Illustration by Jan A. Igoe
As we cross into 2021, it’s not so much about welcoming a new year than celebrating the demise of the old, icky one, with its political contortions, social unrest, murder wasps and deadly pandemics. Don’t let the door hit you on the way out, 2020.
Since my personal New Year’s resolutions usually crumble before Groundhog Day, I’ve made a few for everybody else so this year will go better than the last one. As you know, the bar wasn’t set too high.
Getting rid of stuff
Whether you’re selling your grandmother’s mahogany dresser or rehoming your kid’s Xbox, let’s drop the “Serious inquiries only” language. Of course, you want qualified buyers and would only waste time with tire-kickers. But here’s a newsflash: Buyers don’t know how serious they are until you tell them the price of grandma’s dresser is $17,899 and they have to pick it up from her fifth-floor walk-up. That’s when they discover they weren’t serious. Were you?
Free food lectures
Say you wear size XS (extra scrawny) and have advanced degrees in nutrition, dietetics and clinical counseling, so clients don’t mind paying big bucks for your expertise. However, when you spot a stranger stuffing herself with fried Twinkies and a 1,320-calorie Oreo mocha fudge Blizzard, don’t help. Your resolution is not to ruin anybody else’s food fantasy. You don’t want the boutiques to run out of your size anyway, right?
Man or machine
Before granting access, websites want proof that we are human. My computer, the one that already knows all my social media preferences, passwords, best friend from first grade and the day my goldfish died, won’t vouch for me, so CAPTCHA makes me identify photos of trains or planes from a bunch of random images to prove it. Pick an elephant or miss one lousy locomotive and the website SWAT team moves in. I’m human, alright? You made me pick planes three minutes ago—the Northrop YB-49, a B-52 and Snoopy’s doghouse. (I wasn’t sure about the zeppelin.) So I’m human. Possibly a dumb human, but still human. Would a bot be screaming at the top of her lungs and punching you in the screen? So stick that in your 250-gig memory and stop with the CAPTCHA thing. Do not make me call Snoopy for air support.
Page lickers
I didn’t like trading germs before the pandemic, but now, watching someone lick their index finger to turn a page makes me gag. If the book belongs to you, by all means, slime away. But in a library, where other people share printed material, should we be swapping spit? Let’s do the math. If a book printed in 2001 has three finger-lickers turning its pages six days a week, that’s 73,642,841 personal germs per page (give or take). That poor book could have drowned by now. This year, there will be no sticky fingers in libraries or bookstores. Wear gloves and promise to keep your fingers six feet apart.
Dissing loyal customers
So you’ve got a special offer? A free iPhone with purchase? A lifetime supply of air freshener for new customers? Wait a minute. What about the schmoes that have been paying you on time for 18 years? What do we get? The corporate marketing wizards had a six-hour meeting to decide we get nothing?
Hmm. Let’s say we stop paying you and ignore a few delinquent notices. We’ll let you cancel our accounts so we can return as brand-new customers. Your resolution should have been to treat us like the royalty we are. Meanwhile, I’d prefer my iPhone 12 in that nice blue-green color.
Happy New Year.
Jan A. Igoe hopes that 2021 will be a great year for everyone. We’ve probably run out of apocalyptical stuff, so that’s a good start. Ideas and comments are always welcome at HumorMe@SCLiving.coop.