For The Love Of God. No More News Videos. Please!

I admit it. I get the majority (dare I say all?) of my news from the blurbs that pop up on my computer screen. My home screen is msn.com and my email is yahoo. Two news sources from which to glean the top news stories of the day.

As you all know, my computer is a dinosaur. Yes. Money is tight right now for our family. But, I’m also cheap. Very cheap. With some things, anyway. And buying a new computer every….ok, this is embarrassing……every 10 years (I think the one I’m on right now is about 8 years old)….is ridiculous. They should make things that last, right?

Oh, I know my computer is still working but the programs are quickly becoming obsolete. And updating them is almost as expensive as buying a new computer…but I digress. But you’re used to that, right?

Focus, Jane. Focus.

So, I click on a news story that interests me and BAM. I’m locked onto a page, with a video loading. My dinosaur of a computer is trying its darndest to load that sucker before the next load of laundry needs to be shoved into the dryer. And I’m stuck. Watching that silly little twirling-arrow-counting-down thingy. For forever.

So, I get annoyed. And do one of two things.

1.) I walk away from the computer and straighten the playroom, get myself a beverage (sometimes I have time for a hot beverage) and unload and load the dishwasher.

OR

2.) I jam my finger onto the turn on/turn off button on the hard drive and wait for the computer to shut down manually. Then I re-boot the computer, realizing that I will now never know how to stay healthy while traveling or why Kim Kardashian’s marriage (fling?) really broke up.

Sometimes there is a warning. Sometimes I see a little tiny video camera icon that alerts me to the time sucking dangers ahead.

I love those times.

But online journalism has gotten sneaky over the years. Sometimes there isn’t a warning. Sometimes it’s a really clever headline teaser for a really juicy piece of news gossip and I get sucked right in.

I hate those times.

Give me text! For the love of God. Please. No more news videos. Let me scan the information at my leisure. Let me decide if the information is useful or entertaining. Do not, I repeat, do not make me sit through 3 minutes and 45 seconds with your goofy model wanna-be posing as a newscaster, complete with inane banter to tell me something I could have read in 27 seconds.

That’s 3 minutes and 18 seconds of my life wasted. That I will never get back. Not including the 2 minutes and 14 seconds to download the waste-of-time-news-story in the first place.

Don’t do that to me, please.

I beg of you.

And now, dear readers, back to your regularly scheduled blog cruising.

Hurry! Listen To This Before It’s Too Late!

I’m not sure if you’ve noticed but I haven’t published a “Tunes for Tuesday” in quite some time now. Ok. Maybe you’ve noticed and you’ve been too polite to ask about it. Afraid it might stir up something unpleasant or I might take it as a criticism of my lack of follow-through.

Oh, you’re so kind.

Or maybe, you haven’t said anything because whenever you’d see a “Tunes for Tuesday” post you’d quickly click the other way because you don’t need any music recommendations, thank you very much, and thank God Jane gave you a free pass to click somewhere else by posting something so dull.

This is the probable explanation.

But aren’t you dying to know the real reason I’ve been reluctant to post music recs (until now)?

Apparently, when I post a music video from YouTube – even a remote, homemade video created by Joe or Jane Commonmusiclover – it eventually gets pulled from my blog by the powers that be because I’m violating some privacy law. (Or some such thing.)

Seriously?

Lil’ ol’ me?

Crusader against plagiarism Jane?

So, I post the video on my blog? What’s the big deal?  It clearly says “YouTube” on it. (So, duh. That’s where I got it.) It clearly has the name of the artist and the name of the song.

And here’s the kicker. I don’t make a dime off posting it here. And I don’t make a dime from this blog. Never have. Never will. I’m not in this for the money. (Just the fame) I don’t have advertising. I don’t get paid to write. I don’t get kickbacks for pushing books, music or my favorite charities.

I do all this free advertising for you, dear YouTube and your artists, out of the goodness of my heart. I am the common man billboard, shouting out to all 12 of my readers to hurry and buy your product. And I don’t ask for a dime.

(But maybe I should……..? Hmmmmmm…….)

I’m taking a big chance here, posting a music recommendation. So hurry and listen before it’s too late!

My daughter gives me music recommendations. She’s the only reason that Lady Gaga and Flo Rida (among others) are on my ipod. I give her recommendations. I was listening to Cage The Elephant and All Rebel Rockers before her. She couldn’t believe I had Shake it by Metro Station on my ipod before her. But, hey. What can I say? I’m all cool like that.

I’m not like a regular mom. I’m a cool mom.

Now, I’m a bit behind in finding Paper Tongues. Apparently, they produced their first album in 2009. And this song, Ride to California, is my new favorite song. It’s like Cage the Elephant and Flo Rida mashed up together. Rock hip hop is the best way I can describe it.

It’s catchy. It’s fun. Turn it up loud and start cleaning your kitchen. Put it on repeat and you’ll have a sparkling house in no time.

That’s how I get through daily housework, anyway.

Enjoy! (While it lasts)

(Disclaimer to the powers that be: I am common Jane. I am merely pushing your product, FOR FREE, in the hopes that other like-minded individuals will buy your product. If your sales increase because of my recommendation? Yay! Good for you! I won’t ask for a dime. But they won’t plummet, either. I promise. Even the annoying Google ads still run on the video. Please consider this before pulling your video from my blog. Thank you.)

Please Say That Tyler’s Story Will Change Just One Heart

Yesterday, I posted the faces of Dharun Ravi and Molly Wei in my anger. Angry at them for their callous disregard of our right to privacy. I wanted everyone to see who pushed Tyler Clementi over the edge. I want their faces to be known so that they can’t “just move” to avoid recognition.

Yesterday, I was angry.

Today, I am sad. So very, very sad that a beautiful human being has left this earth. A violinist. A student. A friend. A son.

I want to tell his parents how very, very sorry I am that they lost their son so tragically. I want to tell them I can’t imagine the pain and loss they are suffering. I want to tell them to “just breathe.”

Maybe it’s because of the losses I have endured these past few weeks. Maybe it’s because I lost a dear high school friend to suicide during our first month of college. Maybe I am hoping upon hope that Tyler’s death will be a wake-up call to every amateur videographer out there.

Just maybe.

“Yes, I understand that every life must end, aw-huh,..
As we sit alone, I know someday we must go” – But this was much too soon. And I ache knowing that Tyler felt so desperate, so alone, that he felt his only choice was suicide. And I can only imagine the pain and heartache those close to him (most of all, his parents) are feeling. Such guilt for not helping. Unneccessary guilt, unfounded guilt. But guilt, nonetheless.

“Oh I’m a lucky man, to count on both hands
the ones I love,..
Some folks just have one,
yeah, others, they’ve got none” – I am so blessed to have an amazing support system. And Tyler’s death reminds me of those out there who have precious few in their lives to turn to. I wish my arms were long enough to reach them all.

“Let’s just breathe” – We can only do what we can do. We can love our children with all our might. We can remember those in times of need. We can cling to our spouses, lovers or friends. But some days it’s all we can do to just breathe.

I chose to write about this again today because many of you commented that you were unaware of Tyler’s story. Tyler Clementi deserves more press, more than Ravi and Wei, that is. His is the spirit that was shattered. His is the life that was ended.

Nothing can bring Tyler back. But maybe his story will reach through the internet and touch hearts. Maybe it will turn hearts and change just one soul out there, encouraging kindness, compassion and most of all, privacy.

Trash Comes In All Kinds Of Colors

The suicide death of Tyler Clementi still has me reeling.

When I first heard of the story last week I was shocked. Not shocked that an 18-year-old college freshman took his life. That is, unfortunately, not terribly shocking. Not shocked that he was gay. I’ve been aware that gay people exist in our society since…..well, since I could identify sexuality.

No. I was shocked, appalled, horrified that a personal, private, behind closed doors, intimate encounter was broadcasted all over the internet unbeknownst to him. That his roommate secretly set up a webcam and then tweeted to all of his twits out there, announcing when to watch.

Shocked.

Appalled.

Horrified.

What if that had been you? Or me? Any one of us in the middle of what we think is a private, personal consensual act and it gets broadcasted over the internet air waves for everyone to see. Our children. Our parents. Our neighbors. Our employer. Our mailman.

Everyone.

Think of how differently everyone would look at you if they saw that video. Could you still go to the grocery store without titters or stares?

“So move,” someone so eloquently said on a blog, “You don’t have to kill yourself.” I agree, suicide is extreme but let’s get back to your first suggestion. Move? Move where? Where don’t they have the internet? Where do you suggest dear Tyler Clementi move to?

Idiot.

And when I read it was his roommate and a friend of the roommate’s who did this? I have to admit. I didn’t form a very politically correct image in my head. I pictured two caucasian, homophobic yahoos. From uneducated, backwoods families.

And then I read about their background and saw their photos.

Two young people who may have suffered the same, baseless prejudice themselves. From educated families. Who attended some of the best schools.

What is it about our technologically crazed society that feels it is OK to video tape someone without their knowledge and consent and then post it for the world to see? I’ve had this discussion with my own daughter, who taped a man singing on the subway with her phone. She and her friends laughed over it. I made her erase it. It wasn’t obscene. But it wasn’t “quality” singing. And they were laughing at him. Not his t-shirt slogan. Thank goodness she didn’t post this anywhere. (At least, after our talk, I’m fairly certain she didn’t post this. And if she did, I darn well hope she took it down.)

My daughter’s lack of boundaries when it comes to strangers is common. More common than we’d like to admit. So common, in fact, that we’re focusing on the kind of sex that was broadcast by Ravi and Wei – not that any kind of personal, private, sexual moment between two people should ever be broadcasted over the internet. Ever.

The pain Tyler Clementi’s family is going through is unimaginable. The parents of Ravi and Wei must be devastated, as well. Hopefully, Ravi and Wei are feeling infinite regret and remorse for their actions.

But I’ve learned I am guilty of stereotype. I’m embarrassed that I wanted the accused to be white. It’s easier to perpetuate stereotype than to realize we are all fallible. We are all equal in that regard.

My mother was right.

Trash, does indeed, come in all kinds of colors.