Can't Work When I Got No Internet

That's been the message on my computer for most of the last 24 hours. Outside of the weird little window I had last night to drop Albert into your life once again, the damn Internet has been on the fritz.

Pretty hard to keep up a following as an Internet writer when you can't connect for more than two minutes at a time.

Count this as another reason moving to a bigger center makes so much sense. A man needs better Internet service.

We've gotten smashed by thunderstorms the last couple days and went through a two hour power outage yesterday as well. Clearly, those kind of things affect Internet connectivity and you would think that the people in charge of the buildings here would recognize something like that.

You would think that, wouldn't you?

Nope, not the case here. Despite his having come and gone already this morning, I had to call the Building Maintenance guy and get him to come up and reset the modem for me, you know, so I could do a little work and stop playing Undisputed.

Wouldn't you know it - one little reset and we're up and running.

I wonder if he'll remember that after the thunderstorms we're supposed to get later today?

Probably not... that's why I have his number on speed dial.

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Soapbox Spencer: Young Bloggers

When I sat down this morning to eat my breakfast (two pieces of toast with peanut butter and a glass of Bolthouse Farms Mocha Cappuccino in case you were wondering) an article entitled "Young bloggers prompt safety worries" obviously caught my attention.

I barely made it to the second column of the article before I knew what I would be writing about here today.

The article - if you chose not to read it yourself before proceeding here - talks about young girls and the concerns that parents and social watchdogs have over the content they post on their blogs, citing two younger females interested in fashion who post pictures of themselves in their designs on their blogs, Style Rookie and The Fashion Void That Is DC.

In the AP article, they question the safety of Tavi Gevinson, the 12-year-old blogger cum fashion designer responsible for Style Rookie, posting pictures of herself in her creations, what with all the pervy bastards out there and all.

While I completely agree that there are a lot of pervy bastards out there who could potentially find a 12-year-old in homemade designs appealing, it's some of the choice quotes from the piece that had me seething.

Parry Aftab, a lawyer who heads the online protection site WiredSafety.org delivers this gem:

Parents have no idea what their kids are doing online. Most parents have no idea what a blog is.

Uh, isn't it your job as a parent to know what your kid is doing?

Maybe it's just me, but I'm pretty sure if my kids (when I have them) are spending copious amounts of time hunkered down in front of the computer, I'm going to be spending copious amounts of time hunkered down in front of the computer seeing what they're up to.

In contrast, Tavi's dad Steve, a high-school English teacher, had no clue what his daughter was up to until she was asked to be in a New York Times magazine story about blogging. He was generous enough to drop the Parent of the Year Award Winning "I wasn't terribly interested in seeing it."

Can we please give Steve Gevinson a round of applause? Way to go, Steve... douchebag!

I know times are different now with single parent homes and both parents working and blah blah blah blah blah, but taking an active role in your kids lives is one of those absolutes of parenting, no? You can't pawn off the fact that you have no idea what your kids are into and up to because you worked a long day at the office. Suck it up and be involved.

Quality Quote #2 comes from Addie Swartz, CEO of B-tween Productions and mother of two teenage daughters, who said, "I feel that it's not safe to have a child who's 12 or 13 have a blog."

Dear Ms. Swartz,

Below is a brief list of things far more potentially dangerous than a 12 or 13 year old having a blog:

Knives, guns, sharks, bears, second-hand smoke, cars, that bottle of drain cleaner under your sink, fast food, UV Rays, Anderson Silva, coming across the middle on Brian Urlacher, anything attempted by the cast of Jackass, listening to Celine Dion for excessive amounts of time, shopping on Christmas Eve and naming your child Hubert or Edna.

Need I continue?

Kindest Regards,
Spencer

It's a blog for chrissakes!

If you're involved in the kid's life, raise them to know what is acceptable and not acceptable, talk with them intelligently about things of this nature and monitor their posts, what is the problem?

You do your job to make sure they aren't posting scantily clad pictures or telling the world that you and the mister head out of town every third weekend leaving them all alone in the house and your fears are quashed.

I know kids are always going to do things behind their parents backs - it's part of being a kid - but I also know that telling them things they can't do only makes them do it more, while explaining why something isn't allowed builds understanding and acceptance, even when it's coupled with the requisite "I Hate You," "You're SO Mean," or "Janie's Mom Let's Her Do It!"

And why doesn't Ms. Swartz think it's safe for tween-age girls to have blogs? The potential negative comments they might receive, what with girls being so impressionable, especially in that age group.

Hi Addie,

It's Spencer again.

Do you honestly believe that negative comments are restricted to blogs and the Internet?

Kids sling negativity everywhere - at school, in extra-curricular activities, sports teams, the mall - not just on these ever-so-harmful blogs you're worried about and this is coming from a guy who receives numerous comments a month slagging me and my existence in this world.

Besides, if you take my advice from Letter #1, you shouldn't really have any serious concerns on this front, since you'll be monitoring the situation and able to discuss any nasty comments with your kids up front.

Keep in touch,
Spencer

The bottom line, at least to me, is this:

Work with your children so that they know what is acceptable and what isn't acceptable.

Be involved in their lives, regardless of how busy your own is and how much you don't have an interest in fashion design, Yu-Gi-Oh or whatever else they are into.

Monitor their activities - they are your kids and your responsibility. If you know what they are doing, you just might be able to eliminate some harm before it ever happens.

Remember that you were a kid once too and despite all the mean and horrible things some people undoubtedly said to you on the phone, playground or walking down the street, you turned out okay... you're kids will too.

* * * * * * * * * *
That's what I got. Lemme know what you think.

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Honestly?

It takes a lot to make me cringe these days.

Not that I have some sort of insane tolerance for things, but let's face it: in the world we live in with media coverage of pretty much everything, the Internet providing access to whatever sick, twisted and depraved material people are searching for, I'm just generally never surprised at the things that people are into any more.

Why am I telling you this?

Well, I got an email today and it made me cringe. Please note: I didn't even open the message.

I have a friend who sends out roughly 963 emails a week, generally from one of two categories: twisted shit (accidents, violence, etc.) or porn. And ladies, you're in luck, he's single!

Anyway, most of the time I simply delete anything he sends me because I'm not a nearly 40-year-old guy who doesn't realize that the people I email can just as easily access porn as I do without flooding their inbox with boobs on a daily basis.

Clicking around, I heard that familiar ping signaling a new message and went to check it out. It was from this friend. Let's call him Bas.

Anyway, Bas' latest forward to me - The Police Scanner audio from the Greyhound Bus decapitation.

Who in the fuck wants to listen to that? I sure don't.

The thing that gets me about messages like this is what goes through someone's head before they (a) listen to the thing themselves and (b) decide it's something they need to send to everyone they know.

Personally, hearing people undoubtedly screaming in horror during an incredibly horrific event isn't my cup of tea. If it's yours, I don't know if we can be friends.

It's like the premise of the movie Untraceable, where the more people that log onto a website the faster the victim dies. Me, I'm never logging onto that website because I'm not one for watching someone die. In this case, the same goes for hearing it.

Somebody has violently lost their life.

A family has lost one of it's members.

Lives have been eternally changed.

And I've got some douchebag friend that is flipping the audio of the whole thing to everyone he knows.

Maybe you think about that before you hit that "Send" button next time...

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Searching for a Porn-ucopia

Not me: I have the Internet. All the porn I could ever ask for is only a mouse click away. If I ever wanted to look at porn....

No, this is the story of quite possibly the funniest customer interaction I've had in my lifetime working in the Customer Service industry. And I've been involved in some weird shit in working the casino and in bars over the years, but this trumps them all.

Last night, sometime around 10:30, a middle aged (read: 40's) guy comes into Blockbuster, doeas a quick glance around the store from just inside the door, turns to me behind the counter and asks, "You have an Adult Section?"

This is not an uncommon occurrence. We get lots of people asking if we carry porn. We don't, other than some softcore stuff like Married People, Single Sex Volumes 1-3 and a few artsy films that use that banner as a means of putting out naughtier stuff than the Playboy Channel.

"No, sorry man," was my reply, just as it always is. My usual choking back a laugh occurred too. What can I say, I find it amusing that people (1) still rent porn and (2) think that Blockbuster is going to have a back room full of it.

"D'you know anywhere I can get some?" the would-be viewer asked.

"Yep, right across the street. Jumbo," I answered, instructing the porn-seeking gentlemen to shop with our competition at Jumbo Video.

"D'you know anywhere else? The selection they have over there sucks."

Stifling a laugh, I managed to get the words, "No. Sorry, I don't," out as the disheartened porn hunter left the store. Then I died laughing.

Answer me this: At what point do you stop driving around town looking for porn, especially when you've located an establishment from where you can procure the object of your desires?

11:00 at night? Midnight? Never?

Do drunks go bar to bar asking what kind of whiskey is on the shelf, only to leave when they find out they're only serving CC?

"Swill... I may be a drunk in need of a drink, but I won't drink that piss!"

Somehow, I think not.

I can just picture this guy driving around town in an effort to find Bad Babysitters 7 because Jumbo's choices of Bad Babysitters 2: Even Badder and Asian Heat 52 wasn't quite good enough.

And what determines a quality porn selection anyway?

I know everyone has the things that they're into, but at a certain point, porn is porn. The end result is the same, just how the "actors" get to that point is different. So too might be the outfits, locations, horrible dialog (if any) and ethnicity of the female cast. But at 10:30 - 11:00 at night, do you really need to be picky with your porn?

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