Every once in a while I’ll see a news headline that’s so horrendous I can’t even click on it. But by then it’s too late. I already know. Details inside the story will add layers of sadness, and maybe put a finer point on the general feeling of grief.And on the one hand I’ll wish that I’d never heard the news. But on the other hand I’ll feel a duty to read about it, to know the details, to feel the grief, as if not ignoring the things I don’t want to know somehow honors the victims.It happened today with the headline on CNN.com: 6 children killed in school bus crash.That’s the sort of thing that ruins my world, and at the same time, makes me value my world.How does something like that happen? Monday morning, six kids left for school, probably excited to have a short week, followed by a long weekend. Their parents kissed them goodbye, told them they loved them (I hope), and then went about their days.While the kids were at school the parents went to work. Maybe they thought about their Thanksgiving menus. Maybe they spent a few minutes online shopping for Christmas gifts. Whatever they did, they didn’t know what was coming.And why should they? How many hundreds of bus rides have their kids taken without a care? How many millions of kids ride to and from school every single day without incident? The odds of anything happening are astronomical.But then something happens.Investigators are going to look into the speed of the bus. The driver is cooperating. Whatever that means. Driving conditions were clear and dry. No road construction. Something happened. Busses don’t just flip on their side and hit a tree without something happening.And yet it almost doesn’t even matter what happened. Six kids. That’s what matters.Stuff like this ruins my world because it makes me wonder how our world can be so fucked up that something like that can happen. Those kids were just coming home from school, and because of a bad decision by an adult, or a freak accident, or whatever….And we just ended one of the worst presidential campaigns in history, and I worry about the direction of our country, and doubt the wisdom of the people leading us, and wonder how the decisions they make will impact my children in years to come, and then this.How am I supposed to worry about the kind of world that my kids are going to face in thirty years when we can’t even guarantee they’re going to be safe this afternoon? Who the hell cares if they have no breathable air, or healthcare, or clean water when they’re my age if we can’t even get them home safely from school?But that’s despair. And if you give despair a damn inch it will eat you alive and you’ll stop moving, stop trying, stop improving. So then ten years from now, when you’re still here, and your kids are still here, you haven’t made anything any better than it was before.So despair can’t win.That’s how this sort of story makes me value my world. I’ve got four kids. I dropped two of them off at school this morning, as I do every Monday morning. And they made it home safely. Tonight, I tucked them in, and we recited the same routine we’ve repeated literally hundreds, or thousands, of times.Tomorrow morning I’ll wake them up at 6:45. I’ll feed them breakfast, make their lunch, and then I’ll leave for work. And they’ll go to school shortly after. Then, as I always do when things like this happen, I’ll think about them every few minutes throughout the day, and I’ll watch the clock, and when I know they’re home safe and sound I’ll breathe a sigh of relief.Another day done.I hate for days to pass because I don’t want them to get older, but I love for days to pass because I want them to get older.The world is full of horrible things.But my world is full of my kids. And as long as I can tuck them in at night, then I can handle whatever happened during the day.Click here to receive an e-mail each time I write a new post! Guaranteed spam-free, unsubscribe any time IF YOU LIKED THIS POST I BET YOU'LL ALSO LIKE: Childhood: It's Just a Phase So Don't Miss ItPREVIOUS POST: The Beasts Aren't the Only Things That Are Fantastic in Harry Potter Spinoff Film
The Beasts Aren't the Only Things That Are Fantastic in Harry Potter Spinoff Film
There’s a scene in the final five minutes of Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them during which one character somehow becomes a different character. He’s obviously undergone a change, and despite having watched the film for two hours at that point, I had no idea what happened.One moment a guy was there (played by Colin Farrell), and the next, it was a different guy. Not just a different actor (it’s a surprise, and although he looked familiar, I didn’t recognize him until I read the credits afterward, at which point I said, “Oh yeah, I guess that was him”), but a different character. They called him by a different name.That’s the only scene in the film during which I thought, “Maybe I’d understand this better if I knew more about the Harry Potter books and movies.” J.K. Rowling wrote the screenplay in which Newt Scamander (Eddie Redmayne), a magizoologist (magic zoologist) who wrote a book called Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them—which Harry Potter would read seventy years later during his first year of wizardry school at Hogwarts—brings fantastic beasts to New York City, only to see them escape and wreak havoc.But Rowling wisely didn’t incorporate much of the Harry Potter stories into the screenplay. The fact that the events take place seventy years before Harry starts school helps with that, but we also understand that rather than being based on Harry Potter, this is a separate story that just happens to take place in the same world.And what a world it is!I’m not a special effects guy. They don’t impress me, and if someone tells me that I have to see a film because of the special effects, I usually avoid it. I want story and I want characters, and no matter how many big explosions, cool fights, and sci-fi mumbo jumbo is included, it won’t make up for a lack of story and characters.But this film tells a layered, gripping story involving unique, riveting characters that just happen to live in a magical world and encounter fantastic beasts. So when Newt encounters a no-maj (a human with no magic, or a muggle if you’re a Potter purist) who’s on to his secrets, we don’t think twice when he waves his wand and instantly transports the no-maj, Jacob Kowalski (Dan Fogler) the length of the bank, then to the basement, then outside to the sidewalk.And watching Newt and Kowalski step into Newt’s suitcase as it lie on the floor, which transports them into an underworld where the fantastic beasts live, didn’t seem stupid, or like a silly special effect, but rather made me wish that I could go with them.When the action-packed climax of the film occurs, blocks of New York City are destroyed by a force we mere humans don’t understand, but the crashing walls, flipping cars, and bodies flying through the air didn’t seem like hokey, unbelievable special effects, but rather the consequences of the struggle.The basic story is simple. Newt comes to New York. He brings fantastic beasts with him. When one escapes, he’s turned in by a wizard world investigator, Tina (Katherine Waterston), but she’s ignored by the higher-ups, so she and Newt, along with Kowalski the no-maj, and Tina’s mind-reading sister Queenie (Alison Sudol) try to locate and recapture the missing fantastic beasts.That story alone would have been enough to propel the film, but there’s an additional storyline in which Mary Lou (Samantha Morton) runs an orphanage and is beginning her own witch-hunt. She and her followers hang signs around the city that read: “No witchcraft in America!” and “We need a second Salem.” One of Mary Lou’s children is a sensitive boy named Credence (Ezra Miller), who’s on the lookout for witches, but may have secrets of his own.From top to bottom this film helps us forget that we’re watching a wizardry world. Everything is so genuine and truthful that there’s no suspension of disbelief required. The sets and cinematography make us feel like we’re in 1920s New York. Eddie Redmayne plays Newt constantly on that line of being so weird that he doesn’t seem human, but so normal that he doesn’t seem like a wizard. Katherine Waterston’s Tina seems as impressed and surprised by the beasts as we are. And Dan Fogler’s Kowalski almost steals the show from the beasts and Redmayne. He acts using his entire body, and no movement seems wasted.The beasts are fantastic, and so is the film.Click here to receive an e-mail each time I write a new post! Guaranteed spam-free, unsubscribe any time IF YOU LIKED THIS POST I BET YOU'LL ALSO LIKE: The Lego Movie SucksPREVIOUS POST: My Book About Me Is A Tradition for Our Family
My Book About Me Is A Tradition for Our Family
When I turned six years old my mom and dad bought me Dr. Seuss’s My Book About Me for my birthday. I can’t remember if I was excited about the gift, or if I even knew what it was. I didn’t really care about books or reading or writing until I got to college, so I suspect that six-year-old Brett probably showed little enthusiasm for receiving a book for his birthday.A book? That means one fewer “real” present.I may not remember how I felt when I received the book, but I clearly remember my excitement working on the book.In case you’re not familiar with My Book About Me, it’s a do-it-yourself, fill-in-the-blank type book. Dr. Seuss wrote prompts and the child responds. Am I a boy or a girl? What color eyes do I have? What do I want to be when I grow up? How many windows are in my house? How many forks? What kind of noises can I make?I still have my copy of the book that I received for my six birthday, and I love reading it and seeing how I answered the questions, in my own handwriting. And as I read the book, I recall memories associated with the book.A year or so after I completed it, I changed my mind about my favorite book, so I crossed out the title I’d listed and wrote something else. My sister explained to me that I shouldn’t change my answers, that the book was meant to be a snapshot of me at that age. I thought that was stupid at the time, but it makes perfect sense now.I finished my book in June 1984, which I now associate with the famous Ryne Sandberg Game in which the Cubs second basemen hit two homeruns on a nationally televised game to beat the Cardinals. I have no recollection of that game, or of any baseball at that time, but I vividly recall my excitement when Larry the Mailman signed on the line reserved for the letter carrier’s autograph. A tall friend of my parents, Jim Harris, signed the line reserved for a man over six feet, three inches tall. He seemed giant to me.My oldest daughter received a My Book About Me before I came into her life after her second birthday. But I made sure to buy a copy of the book for my three youngest kids on their sixth birthdays. My youngest daughter turned six last month, and we’ve been working on completing her copy of the book ever since.Today we walked from our mailbox to the nearest store (actually, a restaurant, but there are a few situations in the book where we just have to say “close enough!”) and counted the steps. 1,016 steps. Her steps, not mine. We estimated the number of buttons and zippers that she owns. There’s no way we could count all of the buttons without missing some, so the number wouldn’t be accurate anyway, so we just decided to guess.The autograph page is mostly empty. Thus far she has only obtained the autograph from her uncle, but we’re already planning a stakeout next Saturday morning to wait for the letter carrier. I’m thinking about plans to get autographs from a grocer, a police officer, and a firefighter, too. Unlike my incomplete book, we’re not going to stop until she gets all of them!So we now have five My Book About Me books spread over two generations. I hope my kids will continue the tradition and buy a copy of the book for their children on their sixth birthday. If they don’t, I will!And as my kids get older I have no doubt they’ll enjoy their books as much as I’ve enjoyed mine. My copy is packed away in a box somewhere, but I’m going to find it to show my youngest daughter. I know we have one thing in common: we both listed broccoli as our least favorite food. But maybe thirty-two years from now she’ll grow to love it just like I have!Individually, the books are called My Book About Me. But in the hours we’ve spent doing these books together, and then reading them together, and marveling at the answers, we’ve changed them into Our Books About Us.Click here to receive an e-mail each time I write a new post! Guaranteed spam-free, unsubscribe any time IF YOU LIKED THIS POST I BET YOU'LL ALSO LIKE: How A Tiny Book Made Me Feel SpecialPREVIOUS POST: Trumpists Punish Starbucks By Giving Them Money
Trumpists Punish Starbucks By Giving Them Money
America is nothing if not a land of protests. In a country as diverse as our there’s always bound to be some group that’s unhappy, and thanks to the Constitution those unhappy people have the right to assemble peacefully and state their grievances.Sometimes it works, sometimes it doesn’t, but for the most part, any major change in this country began, or was forced, by protests. I’ve mentioned before one of my favorite quotes ever, by Margaret Mead: “Never doubt that a small group of thoughtful, committed citizens can change the world; indeed, it’s the only thing that ever has.”I love that so much. Power to the people, indeed.The latest protest in the news involves Donald Trump and Starbucks. Apparently, a Trump supporter went into a Starbucks and told them his name was Trump, and the person serving him refused to acknowledge that and put Trump on his cup. Of course, this dude was filming the interaction, and posted it to social media where the video took off.Then, some well-meaning souls decided to take up the cause and order their own Starbucks and say their name was Trump, too. Unsuspecting baristas would have to write Trump on the cup, and when the order was ready they’d call out “Trump!”Those crazy protestors! They’re getting Trump’s name written on cups. AND they’re making those bleeding-heart baristas say Trump’s name. Boy, they really know how to punish Starbucks for their CEO’s opposition to Trump.Just to recap: Trump supporters are protesting Starbucks by giving Starbucks money, and then taking pictures of their cups and posting them on social media, giving Starbucks additional free advertising.If this were a plan devised by some savvy Starbucks advertising executive it would be the most impressive thing ever.That’s not the case though. Instead, this is some Trump supporters’ idea of how a protest works. Perhaps that’s why they were so upset at Clinton supporters holding protests after the election: they don’t understand what a protest is.This anti-boycott of Starbucks is even more interesting after the confusion earlier this week over Pepsi. A fake news story on Facebook (who could have ever imagined such a thing?) claimed that the Pepsi CEO said some bad things about Trump, so it called on all Trump supporters to boycott Pepsi.I had a good time reading the Facebook posts of indignant Trump supporters who claimed they’d never drink Pepsi again. Some of them claimed not to even like Coke, but that now, even though Coke was gross, they’d much rather drink that then Pepsi.At least they’re consistent in their “reasoning.”Turns out that the Pepsi CEO didn’t say anything about Trump, making the boycott silly and useless. I don’t know if Pepsi was sweatin’ it anyway. They’re already the number two soft drink company in the U.S., and I doubt they worry too much about falling behind RC.Anyway, I’m rather amused at the trouble Trumpists are having at putting together a decent protest. It’s probably a good thing though. They’d look awfully hypocritical if they were to actually arrange a protest after making such a big deal over the whiny, everybody-gets-a-trophy brats who took to the streets after the candidate who won the most votes didn’t win the election.Perhaps victory caught Trumpists by surprise, too. They were all ready for armed insurrection—they had their muskets ready, by God!—if Hillary “stole” the “rigged” election. Then a funny thing happened: their guy won. And now, instead of taking their country back through the barrel of a gun, they discovered that they could take it back through voter suppression and rules written 220 years ago by men who governed a vastly different country.The need for working out their trigger fingers and pumping some hot lead into some wimpy liberals evaporated, so now they’re left to protesting a company by giving it money.Makes sense. I mean the company is named StarBUCKS.Click here to receive an e-mail each time I write a new post! Guaranteed spam-free, unsubscribe any time IF YOU LIKED THIS POST I BET YOU'LL ALSO LIKE: Interesting Elections from American HistoryPREVIOUS POST: Some Questions for President Trump
Some Questions for President Trump
Only fifty-three days until Donald Trump is president of the United States. When nine-year-old Brett was watching Wrestlemania IV—which Trump sponsored at his resort in Atlantic City—on closed-circuit television at the old International Ampitheatre, I don’t think anyone in the crowd would have believed that the words President and Trump would go together.He was a joke. Sort of the quintessential 1980s billionaire who wasn’t legitimate enough to turn away from wrestling and the spotlight that it brought. I remember watching an interview with him during Wrestlemania IV and thinking, “This guy’s an idiot.” And I was nine!In the twenty-eight years since then, he hasn’t become less idiotic. However, he has become president.And besides the obvious question—how the hell did this happen?—I’ve got some other things I'll ask Donny if I ever run into him.When you decided to run for president, you intended it to be a publicity stunt, didn’t you?When did you begin to marvel at how many people were voting for you?When did you begin to think you could win? When did you begin to worry that you might win? On election night, when you discovered that you had won, did you hyperventilate?Do you have any idea what you’re going to do now?Did you ever consider dropping out of the race?You were trying to lose the election, right?Each time you said something crazy you expected your poll numbers to tank, didn’t you?When you meet the people who voted for you, do you ever say, “What the fuck is wrong with these people?”Did you leak the tapes of you and Billy Bush? You did, didn’t you? Was it one last-ditch effort to get yourself out of this mess?How much of your own rhetoric do you actually believe? Are you worried that now you have to lead a country in which 60 million people believe in the very ideas that you thought were just jokes?Did you film this whole thing? Is this all one big, long season of The Apprentice? Do we get to tell you, “You’re fired?”How much do you know about governing? Any idea how many members are in the House of Representatives? If you and Mike Pence both have to resign in disgrace on the same day, do you know who would become president? How ‘bout if that guy has to resign, too?Do you have plans to change America’s name to Trumpland? Will you post oversized letters spelling your name at each international crossing?What was the last book you read? Any idea who the French president is? How about the Serbian Prime Minister or the Prime Minister of Vietnam? If I gave you a list of 300 words, and told you that only 200 of them were actually countries, could you pick out the 100 words that I made up?Are you already counting the days until your term is up? If you make it through the first term, will you admit now that there’s no way in hell that you’re running for re-election because you never wanted to be president in the first place?Is my prediction of your resignation sometime in 2018 wildly far off, or just a little off? Have you already written your resignation letter?You don’t really think you can ban Muslims from the country, do you? And that wall, you don’t really think you’re going to build a wall and have another country pay for it, do you? You’re speaking in metaphors, right? Surely you see the problem with rounding up 11 million people and sending them back to their countries of origin, don’t you?It’s a joke, right? You’re a joke, your campaign was a joke, your rallies were a joke. You’re going to turn into this middle of the road dude who demands concessions from both sides and realizes that to Make America Great again we must include everyone, right?We’re running out of time, Donny. Soon you’re going to be president of the United States. The most powerful man in the world. Please tell me you’re up to the job. Or at least reassure me that you’re better than everyone’s annoying, know-it-all uncle who they’ll tolerate at Thanksgiving next week.Because that's who you seem like. And no one wants their uncle running the country.Click here to receive an e-mail each time I write a new post! Guaranteed spam-free, unsubscribe any time IF YOU LIKED THIS POST I BET YOU'LL ALSO LIKE: Interesting Elections from American HistoryPREVIOUS POST: I'm Amazed By What I Don't Know
I'm Amazed By What I Don't Know
Leonard Cohen died last week. He was 82. News of his death surprised me because I’d just seen an article about him last month in The New Yorker. I didn’t read the article, so I didn’t know any more about him at his death than I did before I’d seen the article.The name sounded familiar to me, but two months ago, if someone asked me who Leonard Cohen was I would have had two guesses.First, I would have guessed that he was that guy from Star Trek, confusing him with Leonard Nimoy. Although in fairness to myself, there was a physical resemblance between the two men, especially as they grew older.Next, I would have guessed that he was a classical music composer, confusing him with Leonard Bernstein.Not until after his death did I begin to discover Leonard Cohen and his work. I’ve listened to a lot of it in the past week. His most recent release, You Want it Darker, is heavy, haunting and pure awesomeness. But when social media went crazy about Kate McKinnon’s performance of Hallelujah—which is a classic Leonard Cohen song—I didn’t know the song at all.In addition to thrilling me with the prospect of digging through all of Cohen’s past work, my realization that I was completely ignorant of Leonard Cohen was just a reminder of how much I don’t know.I like to think I’m smart. I’m a decent Trivial Pursuit partner, I know history rather well, I’ve read some books, and I can solve quadratic inequalities. Yet, I’m amazed by what I don’t know. More often than I’d like to admit I encounter a fact, or a concept, or a pop culture reference that it seems everyone else in the world already knows.I’ve probably written a million words over the past eighteen years or so. Yet only in the past twelve months have I discovered that never mind is not one word. Nevermind. No, that’s wrong. It’s never mind.Newfound. That’s a word, too. One word, not two. News to me.A friend mentioned the rheumatologist today and I discovered that a rheumatologist does more than treat arthritis. News to me.This isn’t a new phenomenon for me, unfortunately. I’m almost ashamed to admit this, but I didn’t know that pickles came from cucumbers until I was a teenager. Like late teens. Sixteen, seventeen. How does a person go through life that long without realizing that pickles look a lot like cucumbers? I knew about grapes and raisins, and plums and prunes, but cucumbers and pickles? Mind blowing!Every time I have an experience like I’ve had with Leonard Cohen, I’m left with the same question: who else don’t I know? What other brilliant songs and musicians have I missed? How did I manage to miss what seemingly everyone else picked up?I guess one way I can look at the intellectual black holes and pop culture shortcomings of my mind, is that I still get to experience the joy of discovery.I distinctly recall turning on Imagine by John Lennon for the first time for my youngest son last year. We listened to it together, and I envied his ability to enjoy the song for the first time. I have almost all of Leonard Cohen’s discography to enjoy for the first time. That’s not nothing.In the meantime, (that’s one word, not two, I got that right!) I just have to hope that I discover my ignorance before it makes me look too ignorant. I’m amazed at what I don’t know, but I hope not too many other people are amazed at what I don’t know.So if you know anything that you think I might not know, please tell me. Or if you see me making a fool of myself by using words like nevermind, speak up! I appreciate the joy of discovery, but I also appreciate the joy of not looking like an idiot.For now I’ll go back into my world of unknown unknowns and try to imagine what I don’t know.At least now I have a whole new set of amazing music to add to the soundtrack of stuff I know.Click here to receive an e-mail each time I write a new post! Guaranteed spam-free, unsubscribe any time IF YOU LIKED THIS POST I BET YOU'LL ALSO LIKE: Facebook as Idiot Warning SystemPREVIOUS POST: We Can't Expect Facebook to Protect Us From Fake News
We Can't Expect Facebook to Protect Us From Fake News
One of the most unfortunate things that I learned in this past election is that in politics, truth no longer matters. In an ideal political environment, chronic, intentional lying would end a career. Or at least curtail it from progressing.But we just survived an election in which the nominee for one party lied about ducking sniper fire, and using a private e-mail server, while the nominee for the other party lied so often that the independent Washington-watching organization, Politifact, has given a rating of Mostly False, False, or Pants on Fire to 70% of his claims that they evaluated.And of course, because nothing in this world makes sense any more, the candidate who lied the most, won, even though he got fewer votes.So in this political culture of lying, it’s no surprise that so many voters are suckered into believing outrageous lies. In addition to the lies spewed by candidates, voters are exposed to lies perpetrated by fake news sites. Many of these news sites choose to advertise on Facebook, so after the election some questioned whether Facebook has a responsibility for preventing these lies from spreading.No, they don’t.Facebook is a social media website. They provide a platform for people to connect with other people. If they began trying to monitor which stories were true and which were false, and then trying to weed out the false ones, they would only make the problem worse.Imagine the first time Facebook blocked a story that wasn’t completely false. Users would accuse them of censorship, and then begin to wonder what else Facebook wasn’t showing them, or imagining that they were using their platform to sway voters one way or another.If we can’t count on our leaders to tell us the truth, then it’s unreasonable and non-sensical to count on Facebook to do so. They shouldn’t lie to us. They shouldn’t post their on false stories. But we also shouldn’t expect them to “protect” us from seeing other false stories.Pointing the finger at Facebook on this only prevents us from pointing the finger to where it belongs: us.If we choose to believe bullshit, then we shouldn’t be surprised when we end up with bullshit. And that’s what has happened.I read a few news stories today—from reputable, real news agencies—that commented on the fake news stories that traveled around Facebook in the days before the election. I saw one of them on my own wall, posted by a “friend” who missed the day in school where we were taught critical thinking.The story claimed that an F.B.I. agent suspected in the Hillary Clinton e-mail leaks had just been killed in a murder-suicide. I didn’t click on the link—that kind of story sends my bullshit-o-meter up to the red line—but apparently it lead to a bogus story in the Denver Guardian. Worry not if you’ve never heard of the Denver Guardian. It doesn’t exist.But despite the non-existence of the newspaper, plenty of Trump sympathizers (Clinton haters?) believed the story. And even more importantly, some undecided voters probably saw the story as well.It’s not Facebook’s responsibility to tell us those stories are fake though. If we want a better country, one in which our leaders don’t lie to us, and they conduct themselves with a level of integrity that their offices should command, then it’s up to us to inform ourselves.And I’m not talking about just ignoring “the liberal media” or tuning out Fox News. I mean we need to question every single piece of information we see in social media. Who’s posting this? What’s the source? Who wrote the story? What other work have they done? Is this entertainment, or is it news?Facebook influenced this election simply with its existence. People shared “news” and news. They debated each other. They watched speeches. And, perhaps most importantly, Donald Trump found a way to harness the power of Facebook to help his fundraising (his self-financed campaign was one of his lies), and also to target ads toward specific segments of the population. Facebook is one of the best marketing platforms in existence today.But we can’t expect them to tell us what’s true and what’s not. We need to do some of the work. We can’t just believe every “fact” that’s put in front of us. Just because something appears on Facebook doesn’t mean it’s true.And until we begin looking at our candidates and our information through a more skeptical, questioning lens, the bullshit will keep rising to the top.Click here to receive an e-mail each time I write a new post! Guaranteed spam-free, unsubscribe any time IF YOU LIKED THIS POST I BET YOU'LL ALSO LIKE: Facebook as Idiot Warning SystemPREVIOUS POST: Buttons That Don't Work, Even Though We Think They Do
Buttons That Don't Work, Even Though We Think They Do
I read an article the other day all about buttons. Not the sort that keep your shirt closed, nor the round ones with a pin attached that you can wear on your coat or a backpack to show who you’re voting for. No, the article was entirely about the type of buttons we push.As a parent there are few universal rules more crystal clear than this: children love buttons. The function, color, size, shape, or illumination status of the button does not matter. If a kid sees a button, they’re going to push it.If we pull into the driveway and my kids make it to the front door before me, they’ll ring the doorbell—repeatedly—even if there’s no one else home. They like listening for the bell, but the main reason they press the button is the same reason people climb Mt. Everest: because it’s there.Adults like buttons, too, we just aren’t as upfront about it. And our interest in buttons has more to do with convenience than entertainment. If you doubt how much adults like buttons, just stand outside a bank of elevators as people arrive for work. If the elevator is the least bit slow someone will push the elevator call button again, even though it’s already lit up. Impatience drives adult button fascination.Which brings me to the article that I read.Much to my surprise, there is a button in an elevator that is almost universally worthless. The door-close button.After the American with Disabilities Act passed in 1990, elevators had to remain open for a period of time long enough for people with crutches or a wheelchair to enter. So shortly after the act passed, elevator manufacturers stopped making functioning door-close buttons.Most elevators have a working life of twenty-five years, so by now most elevators you ride in will have been replaced or refurbished, and the door-close button will not work.Not to worry though, the doors will obviously close by themselves. But when that impatient person near the control panel presses the door-close button, he’s not making the doors close more quickly. If you want to have an entertaining conversation you should point out that little tidbit.The door-open button does work, however. So if your co-worker tries to make it onto the elevator and gets crushed by the doors you can’t blame your inaction on the door-open button.Crosswalk buttons are another worthless button. With the advent of computer-controlled traffic lights, the vast majority of crosswalk buttons have become obsolete as well. Most cities will have a few of the buttons that still control the crosswalk, but for the most part your opportunity to cross the street won’t depend on pressing that button.I suspect the buttons remain for two reasons. One, they’re simply too expensive to remove, and nothing’s harmed by leaving them, even if they don’t work. But the second, more important reason is that kids like to press them. I defy you to find a kid in America who won’t immediately gravitate toward the crosswalk signal button as soon as they stop on the corner. Crosswalk signal buttons may not be operational any more, but each one still serves as a mini playground for children.There are other buttons that I suspect don’t work as well as they should, if they work at all.The rear defrost button on any car ever. Why does that thing time out? Am I not to be trusted with such heat-generating capacity? And what would happen if it didn’t time out and I forgot to shut it off? Is my car going to catch fire?The power button on a Nintendo Wii remote. Does the power button control the power to the console, or the power to the remote? What happens if I press it? I don’t play video games, but apparently nothing happens, because somehow my kids always leave on the Wii console and the remotes.No matter what the future holds for mechanical buttons, we can always be sure of one button that will never stop functioning: the human button. As in, “She really knows how to push my buttons.”In fact, we have perhaps the greatest exhibit of this in the person about to move into the White House. Review his Twitter account and you’ll see just how easy and effective it is to push his buttons.Finally, a button just as entertaining for adults to push as that crosswalk signal button is for kids!Click here to receive an e-mail each time I write a new post! Guaranteed spam-free, unsubscribe any time IF YOU LIKED THIS POST I BET YOU'LL ALSO LIKE: A Standing Desk Might Save your LifePREVIOUS POST: Obama Should Pardon Hillary