Hello Surf Reporters! A couple of quick things before we get started today…
First, the pre-order period for the new shirts is coming to an end. At noon on Monday it’s over. If you want one, get your order in, ASAP. The new designs are a thing of beauty, and I don’t want anyone to get shut-out. So, please go to this page and order away. If you have any questions, email me. We’re almost at the end of the line with this thing. Don’t miss out!
Also… prepare yourself for one or two additional emails on this subject. I know it’s super-traumatic to receive emails you don’t want, so maybe this will soften the blow? And here’s a tip I learned years ago from a really smart person: if an email arrives that you’re not interested in, you can highlight it, and (get this!) hit the DELETE button. It’s a little-known hack, which works great! Give it a try.
Yeah, sorry to be so sarcastic… the heat and humidity is taking its toll. It feels like I’m suddenly living inside an industrial steam laundry. Sweet sainted mother of Buddy Garritty!
Oh, and remember how I said I was going to start a new Friday feature this week? Well, it’s getting pushed back. I couldn’t get it together, so we’ll start it next Friday. I think it’ll be fun, but it’s going to be a little labor-intensive on my part. The holiday, and my job (don’t get me started) screwed me up. But we’ll get it going next week. Stay tuned.
And I’m suddenly starving, so I’m going to go to Wendy’s, and will be back shortly.
OK, I’m back. Wendy’s was packed, so I turned around and left in a huff (that’ll show ‘em!). I drove across the street to Moe’s, which was also crowded, but not as bad. I ordered the usual: Joey Bag o’ Donuts burrito, and a soda. In case you’re keeping score at home, here’s what I get on my burrito: chicken, rice, black beans, cheese, corn salsa, sour cream, lettuce, and cilantro. Yum.
I’ve been to Moe’s roughly a million times, and know how things work there. If your purchase is more than $25, they make you sign the credit card slip. Less than that amount, and they just let you swipe your card, with no signature necessary. However, today I noticed they were making everybody sign. And when it was my turn, I saw that there was a big ol’ TIP section they wanted me to fill in. And the smiling, well-scrubbed cashier was standing right there. It’s extortion!
I’m a good tipper. In fact, Toney says too good. But I’m not tipping at a counter. If somebody brings the food to my table, that’s different. Hell, they don’t even pour your drink for you, at Moe’s. They just hand you a cup. So, what am I tipping for? It’s the exact same situation at the Chinese place – the Rose and the Overshoe, or whatever it’s called. They apparently expect a tip for carryout. Funk dat.
Am I wrong about this? Where do you draw the line on tipping? I used to tip the dry cleaning people, back during my hellish corporate whore days in California. So, it’s not really the counter, it’s something else. Please help me understand. Where do you draw the line on tipping, and why?
Yesterday Toney got irritated with me, because we were watching Wimbledon and some girl was talking with the creaking door voice. Whenever I’m exposed to that horrible sound, I have to imitate it. There is no fighting the urge, it must be done. It’s ironic, I know. I hate the creaking door voice, but whenever I hear it I have to speak that way for at least 30 minutes.
Finally, Toney snapped and screamed, “Stop it! I can’t take it anymore!!”
I’ve been complaining about the creaking door abomination for possibly a decade, and about two years ago others started to join me. I was way ahead of the agitation curve, as usual. The johnny-come-latelies call it “vocal fry,” for some reason. Maybe it’s a real term, used by voice coaches or something? I’m not clear on it, but prefer “creaking door voice.”
Every night while I’m driving home from work, I hear a public service announcement on the radio. It’s supposed to be three parents chatting in a park, while their kids are off playing. They say things like, “Did you know that babies born in the winter are preferred by cannibals, ten to one?” Something like that… I’m paraphrasing.
But at one point somebody makes one of those “Did you know” statements, and a woman answers, “Everybody knows that.” And it’s full-on creaking door. Usually the creaking is at the end of a sentence, but this woman takes it from the front to the back. Here’s my imitation of her, and an audio glimpse of the thing that causes occasional marital problems at my house.
I’ve heard that commercial a hundred times, and brace for that croaky bitch. And it still makes me grimace, every time.
What’s the story?! Why do so many young girls speak that way? How’d it get started? If they ever invent time travel, I’m going to go back and find the source – Patient Zero – and somehow eliminate the scourge.
I’m not completely immune to it, but I generally hate when people indulge in monkey-see, monkey-do linguistic behavior. Like “Really?!” That pisses me off. Five years ago nobody said it, and now everybody does. And when we lived in Atlanta there was a period of about three years when the entire world seemed to start sentences with “You know what?”
“What kind of soda do you want?”
“You know what? I’ll have a Dr. Pepper.”
Another semi-new one that makes me cringe: “Wait for it!” Suck a dick.
What are your thoughts on this subject? Do you notice the creaking door voice as much as I do? Do you think it’s starting to go away? I don’t see any evidence of it, but keep hoping. Also, what trendy little phrases and words have you noticed creeping into peoples’ speech? I live in Scranton, so it takes a while to reach us. What should I be on the lookout for?
And that’s gonna do it for today, my friends. Order your shirts! I want to place one order, and keep it simple. I’ll remove the PayPal links around noon on Monday. So, play it safe and order today.
Have a great weekend.
See you again soon!