Smart Phones Are the New Heroin

This blog is called Cranky Little Old Lady for a reason. I see things that make me cranky. My latest crank rant is about people on their phones. Now before your eyes glaze over and you go "Yes, grandma, how many times we got to hear about people on their phones?", I will point out that until people stop doing inconsiderate, dangerous or just plain stupid things with phones in hand, there will always be other people who point it out. Today is my turn.

We've all seen the parent so engrossed on the phone while their precious toddler is running amuck in a store and clueless parent doesn't give a bee's behind. Or people walking down the sidewalk so busy texting they don't see the oncoming bicycle or the huge dog about to get up in their business. We've seen the videos of people walking into traffic, fountains, lamp posts. And of course we've heard the horrors of drivers killing or being killed while texting and driving. Well, I've got a new one for you.

Big black dog and I walk a regular route most days. And in the last couple of weeks, we keep running into the same situation. Some backstory: If I hear or see someone get into their car, I'll wait until they pull out of the driveway. Why wait you innocently ask? Because people don't look until they've nearly run you over. They are either so sure no one would possibly be walking (what - no car?!), or they honestly can't see for the shrubs, fences and other obstacles in the way. I've just learned that in the interests of safety first, it's easier to wait until they come bombing out their driveway, enjoy the absolute look of shock when they see us standing there, and smile and wave as they sheepishly drive off. I make bets with my big guy on who will wave acknowledgement, who will pretend we don't exist, and who will actually mouth the words "I'm sorry." Now for the latest wrinkle.

One woman gets in her car, starts to back up, and then stops. She's on her phone. The perfect time to scoot past you think. No. Just as you hope she's so absorbed you can go by, she starts to back up again. Ah, you muse. This time is for real. Foiled again. She stops. Fiddles with the phone. At no time has she looked left or right to notice pedestrians or other cars. And she's one of the few who has a clear view of sidewalk and street. You wait some more. And wait. And wait. Just when you're about to brave the attempt to make it past the driveway, she starts up again in earnest. And EVERY SINGLE TIME, she she is shocked - shocked - to see us there. Now you might reasonably think she would get a clue and resist the urge to repeat this behavior. You would be wrong. Like heroin, phones make us feel good. They make us forget that just yesterday, we did something not so smart while we were on them. Or we ignored something or someone we shouldn't have ignored. And like heroin, that feeling lures us back into the glow of the seductive screen. 

I'm not blameless. I nearly never watch TV anymore without phone in hand. I answer texts promptly and I'm a total sucker for the lure of a new incoming email. But I also believe that one should be aware of one's surroundings, and one should certainly put the dime bag of heroin away before putting the car in reverse. 

Pinterest and Other Addictions

I realized the other day that I have a serious addiction. Whether Pinterest found me or the other way around, is not certain. No one can accuse me of being an early adopter for things Internet, though I do try to stay informed of the latest apps, social media sites and all the wailing that surrounds them. In the main, however, mostly I try out what I think is of practical use and pretty much ignore the rest. And then came Pinterest. As the person responsible for my work's social media, I've made a fair stab at Facebook, Twitter and blogging. All pretty straightforward. When it was suggested we open a Pinterest account, I groaned at the idea of more work. Even though I was happy enough strolling through the site for program or craft ideas, it really didn't grab my attention away from the all the other things that called out for immediate action. 

And then, it seduced me. I was looking for a mortar recipe for cementing wine bottles through Google's image search (who here doesn't start out that way?). Those searches kept linking me to Pinterest, and that kept linking me to other Pinterst boards or pins or whatever the heck they're called. As I descended further down the rabbit hole, I told myself what all addicts say, "I can quit at any time." And that must be true - though quitting is not on the list for today. The siren song of flitting from one image to another in rapid succession is just too strong. Discovering another blog of like-minded eco-nuts is simply too tempting. So I set limits: "Only 10 minutes at lunch. " I mutter. "No more than 1/2 an hour after work," I exclaim. And, like most addicts, those limits get blown.

Well, it could be worse I suppose. I could also be addicted to taking pictures of gardens all the time. 

Whoops! Yes - more pictures of gardens.

The garden is still very raw as it is newly planted, but the 2 tortoises with the wind vane as the centerpiece of this front yard was just to good to ignore.

Did I mention I'm a sucker for shiny cobalt blue?

Too bad they aren't ready to pull up the lawn yet,
but making the wonderful border reduces overspray
to almost zero.

This charmer with one ear is the only cat I can keep at my house. He keeps an eye on the front door for us.

And, just in case you're wondering, we still don't have a Pinterest account at work. If we did, I'd never get anything else done all day and that would be very bad. Mmmm....