Gimme an "L"

“She was looking kind of dumb with her finger and her thumb in the shape of an "L" on her forehead . . .”

It’s been a day.

The idea was to drive up to Nashville and catch a session at the temple in hopes to regain a bit of peace and/or sanity. (please, no snarky comments from the peanut gallery about how 'you can't regain what you never had'...)

The fact that I hadn’t made a reservation at the temple to do any proxy work wasn’t lost on me. I figured we’d get in and get done whatever we were able to do and call it good for the day.

The people were kind and helpful and the time of temple worship and quiet was nice. Also was the added bonus of hearing some of the older women there talk and chit chat about their various maladies of old age and how they affect daily life. It was like background music for my relaxation.

As I sat there trying to unassumingly soak up the quiet of the day away from the distractions of regular daily life, one of the older women indicated that she was no longer able to put her bra on without help from her husband. The other old women nodded along sympathetically. That kind of perked up my radar’s attention since normally, people don’t discuss their undies publicly in that age bracket.

Then, the first old lady dropped the other shoe… “Naturally, with him helping put on my bra, that brings on other issues we have to deal with since he… well, you know…”

One of the other old women cackled and said, “Yeah, we know your husband!” I about rolled off of my chair at that point and could no longer conceal the fact that I had listened in on their not quite so private conversation. I don’t tend to think of senior citizens as being ‘randy’ but I guess they have every right to those feelings just like folks who are younger.

It brought up mental images that I'll be weeks scrubbing from my memory. {shudder!}

When we got back on the road after our morning out, Beth and I started looking for a place for lunch and chatted over her newest technological toys. She has a mobile WiFi hotspot and a new iTouch that also has a camera. They were both added to her stable of technological aids to help her with her school work. That they are also useful for fun is just a plus. As we drove along, I looked over some of the features as she explained them and we decided it was time to eat. Naturally, we selected our favorite 5-star restaurant.

Techno rednecks that we are, we used Beth’s WiFi hotspot to chat to each other while we were separated by the apparently communications impassable abyss of the Subway table’s length.

Geeks.

Yeah, it’s time to look for the place that brand that scarlet letter “L” onto our foreheads…

Beth’s new techno toy has an engraved scriptural reminder about ‘opposition in all things’. She said it was appropriate since that scripture carried her through the grueling opposition of officer’s training and was also a reminder that techno toys can be a doubled-edged sword – useful and potentially destructive – dependant upon how and where and for what they are used. Sort of a 'grandma' reminder that dampens the elan.

She asked what I would put as an engraving on the back of mine.

Hmmmmm. I thought about that. And I’m still thinking.

One of my institute teachers asked us if we were being “steppingstones or stumbling blocks” to the success of others and if things we relied upon fell into either category.
Kinda made me think about how I use the techno toys in my own life. While I don’t want to feel like technology is a catchall for evil, I also don’t want to embrace it as a bosom buddy that is a secret usurper. So I’ll have to ponder what engraving would best describe my uneasy relationship with the technology that has become redneck standard for me.

I guess the funniest part about how Beth and I were using the chatting back and forth was that we both knew it WAS just for fun. Unlike people who employ technology as a barrier to human contact, I believe I'd miss both the interaction and expressions on the face of people I'm talking to, and devices will never fully share all of the gestures that we make as we talk would be missed if the conversation was completely reliant upon technology.

Sure, there are symbols and geek-speak for a variety of actions, but when someone says “ROFL” are they really rolling on the floor laughing… and would you really even CONSIDER rolling on the floor at Subway’s?

Eeeeeeew. Wilted lettuce giblets, bread crumbs and a soggy pickle stuck to your clothing, plus assorted marks of where people had walked in and out of the building and the bathroom… call that another big Eeeeeeew!

The son of a friend came up with a new acronym of “LQTMS” for reading chat messages. He said it means: “laughing quietly to myself”. It would save the amount of incredible embarrassment and energy of action if no rolling on the floor were actually performed and more likely reflects the truth. We read something funny and snicker, laugh or guffaw while we are in private somewhere. If we are in public, we temper our reactions to keep from becoming the mall jackass.

Back to the inscription for the flip side of the iTouch, Beth suggested I engrave my iTouch to say “TROLL!”.

I told her it should say “I am NOT a troll!” Upon further reflection, I think I should add one of those little ‘sticking out the tongue’ emoticons as well as putting “NYAH!”.

She also called me a ‘dillweed’ today. I hope it was a term of endearment… otherwise, I think I know what to do with a lovely dumpster full of wilted lettuce shreds and shrivelled pickles.

By the way, in your travels to and fro in the earth, if you should happen to find where the queue forms for where the permanent “L” is placed on the forehead… please let either Beth or me know. I’m sure we'll let the other one know where to go since we will need to be in line together to get the ‘scarlet letter’ of the loser.

Technology rocks.

In the hands of a couple of Deep South rednecks, the best you can hope for is an Alabama roll.

Oh, and in a further proof of "losery-ness", when we left Subway to head home, Beth couldn't find her sunglasses. We looked in the car, she looked in her purse, she even went back into the restaurant to find them...

yeah... losers with a capital "L"... they were hanging down the front of her blouse.

Neither of us saw them.

I'm not sure who wins (or loses) on being the biggest loser.