Photogenic Kitty

Vacation

The interwebs once more captures the precise sentiment: sometimes, we would like very much to take a break from being The Responsible Person.

Liz Climo

There aren't enough words to express the quiet joy I have found in the work of Liz Climo. So delightful. So pure. Wonderful. 

https://thelittleworldofliz.com/

Try, Again

One more post on the Try Guys fiasco. 

The remaining Try Guys have spoken; they provided full transparency and honest description of the situation. It was excellent, not only from a public relations point of view, but also a personal point of view. 

Watch the video, and look at their faces: the hurt, the anger, the disappointment. Ned -- how could you? Look at the damage you have caused. See the raw emotions they cannot hide. For shame. 

And why does this bother me so much, as a complete stranger to the situation? 

Perhaps it is because ordinary people (including myself) do difficult things all the time. We change jobs, move states, choose paths that may be harder for us personally but better for the people around us. We take into consideration our families and friends and coworkers in everything we do, even if it is ultimately to our personal detriment. We purposefully abstain from taking action that will harm others. We sacrifice, for the greater good. 

Yet Ned, who had everything as far as we could see -- a loving family, solid friends, a highly successful job he enjoyed, with coworkers who relied on him -- took the selfish, sneaky, dishonest path which would ultimately cause the greatest damage when it came to light. He sacrificed everyone and everything around him for his own personal satisfaction. 

He threw his Important People under the bus of his own desire. And that's unforgivable. 

The lessons therein: don't blow up other people's lives. Do the hard things, like sacrifice your own immediate wants, in order to take action honestly, openly, and properly. Don't be Ned. 

Toast

I love toast. Toast with jam. Cinnamon toast. Toast with just butter. Toast. 

Unfortunately, toast does not love me. I aim for a relatively low-gluten diet to keep IBS in check, so frequent toast is not a good thing. I did find some gluten-free bread and was so delighted: toast is back! 

 Alas: it appears that the gluten-free bread is a migraine inducer. This is why we cannot have nice things. Or at least, nice toast. 

Oh, well. A small slice every now and then will be a special treat.

Ned, You Fool

 Let's talk about the Try Guys. Specifically, about Ned's fall from grace this past week.

(Need a nutshell version of who the Try Guys are, and what happened? Try this link here.)

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I've nonchalantly followed the Try Guys for several years, since their Buzzfeed days. Their videos have always been fairly entertaining. Since they branched away from Buzzfeed, they have expanded significantly into podcasts and several YouTube channels and a line of merchandise. their own rapidly-growing multimedia system. They have seemed unstoppable: a new series on the Food Network, visibility on numerous platforms, and more and more. They have been everywhere. 

Each of the four Try Guys has their own persona which has been carefully cultivated over the years; Try Guy Ned's schtick has always been his married status, with multiple, frequent references to his wife. There is an entire mega-cut on YouTube of just Ned saying in various intonations, "my wife." His wife has appeared in various videos, as have their two tiny children. Ned, the quintessential family man. 

You already know where this is going.

Ned was caught, and has admitted to, a "consensual workplace relationship" with an employee. Oh, no.  Ramifications were swift and brutal: he and the other Try Guys have parted ways. Fired, publicly shamed, ostracized. He is the subject of a seemingly infinite number of TikToks, Instagrams, social media commentary -- his public failure is everywhere. 

So much damage: to the other three Try Guys; to their extremely successful brand; and most of all, to Ned's wife and by extension, his young children.

Ned, you fool. 

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When I was young, the idea of a person cheating on their spouse was uniquely repellent: sleeping with someone-not-one's-spouse was always an unforgivable sin, and I judged accordingly. As I have aged, I have come to understand that lives are incredibly complex; although there are certain choices that I would never make myself, I do nevertheless try to hold a molecule of understanding for individuals who, for various reasons, have fallen to temptation. I judge less. Life is hard. 

For Ned, though, I have absolutely no sympathy. He blew up not only his own life, but the lives of everyone around him. He grievously harmed his business partners, his livelihood, his relationship with his fans as a public figure, and most of all, his family. Publicly, visibly, loudly. For what? For why? 

Perhaps it is the dissonance between his public family-oriented persona and his (previously) private activity, that is the most disturbing. Perhaps it is the sheer volume of harm, rippling outward, that he has caused to other people. Ned has been reminded, in an incredibly painful way, that relationships are not insular. What one does in one arena, has an impact on all aspects of one's life. And on the lives of the people who should be most important. No man is an island. We are all in an archipelago. 

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Time will tell how the Ned-pocalypse shakes out. What is certain, is that numerous lives will never be the same. Perhaps they will be better in the long run, if they move forward with new honesty and humility. Perhaps, too, other people will look at Ned's fall from grace, think more carefully about their own lives, and spare their loved ones a similar tragedy. As the saying goes, if you can't be an example, be a warning. You can be a warning, Ned. 

I am doing my best not to judge Ned. We don't know why people do what we do, in the end. Still, my sympathies are completely with the victims of Ned's shenanigans. I hope for the best for you all. 

Good luck. 

The Peanut Butter Did It

 Because I had a migraine brewing, I wanted to complete a chore that would make me feel productive, yet would not be terribly taxing. I opted to clean out the pantries (the smaller one near the stove, and the larger cupboard-under-the-stairs) and spice drawer in the kitchen: threw away things that were expired, wiped down the shelves, rearranged the remaining items so that we could better see what we have.  It was satisfying. 

I was doing well until the end, when I was checking dates on items in the cupboard-under-the-stairs. There was a jar of peanut butter in there. Creamy peanut butter, because Offspring the Third prefers the smooth texture and I (preferring crunchy peanut butter) do not eat peanut butter any longer since peanuts make me itch. I was reminded about how my Daddy likes to have an apple with peanut butter as part of his lunch, except he likes crunchy peanut butter, too.  

Perhaps it was the incipient migraine. Perhaps it was the thought that there are only so many crunchy peanut butter-and-apple meals left in the world for my Daddy. Either way, I found myself with a lump in my throat. And now I am just... sad. 

Enjoy your lunches, Daddy, for as long as you can.