Tuesday, February 2, 2016

Mrs C's Recipe for Coping in the Modern World

Do you know there is a condition called FOMO?

Furthermore, those who reject this affliction have invented their own suffering, that is, FOBI (it may be something else but I simply don't have the energy to Google such nonsense).

FOMO stands for Fear Of Missing Out, though why an acronym is used instead of all four words beats me. Then again I think I do know. This select herd of paranoid -ists, clamouring to be included, these deluded social gagas deliberately use an acronym so others ARE (that's not an acronym) left out. Hence they create their own little clique.

Clever.

But rude.

FOBIs have a Fear Of Being Included.

Really? Invite them to something and they make sure there's free booze before they accept then they're the last to leave.

It's so very chi-chi now to dispense entirely with words and use the first letters only - have you noticed? It's an outbreak - Bureaucratitis. Margaret Chan could declare this, in her best Queen Elizabeth II voice, A World Wide Emergency.

RATFLMFAO. Yes, took me a while to work that out too; about the same time it takes me to send a text saying, "I'm on my way" - that is, ten minutes. And don't allow your children to mock your tardiness while they execute the Gettysburg Address on their I-phone in ten seconds using two thumbs. Just remind them you once taught them to use a knife and fork and tie their shoelaces.

Oh, but we don't teach toddlers to use knives and forks these days do we? Too controlling.

Once, a long time ago when Mrs C was a teenager the only acronym was SWALK. No teenager would even know how to write a letter, put it in an envelope and post it these days.

And when these young things aren't UTTTST or RATFLTFAOATP; OIJSOMMWHSB or WDJKJSTFU they are typing very odd letters for their employers.

To wit.

A friend is always telling me I need to find a new, younger husband (he's mad) but to humour him, while on holiday in Samoa last week I sent this photo of a strong, polite, handsome 24-year-old I met.

As my friend was out of town, his personal assistant replied saying "if appropriate" he would respond upon his return.

"If appropriate"? The corollary to this was my letter could be deemed "inappropriate", like picking one's nose, scratching one's bum, or farting in church.

Needless to say the letter was strewn with spelling mistakes and apostrophes were scattered about like sparrow poos.

Sigh.

I find only one way to cope with this. You must not try to compete. Do not, under any circumstances, attempt to join this ridiculous trend and try to look hip. Mrs C will share with you her recipe for the Modern World.

Go to the cellar. Choose a good bubbly, Viognier, or a red of your desire - Syrah or Pinot.

Gently remove the cork, or screwcap is fine (we are not snobs), pour yourself a glass or three, and put your feet up.

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