I drove three and a half hours with Pearlsky to have a two hour lunch and drive back. Don’t ask. For that, you get a blog post that may or may not hold together. I’m tired and it’s random.
We get to the restaurant and in a few minutes Pearlsky falls asleep. Too much Blondie on the way wore her out, I guess. Or my singing Hanging on the Telephone at full blast. But I digress.
As typical, she wakes up cranky. The restaurant was fairly empty so I try to distract her, tickle her a bit, walk around a little. An older lady, probably in her 40’s (ok, kidding, in her 70’s), tries to catch my eye, I see her, and she motions for me to walk over. I leave Pearlsky and walk over.
Do you think it would help or hurt if a stranger said hello to her?
Beats me, you are welcome to.
She came over, and other than complimenting Pearlsky on her Christmas colors (I can’t believe the old lady did not recognize the Lithuanian flag), chats for a minute to distract her, doesn’t ask questions (to either Pearlsky or me), and then smiles and goes back to her table. It helped Pearlsky a bit. Interesting.
Oh, and Pearlsky definitely prefers Blondie over Annie Lenox, but Annie beats all talk radio. Go figure.
Ken is blaming Claire for a discussion of blog stats. Feh. I’ll show you creepy stats. Using StatCounter, when I bother to look, one of the stats things that I get is this:
(click to enlarge)
That is an actual sample. I picked one that is not a regular reader. How do I know? Well, s/he came via google and a search for “daughter dad” which is typically someone looking for porn. Additionally, the person did not look at anything, just went away. But what I do know is when they looked (today, 8:53 A.M.), what browser (Firefox), their screen resolution, what country they are from AND typically what city, their IP address (an Internet thing, sort of like an address on the super highway, but to relate it to a real address takes a court order), what page they looked at, and how they came to the blog, in this case via the Google search for “daughter and dad.” There is also who the ISP is, that is, the Internet Service Provider. This is who you pay to use the Internet. It may be AOL, Comcast, Road Runner, Earthlink, Cox, etc.
YES, you may think this is creepy, and it is. But EVERY web site you go to sees all this information. Many save it. Many use it for different purposes, such as dynamic pricing (Retailers read the cookies kept on your browser or glean information from your past purchase history and alter their prices or offers accordingly.)
The ISP’s interest me. Some are fascinating. I have three dedicated readers from the US Congress (they have their own ISP) and I believe two people who work for Sports Illustrated. I always hoped for one from Larry King or Oprah, but alas, too late. The cities and countries are also fun, I have several readers from Hungary, I am sure that is Erika’s fault, and from a wide diversity of countries. I am really curious who reads from the town I grew up in, so if you are in your early 50’s and went to Plainview JFK, say hello!
I can only assume that the Scandinavian Women’s Mud Wrestling Team uses a proxy to hide their entries in my stats.
Speaking of stats, here is something really really cool that will keep you from working for hours …
That shows the frequency of the word “retard” (in blue) vs. the word “disabled” (in red) in English books from the year 1800 until 2008. Yes, Single Dad is a prolific reader, but no, this is not my doing. This is a Google tool that allows you to enter up to 5 words or simple phrases and search their database of 5.2 million books, and you can do it in American English, British English, Chinese, French, German, Spanish or Russian! If the article is still on line, read about it here OR if you read instructions, start here, else just jump right in here.
You know, I’m just thinking, these guys really need to have a national contest, or a show and tell at their next convention, or a national case study … anyone have any real connections? I want to volunteer my lovely daughter.
“Today can last another million years … Today can be the end of me … It’s 11:59, and I want to stay alive …”