Just Grab the Turd

There are a few times in your life where your eyes are truly opened to the world around you. It's usually after you observe someone doing something innocuous in a way that is diametrically opposed to how you do it.

The earliest instance of this for me was in elementary school. My class was on a field trip to the zoo, and my classmate Preston pulled his entire pants down at the urinal. I didn't even know you could do that, or why you would do that. But in my 8-year-old brain I started to question my own world view.

Why am I just plopping it over my waistband when I could be doing that? Hmmm... come to think of it the waistband puts undue pressure on my taint and balls—where the pee is stored—and it probably is affecting my velocity and drip remainder...

Ultimately, after running all the numbers I decided that Preston's method was insane because his bare-bottom ass was on full display to God and Santa.

Another notable instance was in college when my housemate would wash, and then dry (?), his chicken breasts in the sink.

The most recent example of this phenomenon occurred after noticing all the people who walk their dogs in my neighborhood. There is one guy who has some type of Retriever mix; he walks with the leash in one hand and a giant pooper scooper in the other (the kind that is the separate broom and bin, not the single extendo hungy hungry hippo style). I thought that was weird because most people use dog bags, and we have several waste stations along the trail around the lake/clubhouse. That guy is not only walking around with cumbersome tools, but then also, is presumably walking around with a bare dookie in the bin for the rest of his walk.

"Hmmm..." I said to myself. I didn't spend much more time thinking about it, and quite frankly forgot about it for a month. Then I saw my dad trying to pick up poop from his dog. His method placed the bag sideways and open on the grass. He then proceeded with the saddest Devil Sticks routine with this canine log.

He kept trying to flick it up into the bag but the sticks would twist on him and it would flop back down. Then he would have a turn where he had the mudpie in a firm hold but then overshoot the bag. Was it entertaining to watch a 70 year old man struggle to put a poop in a bag? Yes. Was it also sad? Yes.

"Why don't you just pick it up?" I yelled.

"Because I'm not squeezing shit." He replied.

Do most people not flip the bag over and pick it up? It was at that point I realized maybe I was the bare-assed-at-the-urinal, sink-chicken washer.

That night, I went online and started researching pooper scoopers.

As I have been out of the creative/content game for years now, it has been a tough reentry—especially when the main platform you subsisted on for a decade plus is in absolute ruins. I have a listlessness that comes from doing nothing other than balancing how many responsibilities I shirk and don't shirk.

I don't quite understand TikTok in an intuitive enough way to embrace it. I loathe overproduced YouTube videos. But, I see a need.

As an early adopter, I usually purchase products that are newer or use them in a way that others aren't. The result? When I purchased Philips Hue outdoor lights two years ago, the only resources in existence were people unboxing it. Nobody installing them. I have a long-held suspicion that most of these channels simply purchase the product to cleanly unbox it then return it. There was no one who actually used the product and installed it, and could tell you the pitfalls of the design and layout. Or that you could actually go beyond the 115ft max distance if you were in a pinch.

When I purchased a Daikon mini-split for the office we were building, there was not one video about how the Daikon Bluetooth/Wi-Fi adapter actually interfaced with Google Home. Surprising me when I connected the app and learned that there is no interface to interact with it... only through voice commands.

When I installed my Legrand In-Wall Enclosure, nothing anywhere tells you that now the trim-ring has built-in clips, and therefore you actually can't install their cable channel clips anymore to get a clean install.

When I attempted to migrate my Plex Server to my new QNAP TS-464 NAS... there is no guide for migration from MacOS to QNAP. They only have guides for clean installs. And, to make things even better, QNAP released a new version of their Container Station app making all the walkthrough videos done in the last year obsolete.

But, I'm thinking about this in the wrong way. When I was creating content years ago it was because I was severely depressed, living alone in a city during the week, working 60+ hours, and sleeping on an air mattress in a house I was renting from a guy who kept the cat litter box in the bathroom and never cleaned it so the poo particles mixed with the shower steam to seep into your pores. My wife and children were 2 hours away, and I was just trying to fill the vorago of despair and all the "free" time I had. I didn't really give a shit what I was doing. I just did it because I thought it was funny, that it would provide an abstract value to someone. I never cared to monetize it.

It would be the same thing now, just inverted. Instead of trying to fill the free time, I want to save someone's free time. The best help I've ever found on YouTube was a random guy doing a video about how to replace the ribbon cable in the overhead monitor of a Town & Country. The video is not at all succinct or edited, or even good. But, it has 73,000 views, and he saved me $800. I am forever in his debt.

My hesitancy is that since I did this kind of stuff before I don't want to start over... or that the quality of what I produce now might be weaker than in the past. I bought a green screen, a new XLR mic interface, a handful of standing desk accessories, and a camera. I even got an El Gato Stream Deck. Why? For the sole purpose of programming a button to turn the kitchen lamp light red to let the rest of the family that I am on a call. All of it has been sitting in my garage for 3 months.

I kept thinking about how online accounts are always more successful when they occupy a vertical, but that has never been me. Part of what has held me back is "Who is going to care about any of this? Is this not embarrassing to be doing a video about standing desk attachments?" However, it's content out of necessity, not specifically to game an algorithm. The Internet is infinite and timeless, until it isn't. We've lost the kind of deep knowledge that you could only ever find on a lunatic wrestling fan's Angelfire page. I'd like to play my part in correcting that.

I had been paralyzed by the fear that I don't have it anymore, that what I think is hilarious no longer jibes with what others find hilarious. Or worse... that now that I'm not abusing alcohol and ideating suicide I'm not as funny anymore.

I took the first step a few months ago. The first TikTok I made was a Season 5 Mentalist Patrick Jane Fan Cam.

I spent an ungodly amount of time on this. Way more time than I would ever admit to, and certainly more than you could accurately guess. But, I thought it was funny, and I was thoroughly enjoying my The Mentalist rewatch. It was necessary for me, and that's really all that matters.

I'm excited to do something consistent (finishing any of the dozen drafts I have here that I only created because I thought of a funny title first). I think I'll start chronicling my Ticketmaster AMEX saga next. In trying to get Olivia Rodrigo tickets for my daughter, an issue with Ticketmaster has culminated with an agent muttering under his breath, "fucking idiot, dude" not aware I was still on the phone or that he wasn't muted. Is that funny? Objectively, yes. I will be attempting to ride this grievance straight into floor tickets.

Anyways, to drive this metaphor home. I've decided to not really care what other people are doing, or how they are doing it anymore. I'll just grab the turd. I hope you do, too.