Y’all, I realized the other day I’ve been writing about a lot of heavy stuff here lately. And, while I try to add humor to everything I put out there, I have to admit it seems here lately I’m only seeing the bitch worthy stuff. I’ll try to be more positive in the future. Unfortunately, today’s blog is more of the same. It was inspired by something I saw this weekend that both amazed and disgusted me. You see that picture right there? It was taken by yours truly while sitting at a rolled ice cream shop. What is rolled ice cream you ask? Tell me more? I thought you’d never ask. It’s the coolest thing ever. It’s Asian in origin, sometimes called Korean rolled ice cream. Basically, the workers pour cold liquid ice cream mix onto a super cold stone, like 7 or 8 degrees cold, and they use spackle knives to mix it up and form it into rolls and serve it in a little container with toppings. Think Cold Stone Creamery but instead of a blob of ice cream, it’s a roll of ice cream. Now, back to my story.
So we are sitting there having rolled ice cream and this particular establishment encourages patrons to write stuff on sticky notes and put them on the wall. I am not exaggerating when I tell you every third sticky note was a person asking for followers on Instagram, Twitter, Youtube or Snapchat – sometimes all four. That’s right folks, perfect strangers putting their personal information out there for the whole world to see. An ax murderer or child molester could be out there looking at this wall o’ stick notes and find 100 victims easy. I know I sound like someone’s Great Aunt Tilly wringing my hands about safety. But, honestly, it is not that hard to track down personal information on the internet. Every mother and/or teenager over 14 practically has a black belt in internet research. When I saw this, I was incensed over the stupidity. Then, I was worried. Finally, I was hit with disbelief. How in the hell did we go from 18-year-olds joining up for a war they didn’t create to attention whores that eat Tide pods on camera. I cannot understand this younger generation’s need for attention. After all, it’s not like they haven’t received copious amounts of attention since birth. These kids have been showered with attention, told they were special, and given certificates and trophies at every turn for showing up, sitting nicely and being human. You’d think with all this adoration they wouldn’t feel the need to ask random people they will never meet to join them on social media and follow every minute detail of their lives. Look, I know I am making a broad sweeping generalized statement about today’s youth. I know this is just a small sampling but it worries me just the same. What kind of society will these vapid, attention seeking kids produce? I’m not even kidding when I say I don’t want my kids to pair up with one of these idiots and procreate.
In an effort to not raise attention whores, I used the wall of idiocy as a teachable moment. I explained to my kids how insane it is to put your information out there like that. Think nothing of attracting wackos, there’s identity theft, people lifting your photos, online bullying, etc., etc. Hell, even me writing this blog, I refuse to say my exact city or even use names. (Whispers – I’m still trying to come up with a super awesome stage name, so stay tuned.) I reminded them that they do not need the adoration of a million subscribers or virtual friends to validate them. I reminded them that a solid relationship with family and a few really good friends that you can truly count on when shit hits the fan are more precious than any amount of fair-weather friends. Of course, I did the Mom thing where I said if I ever find out you’re pimping yourself out on sticky notes or any other ridiculousness like that I will hurt you and ground you for life. I also warned them of taking up with people who pimp themselves out like this because really do you want your picture and your personal business all over the internet for the world to see. My God, when I think about the crap that may still be floating around on the internet of me before kids. It makes me want to get a good stiff drink and plastic surgery to change my face. Let’s just say that Mardi Gras in the late 90s was no joke. There may be pictures of me topless on Girls Gone Wild #975 but there isn’t a link to the photo on a sticky note wall in an ice cream shop.