David McElroy

making sense of a dysfunctional culture

David McElroy

Briefly: Sorry, Flipboard users, I can’t control inaccurate automated hashtags

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If you get here from Flipboard, you might have noticed that many of the keywords with which Flipboard tags my stories are horribly inaccurate. I’ve reported this to Flipboard, but the system is automated — and there’s nothing I can do about it. If I happen to mention something in an article, the automated algorithm at Flipboard often randomly picks that extraneous item as a tag. The article above, for instance, is about making personal changes inside yourself. I compared it to the process of renovating a crumbling old house which has been abandoned, so the Flipboard software thinks the article is about home flooring. Another recent article mentioned Tom Hanks — though it was about something entirely different — so the software tagged it as being about Hanks. So if you end up here expecting to read about flooring or about Tom Hanks, I apologize. I’m aware of the issue, but it’s a Flipboard problem beyond my control. I’ll keep looking for a way to change it if I can.

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It’s great to visit Memory Lane, but it’s fatal to try to live there

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I took a shortcut Friday afternoon from my office to my barber shop that took me through an industrial area where I used to spend a lot of time.

I hadn’t been on that part of Oxmoor Road in Homewood for about 15 years. Several of the printing companies I used to deal with — when I was a political consultant — are located in the area, so I was flooded with memories of late-night visits to do press-checks on mail pieces for my clients.

I printed dozens of jobs at Craftsman Printing right over there. Across from them was the old building where PressTech used to be before the owner — a man who did me more favors than I can count — unexpectedly killed himself on the press floor late one night.

My memory was flooded with faces and images and sensations of my time in the area. Part of me enjoyed the sweetly bitter sensation of experiencing a past which is now dead, but another part of me wanted to leave the area and never return. And then I had a sudden thought.

Memory Lane is a one-way street — and it’s a dead end.

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We’re great at making big plans, but God laughs at our intentions

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“Man plans and God laughs.”
— Yiddish proverb

Helen had been divorced for about a year and didn’t plan to get involved in another relationship for awhile. Her marriage had been unhappy and abusive. This short and skinny woman had started eating too much and became overweight for the first time in her life.

She felt lousy about herself inside. She felt unattractive on the outside. She didn’t trust anyone. Her plans were to stick to her own business and get her life in order. She didn’t want to fall in love with anyone.

About 18 months ago, she had worked all day and then spent an hour working out at a gym when a friend called to ask her to have a drink. She told her friend she was tired and that she was in workout clothes, but her friend persuaded her to meet at a bar for a few minutes anyway.

And that’s the night she met Michael.

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