My attention was drawn this morning to a video short posted by Ad Age.

It reminds me of a little guessing game we play in this family. We’re deeply intrigued with the inventors of handy gadgetry. The latest, greatest invention always sparks an instant debate over whether its creator was male or female, based upon the level of intuitiveness and real-world usefulness of the design. Now nothing against you guys out there, but when males invent things intended for use by women, a great deal of the time we don’t understand what you could possibly have been thinking. Our needs are different from yours, our brains are wired differently, and if you really want to market an item to us, you have to think like we do.

Before going any further with this, let me tell you why you should care. It’s standard marketing wisdom that women control 80% of all household purchases. That’s why marketers of household supplies, kids’ gear, food, cosmetics and clothes are good at reaching women. But women buy gender-neutral stuff, too: cars, auto services, technology; the list includes everything but Viagra. Women today influence 85% of automobile buying decisions, according to GM. They also purchase 65% of new cars. Women make 75% of all healthcare decisions, whether for themselves or their families, according to a recent report from the Pew Internet & American Life Project. They also make up more than half of all health consumers.

Now if you’re married or have a serious relationship with a female, you don’t need to read this next paragraph. (You could write it.) Let me tell you how the consumer world works in general. We ladies make most of the buying decisions for our families. Shopping is what we do and boy are we good at it. We also like the most bang for a buck and don’t tend to buy useless junk. We invest our money in the stuff we find truly useful; things that will make our daily lives easier. If you make a clutzy can opener that’s difficult and messy to operate, we’ll buy someone else’s can opener instead, but we won’t stop there. We’ll waste no time in calling all of our gal pals to warn them about your really dreadful can opener so they don’t make the same mistake. Kaboom: instant viral marketing, and believe me, we have a lot of friends on speed dial.

In short, what women want right now is attention to detail in product design and service; the right choices, not endless choices; and a more thorough, thoughtful selling process that respects our desire to understand what we’re buying before we take it home. We also care deeply about customer service. Women make final purchasing decisions based on the relationship with the seller, not on statistics and quantitative data. Given a choice between two nearly identical products, women are likely to decide based upon customer service and the ongoing relationship with the vendor. If you take care of us after we purchase your product, you’ve got a loyal customer for life.

We also prefer simple, straight-forward instructions over 200-page manuals, not because we’re incapable of understanding but simply because we don’t have time to read through pages and pages of instructions to get to the operational basics. Most of us are uber-multitasking with families and careers to balance. Quick start manuals are a girl’s best friend.

All in all, we’re a formidable force to be reckoned with in today’s marketplace. Why do you think we carry these big handbags anyway?

Just my Lynnterpretation.

Yesterday I celebrated my 53rd birthday. Sounds old, but I’d honestly rather be 53 than 43, 33, or even 23. Being middle-aged isn’t as bad as you might think. For instance, if you forget an important date, folks are more likely to cut you a break. You can be shockingly blunt and get away with it. If your clothes don’t happen to match, people just kind of blow it off. After all, you’re “middle-aged”. It’s a license to do most anything really. Run with it.

It’s also an age when you tend to analyze your life and rearrange priorities. When you’re young, it’s easy to be convinced that you’re immortal and assume there’s going to be plenty time for everything. There’s nothing like middle age to shoot the hell out of that theory. Some things just have to go, and by mid-life, you know exactly what they are. No more spending time with people who bore you. No more attending social events you don’t really want to sit through. You start buying clothes just because they’re comfortable and throw away all those attractive but torturous heels. FYI, Dr. Scholl’s makes some sandals that feel like your bedroom slippers. They’re the only shoes I own, with the exception of my trusty work out shoes.

At age 50, I decided to make a “bucket list”.  I’ve checked off most everything already, since time is closing in quickly. The list is rather short, and I’m sharing it in hopes it’ll inspire you…

Renew old friendships

There’s no friend like an old friend. They know all about you and love you anyway. We all have friends we’ve lost touch with through the years. This summer I decided to do something about that. I looked up two pals from the past. We spent time laughing together, ate good food, filled in the missing years’ events, and in one case, we even…

Climbed Harney Peak

The highest point in North America west of the Rockies, it’s not an easy trek. My girlfriend, two years my senior, was ahead of me most of the way, which was a little embarrassing, but by the time we reached the summit we felt like we’d climbed Mt. Everest. Now this is especially notable when you understand I’m terrified of heights. Not only did I survive, but one month later, did a repeat performance with my son and grandson.

Master the violin

I’ve played just about every other instrument, but the violin always seemed foreboding. It sounded particularly difficult to learn, since I was told it involves math, and I suck at math. Upon turning 50, I invested in a year’s worth of lessons, then took off on my own playing Bluegrass by ear. And you know what? It wasn’t as hard as I thought it’d be. You’ll find that’s the case with most things in life.

Cut the fat

I’m not just talking about getting in physical shape here, but in cutting excesses from every corner of life. That means nixing any toxic relationships, streamlining household tasks, and just letting a lot of things go. Try it; it’s tremendously freeing.

Live life large

Every day is an adventure, or at least it should be. When you wake up in the morning, the possibilities are endless. Every day could also be your last, much as we don’t like to think about that. Mortality becomes more of a reality after 50. Make every day count.

Live to 100  (pending)

This is one I’ve been working on since the birth of my first grandson 12 years ago. The start of a new generation creates a marvelous impetus to living longer. I have a burning desire to see who they marry, watch them discover meaningful occupations, and look forward to meeting my great-grandchildren. It means you quit smoking, get off the couch, and watch what you put in your mouth. To that goal, I presently walk 2 miles every morning, followed by a 2-mile swim and a half hour of circuit training. I’m a mostly-vegetarian these days, after realizing that red meat is probably killing us slowly. I say mostly, since occasionally everyone has a burning need for a big ol’ greasy cheeseburger. Know what else is killing us? Processed sugar and white flour. Why put stuff in your body that doesn’t do you any good? Sounds radical, but after a while you don’t really miss it. Your brain needs exercise too, so don’t forget that. Challenge yourself to learn new things, even impossible things. You’ll be surprised.

Now clearly, the list is getting short, and I’m nowhere near ready to die yet, so I’ll have to think up a few more items to add. Which means you’ll need to come back for another chapter in the continuing saga of “My Life from Zero to One Hundred”.

All in all, 53 isn’t so bad; and in any case, it beats the alternative.

Just my Lynnterpretation.

It’s always a let-down for my family when the Olympics are over. We really get into the games here, glued to the TV every chance we get during those two weeks. Winter games, summer games, doesn’t matter; we just love our olympic athletes.

That said, I was a little stunned to see the extravagance of this year’s opening and closing ceremonies. Now before you start having a hissy fit, hear me out. I love a big party as much as the next girl. The Olympics are a very big deal for whatever country is lucky enough to host them. It’s a boon for their economy and draws international attention like nothing else does. Watching the opening ceremonies this summer, I had to wonder, just what does an elaborate production like that cost, and what’s the final tab for hosting the Olympics? So I did a little checking.

The Athens games in 2004 were budgeted for US $1.6 billion and ended up costing US $16 billion. The upcoming London games were originally budgeted at US $8 billion but already US $19 billion has been spent. And one of the worst examples is Montreal, where residents just finished paying off the games they hosted over 30 years ago. Taxpayers always end up footing a big bill for their leaders’ Olympic vanity.

Turns out this year’s extravaganza was the most expensive of all Olympic Games ever held. The Chinese government promoted the games to highlight China’s emergence on the world stage and invested heavily in new facilities and transportation systems. When the Chinese Communist regime planned the budget for the Summer Olympic Games years ago, the budget was estimated to cost US $1.6 billion. A recent tally shows that China has spent over US $55 billion. Wow.

Is it me or are there a lot of other things the world could do with 55 billion bucks? Such as… oh I don’t know… feed starving children in third-world countries who don’t even have a TV to watch the games on? Forget TV, they don’t even have running water. Or video games. Or (and this one really hurts) Internet access. Wait a minute, did I say “third-world countries”? I just described a great number of impoverished migrant families living in China today.

Now you have to understand you’re talking to a lady who spent $550 on her wedding. It’s been 34 years and people are still talking about how much fun that thing was. I know what you’re thinking, she’s old and that was a long time ago in cost-of-living years. Well, I also threw together a darling wedding for my only daughter to the tune of $1,500 and it wasn’t so long ago. (If you have daughters with expensive taste, you’re curious and a little scared, let me know. I’ll share the details.)

Not to get off-topic, but my point here is that you can throw one monster of a party without mortgaging the farm and auctioning off your first-born. I’ve always taken issue with spending money on fleeting things vs. lasting things. Weddings and ceremonies and parties last a day and then, poof, they’re gone. If you spend a lot of dough on these affairs, it’s down the toilet, which just doesn’t make a lot of sense to me.

Beijing’s such a big show-off. Do we really need to see a host of bejeweled, hydraulically suspended flying acrobats and enough fireworks to power New York City for a month?

At the end of the day, here’s the problem I have with it all:

Is it me?

Just my Lynnterpretation.

Everywhere I go lately, I’m being pummeled with political rhetoric, thinly veiled under the guise of journalism. And that’s okay; it’s an election year, news has turned media-centric, and we’ve grown to expect this.

So here’s what does bug me: the terminology politicians misuse. For instance, ever notice how many times a politician’s statement to or about an opponent begins, “With all due respect… ” ? Interestingly, this is generally followed by an avalanche of verbal bullets that would make most peoples’ mothers blush. But they seem to think if they preface that zinger with their undying pledge of personal respect, it’ll somehow cushion the bloody blow. Why not just say what they really think and stop calling it “respect”?

Okay, and here’s another one for you: “Secret Service”. Are they kidding? A posse of serious dudes in crisp black suits and Oakleys following a politician around can only be one of two things: the “Secret Service” or the Blues Brothers. If they’re not singing and dancing, they probably aren’t the Blues Brothers, so what does that leave? Not very secretive, guys. I think we should refer to them as the “Glaringly Conspicuous Service”.

And this one always gets me. We’re frequently shown a map of the US, full of blue states and red states. Never mind who came up with that color chart idea, but I’m curious as to how they determine which states comprise the “Midwest”. Just for grins, find yourself a map of the continental US, take a ruler and measure out the center point. Then draw a vertical line down the middle and explain to me how they figure some of these states are any kind of “West”? How about if we just go with East, West or Middle and call it a day. Maybe they’re all dyslexic, which would sure explain a lot of other things I’ve wondered about politicians.

Just my Lynnterpretation.

As a Web developer of twelve years, people just naturally assume I must have a blog lying around somewhere. Actually, no. I’ve always felt there’s a reason diaries come with a lock and key. For a solid decade, I’ve resisted the temptation to tirelessly bore humanity at large with my biased opinions and imaginative theories. Then I woke up one day and decided it would be a great way to get even.

Truth be known, this isn’t technically my first blog though. My modest pre-blog back in 1999 had three posts and no backend CMS app to power it, but I honestly don’t know what else you’d call it. The concept was the same.

If Wikipedia’s timeline of the blog is correct, that makes me one of the original virgin bloggers. (Frankly, at age 53, it’s charming just to be a virgin anything.)

I’m here to make you laugh and I promise not to bore you. So let’s don’t be shy; click that little RSS button over there and hang with me. It’s not like you have anything to lose.

Just my Lynnterpretation.