Too Much Information
We live in the information age. This sounds like a wonderful thing, and I think it would be if we humans could keep up with sorting through what is useful and what is not. I sure can’t. Daily, I frantically dig my way through an avalanche of information, and since organization is not one of my strengths, I usually end up buried.
Here’s a case in point. I’ve ordered a sweatshirt online. It’s coming from Croatia. I know this because I get a steady stream of emails informing me that the tracking status has been updated. If I’d just purchased say, the Hope diamond, I might appreciate this level of reassurance, but this is just a dumb sweatshirt. Also, given the time it’s taking, I imagine the sweatshirt is being passed from runner to runner (each one of whom updates the status) as it slowly makes its way across Europe by foot.
Similarly, my daughter bought a baseball cap. She would have liked to have worn it out of the store, but she couldn’t because it was festooned with not one, but two six-inch long ribbons of instructions. I’m not exaggerating; I measured them. What on earth could possibly be so important? I took a closer look. First off, this hat is ONE SIZE. The label doesn’t reveal what size this is, but the fact that it is the size that it is, is repeated in (I think), English, French, Spanish, Thai, Indonesian, Chinese, Japanese, Cambodian and Arabic, a total of nine languages. Next, I learned that the hat was made in Taiwan (also repeated nine times) and all the places where I can buy this hat, California, Canada, England, Hong Kong, Japan and the Netherlands. Impressive, but not helpful since only Japan thought to include the address.
hat takes care of the front side of one of the labels. On the back of label one we are informed that the hat is made of cotton except for the decoration. No one knows what the decoration is made of, it could be strands of kryptonite, I’ll never know, but the cotton information is in 19 languages Nineteen? Google tells me that 23 languages will cover half the world’s population. It seems to me that since the hat makers have gone this far, they may as well have included the other four languages, and maybe a few press releases to CNN for as much global coverage as possible.
Label number two on this Rosetta stone of a hat, gives us the washing instructions. These are very serious:
“Hand wash cold 30 degrees Celsius. Use detergent. Only non-chlorine bleach when needed. Do not squeeze. Line dry in the shade. Do not tumble dry. Do not iron. Do not dry clean.”
If you run these instructions through a few languages on Google translate and then back into English you are advised to:
“Wash your hands at 30°C. If necessary, use chlorine-based soap and non-staining soap. Don't push. Stay in the shadows. Do not dry out. He couldn't get through. Do not dry clean.”
This strikes me as a great loop-hole for kids. “Honest Mom, I took a bath! You must have bought the staining soap!”
That’s finally it. Except for the twelve mysterious logos on the bottom of the second label. Many are crossed out. It looks as though I shouldn’t do something. But what? I have no idea. With all the information coming my way, I have no idea about anything anymore.
Here’s a case in point. I’ve ordered a sweatshirt online. It’s coming from Croatia. I know this because I get a steady stream of emails informing me that the tracking status has been updated. If I’d just purchased say, the Hope diamond, I might appreciate this level of reassurance, but this is just a dumb sweatshirt. Also, given the time it’s taking, I imagine the sweatshirt is being passed from runner to runner (each one of whom updates the status) as it slowly makes its way across Europe by foot.
Similarly, my daughter bought a baseball cap. She would have liked to have worn it out of the store, but she couldn’t because it was festooned with not one, but two six-inch long ribbons of instructions. I’m not exaggerating; I measured them. What on earth could possibly be so important? I took a closer look. First off, this hat is ONE SIZE. The label doesn’t reveal what size this is, but the fact that it is the size that it is, is repeated in (I think), English, French, Spanish, Thai, Indonesian, Chinese, Japanese, Cambodian and Arabic, a total of nine languages. Next, I learned that the hat was made in Taiwan (also repeated nine times) and all the places where I can buy this hat, California, Canada, England, Hong Kong, Japan and the Netherlands. Impressive, but not helpful since only Japan thought to include the address.
hat takes care of the front side of one of the labels. On the back of label one we are informed that the hat is made of cotton except for the decoration. No one knows what the decoration is made of, it could be strands of kryptonite, I’ll never know, but the cotton information is in 19 languages Nineteen? Google tells me that 23 languages will cover half the world’s population. It seems to me that since the hat makers have gone this far, they may as well have included the other four languages, and maybe a few press releases to CNN for as much global coverage as possible.
Label number two on this Rosetta stone of a hat, gives us the washing instructions. These are very serious:
“Hand wash cold 30 degrees Celsius. Use detergent. Only non-chlorine bleach when needed. Do not squeeze. Line dry in the shade. Do not tumble dry. Do not iron. Do not dry clean.”
If you run these instructions through a few languages on Google translate and then back into English you are advised to:
“Wash your hands at 30°C. If necessary, use chlorine-based soap and non-staining soap. Don't push. Stay in the shadows. Do not dry out. He couldn't get through. Do not dry clean.”
This strikes me as a great loop-hole for kids. “Honest Mom, I took a bath! You must have bought the staining soap!”
That’s finally it. Except for the twelve mysterious logos on the bottom of the second label. Many are crossed out. It looks as though I shouldn’t do something. But what? I have no idea. With all the information coming my way, I have no idea about anything anymore.
