How Swede It Is

Today, someone I know had a difficult day trying to train a seemingly anencephalic woman to work on the teller line; therefore,  I was compelled to post something I wrote when I was led to believe I could be a columnist.

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Some time ago, we subscribed to the NHL package offered by a major satellite TV provider.  Before the start of one hockey season, I received a “we-know-you’d-love-to-buy-this-too” call from that provider - they wanted me to subscribe to their Sports Pack so that we’d get all kinds of sports from around the planet - Inuit amateur curling, full-contact backgammon from Belize, etc.  Below I have paraphrased the “fun” part of the conversation:

 

Flatch:  Thanks anyway, but we already subscribe to your Center Ice package.

 

Them:   Well, the Sports Pack is more than just football…

 

OK, I’ve never worked at ESPN, and the closest I got to any sport was lugging equipment for my high school ice hockey team and trying to find a calculator big enough to record our losses.  Notwithstanding that, long before I could dial a phone, I knew that “center ice” is a term applicable almost exclusively to ice hockey.  So, after I hung up after the above phone folly, I wondered:  Does anyone think anymore?

 

Let’s reason on this:  These days, many don’t have to think.  Their PCs, a BlackBerry, the Internet and their HDTVs think for them.  When I worked in fast food, we took orders on an paper order pad.  Now, a majority of the counter folks have electronic devices to log the order, add it all up and figure the change to give the customer.  Even with all this technology, how often do you open up your order at home, only to find that all you have is a “Tina’s Tame Tofu” sandwich instead of the “Viper’s Vein-Clogger Venison” burger you really ordered? 

 

It appears to me that the entertainment industry has stopped thinking also.  Old movies being re-worked and re-cast.  Old songs re-done.  The same reality shows with different titles, if even they bother to do that.  Don’t get me started on game shows - on that one network exclusively “for games”, every other show is about poker, blackjack or Celebrity Lingerie Twister from Vegas.  The classic black and white shows I long to see, crafted in vintage imagination, are relegated to the wee hours of each morning, if scheduled at all. 

 

 

By this point, I know what you may be thinking:  “This cat doesn’t know what he’s talking about.”  Be that as it may - congratulations!  At least you’re thinking…