'The pattern is full, Kenneth.'

This was a week of overlooked and unexpected things, not the least of which was how all of us have undervalued the utility of Rebecca Black’s single as it relates to teaching the order of the days for those learning English as a second language. It was also the week where once again we learned why mommie bloggers rarely continue on after their children reach school age. This past Thursday (i.e. yesterday was Thursday, Thursday, oo-ooh-ooh, hoo yeah, yeah yeah, yeah yeah-ah-ah) the point was driven home again. While it might pithy and amusing for a mommie blogger to run out a few hundred words on why Lil’ Iodine won’t poop, it’s something else entirely when Dr. Random walks through the door and announces, “I got on the waiting list for potassium iodide at the vitamin store!”
YMMV.
Therefore it’s little wonder why I have to distract the boy with things like this.

Not that it’s an easy path to take.
Imagine how I felt when he asked, “I don’t get Norman Mailer, do you?”
You’re free to take that on one and if time permits next week I’ll talk about how everybody hates Mom.

Natalie Portman? What would you like to know?

 “Most recently I wrote about my interactions with PR people who wanted to send me photos of Lou Diamond Phillips holding water, and of Selma Blair wearing a scarf.  (This is all true). I still get these emails daily and my plan is to get a picture of you collating paper so that when they offer me a picture of ‘Harry Connick Jr. standing next to yarn’ I can say ‘Thanks.  Here’s a picture of Wil Wheaton collating paper’ and then they’ll be like ‘Um…why would I want a picture of Wil Wheaton collating paper?’ and I can be like, ‘EXACTLY.’  It wouldn’t actually stop PR people from emailing me thousands of pictures of people-with-things but I’d at least feel better about it.” The Bloggess
At last weekend’s Emerald City ComicCon two young ladies who looked to more or less the same age as Dr. Random ran up to a guy standing in front of me. They were very excited, they’d just gotten Wil Wheaton’s autograph. “Dad! He was soooooo nice! Oh and Dad, he talked to us for like five minutes!” The upshot of the conversation is that the gals were over the moon as Mr. Wheaton made them feel like they were the only people in the whole wide world. (The irony of course was that this took place in the line to get into see William Shatner, who spent the better part of an hour making about 500 people feel like he was the only person in the world.) Also it should be noted that unlike his former co-stars, Data and Commander Riker, who were also guest speakers at ECCC, he did not charge for either his autograph or his time. Therefore it should come as no surprise that Mr.Wheaton was quick to send The Bloggess a photo of himself collating papers.
So let me say quickly that Wil Wheaton deserve a prize for being Wil Wheaton, a good guy, then we’re off to the races.
The collating papers thing hit home as it was something of a relief to find out we’re not the only ones inundated with bizarre p-r missives. For the better part of two years we have received – wholly unsolicited – amazingly detailed descriptions of Natalie Portman’s nightly whereabouts and what she was wearing. Had we bothered to save and compile all the emails involved we would currently posses a body of information that would embarrass even her most ardent stalkers.
So why is that?
Public relations folk are not unlike a man going door to door with a bucket of water. He knocks or rings the bell and asks, “Is your house on fire? I have a bucket of water!” Then when he’s told ‘No” he moves on up the street to the next house while ignoring more prudent approaches such as looking for smoke, flames, or fire trucks. The mystery is in how that approach evolved and why they are so enamored of it – was it trial and error, hard learned experience, or simply self hypnosis?
Who knows?
One-on-one meetings with them certainly don’t provide and answer. Most of the ones I encounter are always representing a restaurant. Invariably they set up a meeting or phone call after first learning my name and then using it like a cudgel against me. What follows is a sing songy recitation of the eatery’s many virtues leading up to the big talking point that this place’s swank won’t melt in your mouth. But that’s assuming I let it get that far. Most of the time I find these conversations can be brought to an abrupt halt with this simple phrase, “So are you in charge of the advertising budget too?”
This always is met with a very quick, “We’d like you and your wife to be our guests for dinner!”
And when I ask why they always say, “For all the good things you do!”
Excuse me, but I think you have me confused with Wil Wheaton.
Having never been a happy or well adjusted human being I have always looked this gift horse in the mouth.
What do they want out of that? If the cops busted the help for running a meth lab/being a satanic cult full of evil puppy kickers*/being an al-Qaeda cell do they expect me to take a minute and then say, “Yeah, but have you had the duck?” Or if the place accidentally burned down do they want me to cry out, “OH MAN! NOT THE DUCK!?”
Seeing no immediate answers in any it I go on refusing free food I wouldn’t have eaten on a bet in the first place because some has to set the standards for what noblesse oblige means in the 21st Century.
You’re welcome.
BTW – if you’re into social media you can follow Brook Alvarez here.
Me?
Well, you can just leave me the hell alone.
* “A satanic cult full of evil puppy kickers” (™ PEND Dr. Random)

Jethro Tull – Song for Jeffrey by piRjtull