I Couldn’t Care Less


Ok, enough is enough. “I’M AS MAD AS HELL, AND I’M NOT GOING TO TAKE THIS ANYMORE!” Thank you, Mr. Beale, my sentiments exactly.  Why are my dander and hackles raised? Why am I miffed, displeased, put out and irritated? Because I’ve heard, yet again, someone use the phrase “I could care less” instead of “I couldn’t care less.”

“I couldn’t care less” originated in Britain and became popular the United States in the 1950s. Ten years later, “I could care less” recklessly entered the scene.  This is equivalent to the proverbial scraping of nails on a blackboard. It defies all that is logical! It’s pretty simple, if you “couldn’t care less,” then there is no caring left to care about. Wait, that confused even me. Let me try again,  if you “could care less,” then you care at least a bit whereas if you “couldn’t care less,” logic dictates that the caring bucket is empty and you’re not getting any.

Now, there can be exceptions to this. Sarcasm and implied comparison, “I could care less…than you,” would be fine, if that was the true intent. I’d put my money on the fact that the phrase is being improperly used.

Anyway, time to go, “I couldn’t care less!”


Information Overload

There are times when I just have to turn off my personal computer, tablet, smartphone and relax. I, like most others, am bombarded on a daily basis with email, text messages, notifications, reminders and news headlines. Any or all of my devices can often be heard buzzing and chiming, reminding me of things I have forgotten to do or don’t want to do.

When I get overwhelmed, I take an online holiday. It may last a day or a week, but I know when it’s time to go naked, so to speak. Did someone say Luddite? I blissfully  go about my business on my own terms. I avoid news of any kind like the plague. “No news is good news,” at least temporarily. I get to recharge my battery along with my now quiet silicon pals. It’s wonderful albeit short lived. Soon it will be time to power up and tune in…..hold on, I have to answer this text, let me get back to you.

A Pill for Every Ailment  

I’ve settled in for the evening after a particularly frustrating day at the office. I’m in my favorite chair and have turned on the television to spend a few hours of mindless entertainment. Within the past thirty minutes, I’ve seen three commercials for medications which require a doctor’s prescription. All have a litany of side effects that can cause anything from hives to death. One particularly gruesome medication promises longer life, the fine print indicates only a few months, if you suffer from a particularly aggressive form of cancer. “Who wouldn’t want to live longer” is the tag line.

There seems to be a medication for every ache and pain. Gas, back pain, skin disorders, insomnia, indigestion and depression can all be resolved with a simple pill with a catchy name.  I assume aging baby boomers are the impetus for the proliferation of these ads. I’m not saying some medications aren’t vital for maintaining your health, but some seem a tad over the top and a bit superfluous. I trust my doctor’s advice more than a deep voiced pitch man and some smiling commercial actors.

The commercials themselves are quite interesting. All the action seems to be shot in slow motion with slice of life moments portraying everyday people in often improbable situations such as picnicking on a mountain top, giving flowers to absolute strangers and making or selling odd art objects. Sad expressions miraculously become beaming smiles after taking these magic potions.

I often wonder how cost effective these advertisements are? Do viewers actually make an appointment with their doctor to discuss these medications? Perhaps taking all these wonder drugs has quite the opposite effect “as advertised.”