The Scrap Heard Round the World
When I worked at a newspaper office many years ago, I used to love going through the mail. For some reason, we always received a lot of complimentary trade magazines and catalogues for niche markets - things like restaurant business suppliers or chiropractic office outfitters. It was like peeking into hidden, private worlds. And to this day, 'advertising speak,' when applied to these specialized groups, always cracks me up. For example:
* Deliver to the email inbox like you OWN it!
* Kodak In-Vivo Multispectral Imaging System FX enables *advanced unmixing of multiple fluorochromes.*
* Holstein World & AllBreed Access Country Store: The One Stop Shopping Spot for Dairy Enthusiasts!
Anyway, I haven't done this in a while, and boy, have I missed some major developments.
For example, consider the world of scrapbooking. Yes, you know, that quaint little hobby your grandmother or even great-grandmother pursued? The one that involved clipping newspaper spots about your relatives, mainly highlighting who'd been hatched, matched or dispatched?
Well, as proof that *nothing* is immune to the Big American Marketing Machine, it is now an industry worth $2.6 billion. I'm fairly certain there are entire countries that aren't worth that much.
There are websites, YouTube instructional videos, global conferences, television segments and even specialized software (for the truly modern digital scrapbooker). Indeed, the hobby has become so widespread and involved that some economists have begun to speculate that the so-called "subprime mortgage meltdown" may have been caused by scrapbooking. This is because of the double-whammy caused by the pastime: missing mortgage payments because two-thirds of your income is tied up in scrapbooking supplies, and losing several work days in a row while trying to finish a layout.
The industry has its own celebrities, who crisscross the country to teach, and who apparently get offers to go to Paris and London. Which leads me to ask a very important question: Would it kill someone to make *me* an offer to go to Paris? What about product endorsements? What if I said your product did a fantastic job of unmixing multiple fluorochromes?
There are also scandals: When prominent scrapbooker Kristina Contes entered and won a contest, but apparently broke one of the rules by submitting a layout with a photograph taken by someone else, and the sponsoring magazine seemed to overlook the infraction... the scrapbooking community went absolutely ballistic.
In discussion threads, people accused the magazine of rigging the contest, and felt the entire affair was on par with Olympic Games related drug scandals. Some commenters unloaded directly on Contes, calling her, among other things, trailer park trash, someone who didn't have a moral bone in her body, and a skank with a wide ass.
If my mention of the digital software hadn't blown away your (gentle, grandmotherly) perceptions of scrapbooking, I'm sure that last paragraph did.
Meanwhile, the reaction of the community has made me realize two fundamental truths:
1. The root cause of conflict in human society is not politics, religion, or even sexual or economic competition. It's all about the level of emotional investment. This is why some people will hit the streets over election results, and other people will drop gloves over a parking space.
2. Anyone who has ever even waved a pot of glue at a scrapbook (myself included) really shouldn't snigger over the fact there are people who voluntarily call themselves dairy enthusiasts.
One thing scrapbookers do have over many of us though, is the ability to make some really nice things. I'm always amazed at the amount of creative energy people have, and how some of the most mundane or banal aspects of our existence can be turned into miniature works of art.
And if I could just find a way to be that artistic with unmixed multiple fluorochromes, I might yet earn that invite to Paris.
---
And you thought I was kidding:
http://tinyurl.com/2k2ssj (LA Times story on Contes, requires free registration)
http://tinyurl.com/269gwa (Some comments on the scandal)
http://tinyurl.com/27c5a7 (Example layouts)
MAILBAG:
I knew we were getting old when we drove back from Nantwich and Adam challenged me to keep the fuel economy at 50mpg. No longer was it how fast you could go (I have promised Adam a sports car for his midlife crisis) but it was about how far... Congratulations on your new Mum mobile... please feel free to burn teenagers off at lights just because you can (and my engine is MUCH bigger than theirs!)
Clare
--
My dearest Chandra,
The only 'rational green contributive move' a man can make in his life is to marry a low maintenance wife.
- Laz
---
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(c) 1997-2008 Chandra K. Clarke
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Monday, February 11, 2008
Sunday, January 13, 2008
The Grass is Finally Greener
You'll have to excuse us newly minted hybrid car drivers. We're both slightly distracted and a bit smug.
With our lease expiring on our reliable five-door this year, my husband and I opted to exchange it for a hybrid Camry. We've only had it a few weeks, but already the changes it's produced in us are remarkable.
First, you must understand that never in a million years did I see myself driving a sedan. The word "sedan" is entirely too close to the word "sedate" for my liking. Second, in spite of a brief, but meaningful relationship with a red Tiburon back in the (pre-motherhood) day, I've never really liked driving much. Driving is incredibly boring, but it requires your full attention - or at least, that's what the officer who caught me trying to catch up on the latest issue of New Scientist told me.
Meanwhile, my husband, who's never met a train he didn't like, has an innate suspicion of anything that doesn't blow steam or require a third rail.
So it comes as a great surprise to find that we really enjoy piloting our hybrid. I say "piloting" because it feels like you're on board a starship. The regenerative braking sounds like you're dropping out of warp, and it's completely silent at stop lights and stealthy in parking lots. As it comes with push button controls and digital readouts, plus a way to pipe your cell phone calls through the dash hands-free ("Scotty! Are you there?"), my husband is seriously debating getting new plates that read NCC-1701.
Thus far, we've only discovered two drawbacks to our new car. One is that the feedback system encourages you to play a 'video game' of sorts with yourself while driving, by scoring you on your consumption. You find yourself constantly watching the fuel use meter, trying to drive with a feather foot, and thinking of more efficient routes to work. Do not be alarmed if you see me doing a little victory dance in the driver's seat when I rate an "Excellent!"
That's the distracted part I mentioned earlier. The smug part is when you silently glide up beside the big, noisy, fuel sucking SUV driver who impatiently pulled out and around you two blocks ago. You see him jump in surprise, and then watch him realize he's no further ahead than you in traffic but about $20 poorer to boot. I think I may have to develop a special dance for those occasions too.
The second drawback is that now entirely too easy to rationalize a trip into a Tim Horton's drive through because you don't have the carbon footprint induced guilt associated with idling as you wait. If we're not careful, our doughnut weight gain will more than offset our fuel efficiency.
Chocolate glazed overdoses aside, what really strikes me about the hybrid and other more environmentally friendly products is that the market is finally getting it. It used to be that the only way to be kinder to the Earth was to be a Certified Hippie. You know, the people who actually wore those coats made out of recycled plastic bottle pieces, could find time to make all their own cleaning products and who lived in reclaimed transport containers.
These days there are all kinds of choices out there. Want to reduce electricity use? Store shelves are full of low energy, long life bulbs. (Bonus: Fewer trips up the ladder.) Worm composting to reduce your kitchen waste not your thing? (And let's face it, worms should not be present in any kitchen that also has toddlers). Get a low wattage electric composter. (Bonus: In two weeks you'll have enough soil to re-pot the petunias your toddlers discovered).
Tired of the energy drain that is the ironing pile? Behold and hallelujah, we've invented no-iron shirts and pants. (Oh c'mon, tell me you don't think that ironing is toxic to *your* environment.) And I don't know about you, but I've already picked out my mid-life crisis car: the all-electric Tesla.
Not easy being green? That was so twentieth century. There are all kinds of easy to implement changes that can make a difference right now.
Let's hop to it.
---
And you thought I was kidding:
http://tinyurl.com/2x4o9s
http://tinyurl.com/34k78p
---
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Monday, November 05, 2007
Improving With Age
I have apparently reached The Self-Improvement Years.
Perhaps it was because I caught sight of myself in the bathroom mirror early one morning a few months back. Maybe it was when I was frowning at my planning calendar and sitting in a living room that looked like a Toys "R" Us had exploded nearby. Or maybe it was having to deal with someone's estate recently and realizing their entire house had become a Junk Drawer (and don't pretend you don't know what this is, you have one too).
In any case, I realized today that I've been consuming a steady stream of self-help books for some time now. Books on how to boost your business. Volumes on how to stay more organized. Primers on how to avoid looking at yourself in the mirror first thing in the morning.
It's getting to the point where I'm beginning to think that I might need a self-help book to help me stop reading self-help books. Go ahead, scoff, but I'm getting worried. Just this weekend, I caught myself scanning the magazines at the supermarket ("Five proven fatigue busters!" "10 foods that actually burn fat!") and -gasp- taking them *seriously*.
Don't get me wrong... I've always been a big believer in learning from others. In business, we call this "best practices" or "lessons learned." Your grandfather calls it, "Well, back when *I* was a boy..." It's just lately I've been getting the impression that the self-help industry is a bit of a con.
For one thing, many of these books provide advice that you really have no chance of taking to heart. French Women Don't Get Fat, for instance, suggests you buy only fresh food and visit the market daily. This is great if you live in Paris and have enough energy to stroll down to the market at the crack of dawn. The only French thing I'm capable of doing when dawn breaks is saying "merde!"
The Four Hour Work Week, meanwhile, would have you stop following the news, or reading or listening to anything that isn't directly relevant to your life at that moment. Come election time, for instance, you shouldn't read about the candidates or their platforms. You should poll your knowledgeable friends and ask their advice. This will work just fine until everyone starts doing it ("Who are you voting for?" "Uh, I dunno, I was going to ask who YOU were voting for!") Goodness knows who we'd end up with in office!
More important though, are the topics that these and other tomes don't cover. For example, how do you, as a Working Parent With Preschoolers, stop yourself from saying things like, "Hickety tickety bumblee bee, will you say your name for me?" when making introductions around the boardroom table?
Where's the chapter in the book "How to be a Landlord for Fun and Profit!" that covers what to do when your tenant vacates and leaves behind a box of improperly cured skunk and racoon pelts?
How about a guide to "How to Call 911 When Your Darling Toddler Accidentally Pokes You in the Eye With a Felt Tip Marker, Leaving you Crying Crayola (r) green vert verde Tears?"
Or what about "Anger Management: How to Control Your Desire to Kick the Living @#$%^&! Out of the #$%! Printer Because It's %^&*! Jammed Aga-"
Ahem. Not speaking from personal experience of course.
Actually, maybe I *should* be speaking from personal experience. Yes, yes, that's it - I've got it now, the way to make a heap of money and leave the rat race behind! I'm going to write my own self-help book.
I think I'll call it, "Canadians Don't Get Tired." Oh, but they do. Okay, what about "Working Parents Get Things Done." No, no, one look at our kitchen and the jig would be up. I could call it "The Forty Hour Work Week." Well, no, that would imply my husband and I knew what that was...
Oh, never mind.
Mail Bag:
God bless you for continuing to make me laugh through your humour!
Sincerely,
Angel Grubb
--
I happened to be reading your latest column while Canada Live on CBC Radio 2 was playing Gustav Holst's The Planets, as performed by the Toronto Symphony Orchestra recently. Andrew Craig introduced their version of the suite by saying that when Pluto was discovered, Holst had no interest in writing a movement for it. Maybe he had a feeling it would be declassified long after he was gone.
Vince
--
I always enjoy reading your columns for a totally different, irreverent, funny & often new view on the world as we know it. Thanks for the snickers!
Lockport, NY
- - - - - - -
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(c) 1997-2007 Chandra K. Clarke
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