Thursday, March 17, 2016

Last Week, I Tried to Use the “F” Word

Yep. I gave it a go. I typed into my phone, “Hot bleeping mess.”

And autocorrect changed it to “hot funkiness.”

Thank you, autocorrect. Thank you for being the British nanny over my shoulder. Thank you for judging me gently and steering me in the way I should go. Thank you for allowing some of personality to shine through (after all, I’m a fan of most things funky, except for odors).

Autocorrect, while slow to learn, has picked certain things up: When I type, “Okeydoke” as one word, I mean it. I don’t mean “okay” or “oh, key dork.” And yes, in the Keri Stevens lexicon, “purty” IS a word.

I’m becoming a fan of anticipated text, as well. I type two letters, I get three word choices, and usually one of them is the rest of the word I was planning to key in. I’ve had some questionable moments with anticipated text, however: Once I emailed my husband to remind him it was pay day. “I need your…” were the first three words I keyed in. My phone offered up “hot,” “sexy” and “body” as my next three potential choices.

Boy, did I feel mercenary as I finished that text. I’m pretty sure, the nanny in my phone had made some judgments about my marriage as a result.

What about you? Are you having fun with the 21st century tools and toys? Does your tech have a mind of its own?



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Thursday, November 19, 2015

It’s A Kind of Magic

Young Dr. Stevens.jpg

For my birthday, Dr. Stevens got me the blu-ray disk of THE HIGHLANDER, which was one of our favorite movies back when you got everything on VHS from your local Blockbuster video store.

(I’ll give you whippersnappers a minute to Google up all the weird terms and concepts in that sentence. You back? Good.)

The lead actor, Christopher Lambert, makes some unusually…intense expressions. I had forgotten how disconcerting his eyes were. Naturally, as I was watching, I IMDB-ed the movie and actor.

(I’ll give you “vintage citizens” a moment to Google up “to IMDB.” You back? Good.)

One reviewer commented that Lambert’s “piercing gaze” was a result of his extreme near-sightedness.

You say, “piercing gaze.” I say, “myopic squint.”

THAT’S what writers do. We shape and reshape reality by rearranging squiggles on a page. We wiggle our fingers about over keys or paper, and reality changes. I need to remind myself of this when I think that writing is just another synonym for “slogging through cold mud uphill while sheets of rain beat you in the face.”

Off to hunt down GREYSTOKE, which I’m pretty sure I watched on late-night cable television at my aunt’s house while everyone else was asleep. Because there was no way my mother would have allowed me to watch it, otherwise.



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Thursday, July 16, 2015

To the Gal in the Glamour Shot

RD Scan Pt. 2: 163

You may not know this, but if you play the game, “Type your first name and ‘Glamour Shot’ into the search bar,” some really hilarious photos come up. My husband is Steve. “Steve Glamour Shot” in the Google search bar renders…well, you can see for yourself.

Go ahead, take a moment: Try it with “Steve.” Try it with your own name.

Are you finished guffawing yet?

When I try it, I get something extra special: The FIRST photo that comes up for “Keri Glamour Shot” is…KERI FORD!

She was adorable back in the day, but then—I wasn’t too shabby myself! This photo is from MY shoot, which I had made in honor of my engagement to the aforementioned Steve 22 years earlier ago . My husband’s office is still scattered with these big-haired portraits of me.

Bless. His. Heart. Today is our 22nd wedding anniversary. To celebrate, I’m going to give some advice to the that girl in the photo:

  • Go back to Nogales, and go back to Rocky Point. Every weekend while you are living in Tucson, travel down to Mexico and have a great time because these days its not worth your life to go there. Those days are over and the world has changed.
  • Put down that cookbook in the bookstore and get to know your Crock-Pot. You are an adequate cook, but don’t waste your money on those fancy recipes. You don’t have the temperament now to be a great, precise cook and you won’t develop it. Save your money for fancy cocktails, because it turns out you do quite enjoy cocktails.
  • Speaking of cocktails—no, there’s nothing anyone can do to make gin taste less gin-like. Smile politely at them and drink something else.
  • You will reach a point when you realize that (a) you don’t need every single person to like you and (b) you don’t WANT every single person to like you. If I were you (and I was) I’d get there sooner rather than later. It’s good here on the other side of the Wall Of Bitchiness.
  • Your marriage sticks. Worry less about it and enjoy it more.
    Three kids. Not four. Three is plenty—trust me.
  • To hell with the graduate degree in writing (I mean, REALLY, Honey!)—those people just get weirder, and you don’t want to waste that many hours learning how to write non-stories about distasteful people to whom nothing happens and who do nothing themselves. Remember the FUN story? Work on that.
  • Learn to spell “Presbyterian” correctly. And being asked to be an “elder” is not an insult.
  • If you can’t decide whether or not to go dancing, go dancing.
  • Stop mocking people wearing underwire. Very soon, you won’t have the right to talk (Remember all of those gin-free cocktails)

What would you say to blushing-faced you, bride-to-be or not?



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