A shaky soap box

My original intent as anyone who has read any of my inane blogs knows was to impart to my children events that occurred in my life, also perhaps a little wisdom. The reason of course as a father I was inept in that regard. I have tried to be truthful with the actual events As far as wisdom goes they are all a hell of a lot sharper them me. So I am sure they take my meandering thoughts with a grain of salt. In each tale I tried to inject a little humor. Knowing full well that my sense of humor is somewhat warped. But in this blog I am going to climb up on a soap box and take a somewhat different approach. As I try to get philosophical about some things that are discouraging to me. Respect is what seems to me is the word, I am searching for. It also may be courtesy or just common sense. All of which seems to be missing in this electronic age we live in. The gist of my problem is I am an alien in cyber space. The different devices and the keeping up with the Joneses mentality are frustrating in many respects. The fact that I am inept at everything that evolves electronic devises, compounds my dilemma. My first bitch will be facebook. When I first signed on as a member of this site, I was enthused. I thought what a great concept. A chance to interact with distant relatives, old school mates and other interesting people I have known over the years. A place to post photos, relate family news and express an opinion on something that might interest or alarm you.
Now my enthusiasm for this site has waned considerably. When I sign off now I wonder why I bother to return. What I express next is not a shot at all my facebook acquaintances (friends) about forty percent of them post interesting respectful insights. The other sixty percent reflect society as it is today in my opinion. Disrespectful to the point of malice. When I was a kid we were taught to be respectful to our elders and people of authority. When I went into military service I was trained to salute officers. Not the individual, but for what their commission stood for. I am absolutely appalled by the slanderous disrespect my so called facebook friends so gleefully post about their commander-in-chief. I am all for people posting their feelings on all subjects. But I feel it can be done respectfully. Most of the things people so spitefully infer would d get you kicked off of their friend list if you posted something viciously untrue about them or one of their own. I feel like everywhere I turn people are only happy if something bad happens to the president or the country. I am not tub thumping for Obama. I feel that he has probably made as many mistakes as the man who preceded him. But he does deserve the respect of his office.
The facebook friends I am talking about rarely pass on a thought that is their own. They mostly just pass on cruel propaganda. This somehow reminds you of the kids in the school yard who just stood around and watched as some sneering bully made life miserable for some poor soul who had the gall to be different. So if I am profiling so be it. When the holy rollers come around knocking on doors, I pretend like I am not home. With which I segue into my second facebook bitch. .Those who feels it is their duty to insult what little intelligence I have by smugly spouting scripture to my evil hopelessly lost soul. That too is disrespect for others. So I guess my only recourse is to shy away from facebook like I do the canvassing neighborhood bible thumpers. It’s hard enough to have to endure bigotry with out seeking it out in what is considered a social media. I probably should start using the only part of electronic devices that I feel comfortably able to manage, the shut down icon.
My third gripe is my futile attempts to reach any one I have business or medical connections with by telephone. After glancing over my shoulder to make sure no one is watching or listening to me talk to a recording. I proudly submit that yes I do speak English, and then after I fend of a long list of options that no sane person would opt for, the recording gleefully invites me to start the same process all over again. Of course this strategy is a well thought out ploy to get me to hang up. How can you as a customer or a patient dare to have the nerve to expect to get any kind of service or courtesy?
Finally I figure out how to talk to an actual being. Sometimes it is as simple as hitting O for operator or simply slamming the phone against the wall or my head. As a rule I usually use which ever is closest. Now they really start to crap all over my sensibilities when they connect me to a slurring alien who certainly was not asked to press one if he or she could speak English. Now I am talking to someone in some remote part of India, he actually acts insulted when you have the nerve to tell him you do not understand a word he is saying. When you ask to speak to his supervisor or perhaps some one who might have any idea of what you are asking. He promptly agrees and puts you on hold. Of course after a pregnant pause another recording tells you to hang up and try redialing. Or if the phone company is having a bad day, just an irritating busy signal.
As an aside I have to say “hats of to Prudential life” they have some how managed to make their web site even more convoluted than their phone system. It just goes to show you that insurance company’s are still always one step ahead of every one else when it comes to indifference. So I show my age when I say, I remember when you dialed a business number and a cheery voice said “Hello, how may I help you”
So as I delve further into my electronic insecurities my next gripe pertains to a plumbing problem I have. Well actually I have two plumbing problems, but the physical lament I will put aside for another day. I had a hot water pipe spring a leak. A plumber made a temporary repair and promised to return and rectify my problem. Needless to say he like most professional people overbook at every chance they get, as they all fear that congress is hell bent on creating another recession. So his office like all businesses answers the phone with a recording that announces that they are way to busy to talk to you. But if you leave your name, telephone number and address with a brief summation as why you would have nerve enough to bother them. They will get back to you. After you try calling them back three or four times in the next week or so, you start wondering did I screw this up. Did I jump the beep? Or did I wait to long after the beep? Was I supposed to hit the pound key when I was through with my message? But off course the message is there. It just does not seem like a priority to them and like the facebook sixty percent a total lack of courtesy and disrespect is accepted as the norm.
My last bit of electronic frustration is my failure to master the computer key board. How I can have my words jump to any anyplace they want is beyond me. Sometimes I will glance at the monitor and what I thought I typed is no where to be found. And other times when I look up I see the words have some how just inserted them selves randomly in a completely different paragraph. This off course makes my task quite tedious. But unlike the mysteries of my other gripes, I know what my problem with the keyboard is. I am over extending myself by trying to type and think at the same time.
My final shame is that every month after I have paid my TV ransom to Comcast. I realize that one of the big trees that hang over my house must be a Chestnut because that is certainly where the village idiot sits.

So after this bombastic spiel, I climb down off of my shaky soap box.