Take a chance on the gift. It doesn't have to be expensive, but it has to demonstrate thought and effort. Think hard about your loved-one. Try to remember something that he/she mentioned 4+ months ago that you could only possibly remember because you love them so much. Try to get something he/she wants but that you couldn't possibly know he/she wants. Avoid kitchen appliances, weight-loss or fitness paraphernalia, wrinkle-removing lotions, or anything else that can be taken the wrong way. Keeping all that in mind, take a risk on something that you genuinely believe reflects your deep affection. Even if it's stupid, stupid-genuine works.
5. Avoid the easy way out. It's easy to say "no gift, but I'll take you to dinner" or "no gift, but I'll make you a nice dinner" or "he/she really liked last year's pedicure gift card so I'll do that again this year". Valentine's gift-giving is not like golf, where consistency in your swing is what wins the round. It's more like kick-boxing where you're trying to keep your opponent off-balance and vulnerable through deception and mis-direction (I know nothing about kick-boxing, by the way, but I'd guess that deception and mis-direction is probably better than doing the same thing over and over). 
6. Be very cautious when it comes to Valentine's gifts/cards for multiple loved-ones of equal standing. Let's say you have three daughters, for example. They all need to receive exactly the same thing from you, personalized in exactly the same way. This can mean three doggie cards, with three different doggies that are somehow directly relevant to each of your three daughters, but the doggies must be equally cute. And you must give exactly the same number of "X"s and "O"s if you're doing the XOXOXO thing. If you're drawing a little heart on one card, put one on each card that is precisely the same size. If you're saying "I love you, <name>", keep font-size and swirling letters as equal as possible. Buy gifts that are directly equivalent if not exact. Keep prices consistent. Understand that all of these variables WILL BE compared and somebody will feel shafted if anything is off-kilter.
7. Be excited. Do you love your loved-one? Are you about to make him or her happy? Isn't that the most important thing you can do on this planet? You should feel excited. You should have butterflies in your tummy (I don't think I've ever said "tummy" before in a post, but "tummy" is the kind of word that resonates around Valentine's Day). If you're doing this right, you should feel out-of-your-comfort-zone and very vulnerable. Don't hide it. Don't suppress it.  Embrace it! You are Kevin Costner in Tin Cup, firing ball after ball into the pond because you're trying for that perfect shot. Don't pull up. Go for it. You're not going to win the Masters, but you're certain to win his/her heart.

Reporting Back on Saturday's Play Date

The six-year-old had a play date on Saturday. She and her date - a new one from the new school - had fun and all went well.

In case you're wondering how parents can possibly know for sure how a play date went, towards the end of their time together my wife overheard the little visitor whisper to my daughter: "I knew this was going to be a great play date!" (the giant, bolded font has been used to represent how 6-year-olds whisper).

During the date, the girls did the usual play date things: a painting-teacups-and-saucers craft, a tea party complete with stuffed animal guests, a little bit of spying on the grownups complete with nefarious giggles, and a little bit of gorging on cupcakes right before dinner.

If you have a six-year-old boy, you may not be familiar with the rituals of an all-girl six-year-old play date. Or, maybe they're exactly the same. What do I know?

When the date was over, the girls hugged and parted ways. Arrangements were made for a second date next weekend.

Before any of my daughters' friends from her old school get jealous, please remember that you all had a chance to come over on Friday night to hang out with her. We no longer need to have play dates with any of you. You're now family and family members have 'get-togethers'.

My wife and I went up to my daughters' bedroom a little later on and saw her room as messy as it has EVER been. Probably messier than her older sisters' bedrooms have EVER been. "No problem," said my wife with a loving smile, "we'll clean it in the morning."

Whoa! Wait a minute! Hold the phone! My wife saw a really, really messy bedroom and said that???!??! Really? If you're an older daughter of ours you understand how out of character that is. You might even resent it. When Mom sees your bedroom with the slippers by the foot of the bed slightly askew, she shrieks your entire name (first, first-middle, second-middle, and last), curses in Italian, and declares that the room looks like"A DISASTER AREA"(the giant, bolded font has been used to represent how she patiently explains her position on something). But the six-year-old gets a loving smile and a morning clean up. Sheesh.

David though (that's me, third-person), feeling like it's only fair to treat the six-year-old at least a little bit like her sisters, insisted that we all pitch in and clean up the room before bed. So we did. The end.

But now we get to the humbling part and the real point of this post... While cleaning up, I noticed that the little visitor had written all sorts of Post-it Notes and hung them all over the room. They had cute little messages on them written for and about my daughter. While we were reading them, my daughter said with the cute and oh, so wrong innocence of childhood: “They’re magnetic! That’s how they stick to the wall.”  

I, of course, being a great dad, realized that a learning moment was at hand: “They’re not magnetic, oh sweet one,” I  began, “they’re called ‘Post-it Notes'. They’ve got a little bit of glue on them – not sticky enough to get stuck to the wall, but just enough to hold onto the wall and allow you to still peel them off easily.” 

“No, they’re magnetic,” said she, again with the endearing and misguided certainty of the very young. 

“No, honey, they’re not magnetic. As I said, they stick because of a special kind of glue…” I then told her the history of the discovery of the Post-it Note, and explained all about happy accidents and innovation. I was about to bring her downstairs to show her the Post-it Notes website and all of the different colours and sizes they come in, when I turned over the pad and saw that they weren't Post-it Notes at all. They were some kind of newfangled magnetic note!

I then felt the back of the magnetic notes and realized that THERE WAS NO GLUE STRIP. These little things were sticking to wall WITHOUT GLUE! They were indeed magnetic.

I then declared that I was wrong, great dad that I am.

And now the six-year-old knows that sometimes, rarely but sometimes, Daddy can be wrong.

Good thing the older two still believe in me. They still believe that Daddy can do 7-digit multiplication in his head. All the little one can hold onto is that Daddy is nearly perfect, but he does admit he's wrong on those very rare occasions when he is. 

I guess that's something.