LIFE IS AN OPEN BOOK

Mark Zuckerberg, the founder of Facebook has a mission. He wants to change the world, so it will become a more open place. That doesn’t necessarily mean a better place, it just means more open. Facebook is, of course, a platform for human behavior. That’s exactly why I won’t join. The last platform I used was a high diving board when I was 12 years old, and I scraped my nose on the bottom of the swimming pool.

The world is so open now that no one has any privacy---nor do they seem to want it. Dinosaurs were the last private creatures. That’s why no one knows what happened to them, and they ain’t telling!

Reality shows on television are certainly open places where the exhibitionists among us let it all hang out---sometimes literally. But of course, these shows would not be so successful if their openness didn’t appeal to the voyeurs among us. I guess it’s something like slowing down to gawk at a car wreck at the side of the road. You hope that no one got hurt, but you can’t help being curious about the people who are involved. I am not sure that is the case with those who enjoy NASCAR races.

So it is with Facebook. Kids share their secrets with hundreds of their best friends, and grandmas check to see what their grandchildren are sharing. Granted, Facebook has some educational value. One man has a page where he teaches people how to tie a necktie. He now has 6 million viewers, and he does it fully dressed.

Entertainers, politicians and the rich and famous can no longer hope for privacy, and the most intimate aspects of their lives are fair game. Heaven help the vegetarian celebrity who gets caught on camera pigging out with a ham sandwich. Newscasters will report endlessly on her admittance to the Hog Heaven Rehab Facility and her struggle with hindquarter withdrawal.

All of this openness has led average folks to think they have the license to ask personal questions of anyone, and they think they are entitled to answers. I am blessed to come from a heritage where one often answers a question with another question. So here’s my advice. When someone expects you to tell it all, just stare at him and say, “Why in the world would I want to talk about that with you?”

Esther Blumenfeld (slamming the privacy door shut)

GOOD MORNING

Scientists have come up with a fancy term, “Relational Diversity” which predicts well being after sharing brief pleasant exchanges (small talk) with people.  Gillian Sandstorm, a researcher on the benefits of casual interaction says, “Although many of us hate small talk, the more you do it, the more natural it will feel.”

In my play, HERE AND THERE (Detroit Repertory Theatre, 12/28/2003) I wrote a brief interchange between a mother and her son, Josh— adapting it from an actual conversation I had with my own son.

            Josh
Mom, this time when you come to New York and we ride the subway, please don’t talk to people.
            Becca
What do you mean, don’t talk to people?
            Josh
It’s New York. You get on the subway. You get off the subway. You don’t talk to people.
            Becca,
Well, last time that old lady wanted to give me a bite of her sandwich.
            Josh
And I was afraid you were going to take it.
            Becca
You mean I don’t get to practice my Spanish? Donde esta el coche comedor?
            Josh
No, not Spanish, not English. People in New York don’t talk. Don’t even make eye contact. You think I’m kidding? There was an article in the TIMES about a corpse that rode the train at rush hour. The guy rode for 45 minutes, and 20 stops, before anyone told the police.
            Becca
Obviously, nobody made eye contact with him.

So, how does one develop the skill to share a brief pleasant exchange with even a relative stranger? First of all, you can say, “Good Morning.”  However, if the other person says, “How Are You?” my friend Lynn always says, “Compared to Who?” It’s called, shared reality.

Recently, someone told me that Himalayan Salt will cure leg cramps.  I went to “Trader Joes” and asked the young clerk if they carried, Himalayan Salt. He said, “Oh, Yes, my mother uses it for leg cramps.” Free corroborating information from small talk with a stranger. (And, Yes, it works!)

When visiting with an aunt in Buffalo, New York we saw an elderly lady, obviously dressed for church,  waiting at the bus stop. My aunt said to her, “Oh, you look so nice!” The lady hugged her, and she had tears in her eyes. She said, “Thank you so much! I really needed that!”

When talking to people you don’t know too well, it’s a good idea to avoid small talk about religion or politics or other sensitive matters. Waiting for my son in an orthodontist’s office, I saw a woman I had briefly met who was also waiting for her offspring. For some reason, she thought it okay to say something disparaging about an African American woman and her child who had just left the office. I said, “You are a Bigot!  Don’t talk to me!” Sometimes, small talk isn’t all that small after all.

Invariably, people will say to me,”You don’t look your age.” I now respond, “It’s the Genie in the bottle.” (Hair—not Scotch).

I think that young people miss out when they only communicate by smart phone or computers. I find it depressing, and often so do they. Communicating by thumbs is self-inflicted solitary confinement.  Also, making friends takes real person to person communication without a machine to intervene.

Small talk can break the ice, but be mindful how you use it. It’s better to start a conversation by saying, “Good Morning. You have such a nice smile”— rather than— “Good Morning.” Are those your real teeth?”

Esther Blumenfeld

      

WHO WROTE THAT?

After sending her some jokes that I had written, Phyllis Diller wanted more. She particularly liked the one where I wrote: “Zip Lock Bags. That’s what they used to call the Good Girls.”
However, what she paid barely covered the postage.  At that, I decided that as a professional  humor writer, not only did I want credit for what I wrote, but my work would never be cheap—better free than cheap.

A long-time speech writer for the Chairman of the Board of a large company asked for a raise. The Chairman said, “You are making enough money. I’m not giving you a raise.” A week later the Chairman was to deliver his yearly speech in front of hundreds of his employees. He stepped up to the dais, opened his speech portfolio, and read: “You are on your own— You S.O.B.” Historically, writers have been unfairly treated, even though everything you read has been written by someone— including the instructions on your medicine bottle.

By now, most of you are aware of the writer’s strike which involves 11,000 film, TV, news, radio and online writers. What they want is a stable pay structure as well as fairer deals that include residuals from streaming— as well as contract provisions for Artificial Intelligence (AI).

The 2023 Writer’s Strike is the first one since that last strike in 2007, when having writers on strike opened the door for TV Reality Shows such as “The Apprentice.” They were cheap since they didn’t need actors or writers. So, now, 600 Reality Shows have made it to TV.  In the 1960’s FCC Chairman, Newton Minnow said, “Television is a Vast Wasteland.” Now much of it has become a garbage dump with shows like, “The Housewives of Wherever” who shout at each other and expose their most intimate selves to millions of viewers.  Also, I know about the actors in the popular show, “Downton Abbey,”  but I am not familiar with the folks in “Duck  Dynasty, or those people who appear in “Pawn Stars” or “Dr. Pimple Popper.”

Years ago, Sid Caesar’s “Show of Shows” probably had the best stable of writers ever gathered in one place. They included Mel Brooks who went on as a performer as well as  writing and producing movies and plays. Neil Simon, the famous playwright, Larry Gelbart, (remember Mash and Mary Tyler Moore?) Carl Reiner, Woody Allen and many others.
Most comedians could not survive without their writers, and few are as spontaneous as Robin Williams. Bob Hope was a good guy, but he needed his writers…so it is rumored.

I had one experience writing for someone else. The first lesson is that when your words are coming out of someone else’s mouth, the words have to fit that person.  I like getting credit for my work, and did not especially want to write a funny speech for a big-wig from New Jersey who lived in Atlanta. When he approached me, I told him that I don’t do ghost writing, but he persisted. He finally said, “If you would do this, what would you charge?”  I thought if I quoted him an exorbitant amount, he’d finally back off.  No such luck. I was stuck. However, I did stipulate that before he delivered the speech, I would have to listen to it, so it would fit his personality.  

The speech was written, and he began to read it to me. He started by saying, “Haa, There, Ya’All.” I said, “What are you doing?”  He said, “I thought I should give this talk with a Southern  Accent.” Horrified, I said, “Whatever you do—DON’T DO THAT!” I took the money and ran. I never did hear him give that speech in front of an audience, but it was the one time, I was glad not to get the credit.

So, the next time you read something, even directions on a box on how to build something, be sure to have a bit of respect for the writer—unless a screw is missing and the directions are in Chinese.

Esther Blumenfeld

NAP TIME

I recently read an article about a study, where researchers reported that cooling the brain may help insomniacs fall asleep. They found that a specially designed cap, that circulates cold water, slows down activity in the frontal cortex and helps to promote sleep.

Some of my friends have insomnia. One woman I know dozes while watching television, and every night, she awakens just in time to get ready for bed. I, on the other hand, fall asleep the moment my head hits the pillow, and I don’t wake up until the summer sun shines into my window at 5 a.m. Then I wake up hungry and ready to go hiking.

I once bragged, “I sleep like a log because I don’t have a guilty conscience.” Whereupon, a friend wryly replied, “Or no conscience at all.” Getting up at 5 a.m. does have its drawbacks, because at 1p.m. I have been up for 8 hours and need a nap. However, sometimes that doesn’t work out. So consequently I find myself dozing at inopportune times.

A boring lecture or inordinately long sermon puts me to sleep. I learned in college to sleep with my eyes open, but stopped doing it when they handed me my diploma. In the olden days, congregational ushers used to walk up and down the aisles to awaken snoozing congregants with the touch of a feather. Once I fall asleep, they’d have to hit me over the head with the entire chicken.

Oddly, there are times when my body rejects methods of artificial sleep. One shot of Novocain will never numb my tooth. Two shots of Novocain will never numb that tooth. I don’t know where the stuff goes, but when my toes get numb, the dentist knows he can start to drill.

Some people have tricks they use to fall asleep, such as counting backwards. I would NEVER do that, because I’d be afraid that I’d wake up with my gall bladder missing. I usually don’t sleep on airplanes, because I want to be alert when the flight attendants come barreling down the aisle, so they won’t run over my foot. However, on a long flight to China, against my better judgment, I did fall asleep. When the flight attendant shouted, “You want a drink?” I awakened and screamed, “Oh, My God!” and hit my head on the side of her cart.

My dreams must be very dull because I rarely remember them. So “To sleep, perchance to dream” doesn’t mean a damn thing to me. My in-laws had an oxymoronic sleeper sofa with a broken spring. It was like starring in a horror movie, ”Turn over and you are impaled.” That can definitely cause insomnia.

Esther Blumenfeld (“Oh, sleep, it is a gentle thing.” Coleridge)

SOOTHSAYING

Fortune tellers in Romania are not only being taxed, but authorities are now proposing a new bill that threatens fines or prison if their predictions don’t come true. In this economy there’s even a hex on witchcraft.

Recently, I declined an invitation to a philanthropic event that featured a psychic as entertainment. The woman who answered my telephone call said, “This man can tell you the name of any song you have playing in your head.”  I replied, “If he’s that good, he already knows I’m not coming. Besides, why do I want someone to tell me what tune is in my head when I already know?”

Obviously, I’m not big on mumbo jumbo. Some people swear by divination. I can wait 24 hours for tomorrow to arrive with all of its surprises, but there are those Nostradamus folks who want to predict the future in order to avoid the pratfalls in their path, or to be able to say, “See, I told you so.”

I admit that on occasion I have a taste for a fortune cookie, because the message is always cheery and I can eat the messenger, but I don’t take these little messages to heart.

For those who yearn to delve into the spooky, here are some specialties that might appeal to you, if you can find these folks:

Onychmancy:  Reading the future from reflections in a Virgin’s oiled fingernails. In the 21st Century, this may prove difficult. Never met a woman with oily fingernails.
Haruspex: Reader of entrails. You might want to ask your broker about this one.
Kephalonomancy: Tell the future from listening to the crackling made by burning a donkey’s head. PETA would object.
Hydromancy: It has to do with swirling waves and other wet activities, but the practitioners are a “reclusive lot.” This is probably because they have their heads under water.
Rumpology: This involves predictions by reading the lines on buttocks.  Certainly, there are some of those around.
Uromancy: Divination by reading bubbles made by urinating into a pot. This might work for toddlers.

Truth is absolutely stranger than fiction. Here is my advice: If you don’t like what your Horoscope tells you, pick another month. Enjoy the tea, and throw out the leaves, and if anyone reads your palm, use a hand sanitizer.

Esther Blumenfeld (Chinese Fire Rat)