Stalking and Being Stalked

 

It’s taken awhile for Life in the Boomer Lane to notice that she is being stalked by products she has searched for online.  There are, apparently, companies, most likely founded and run by recently toilet-trained tots, whose job is to imprint whatever LBL searches for and to then cause those items to appear on whatever other site she clicks on to.

Currently, she is being stalked by toddler socks and full coverage/full support bras.  In the recent  past, she has been stalked by ceramic salt and pepper shakers, jeggings, and Hanukkah decorations.  There is nothing shameful about this, although LBL admits to feeling shame by being reminded that her life revolves around things like small feet and large breasts.

She has a nagging suspicion that, while others are spending their time in more lofty pursuits, she is in front of a screen searching for nothing of any intellectual value. She wonders what others search for, and whether what they search for has any more substance than what she searches for. Worse, are they searching for nothing?  Are their lives so full that nothing is needed?  Or, are their interests geared toward a deeper understanding of world events, political commentary, and scientific breakthroughs?  Even worse, are they away from the computer screen entirely, meditating or practicing yoga or hiking up some random mountain or saving lives?

LBL does not practice yoga, meditation, hiking or life-saving activities. And she cannot grasp world events.  Or rather, she can grasp only what is happening at the moment, with only the vaguest knowledge of the thousands of years of history that preceded the current event.  She drowns in the roots of  the Sunni vs Shia conflict or the Israeli vs Arab conflict or the conservative vs liberal conflict that have brought us to where we are today. While her brain is trying to make sense of this, and failing, she is increasingly aware that she could use a new pair of jeggings.  She also wonders how many people have viewed the items she is currently selling on eBay, and exactly what the critics said that lured her into the theater last night (and had her leave before the film ended) to see Birdman and whether the photos of Jessa Duggar’s wedding have been posted yet. These topics are far easier to grasp than world events.

For that reason, she finds her fingers typing “jeggings” or “Birdman” or “Jessa Duggar”  in an attempt to enable her brain cells to relax.  But then the stalking begins. Photos of jeans, socks, salt and pepper shakers, bras, booties, US Magazine, and Fandango start popping up everywhere. They have invisible signs on them that say “This is what your life has come down to.”

She has considered fake-searching other items, like a compendium of the greatest philosophical thought of the twentieth century or tiny bikinis. Every time either of them popped up on her screen, it would make her proud that she would have been in need of such things.  She could then expand to yoga mats, hiking boots, and meditation weekends. The possibilities are endless: volunteer opportunities around the world, lectures in quantum physics, local triathlon events, biking tours of French wine country. After awhile, she could be permanently surrounded by an entire virtual world of personal growth and sweat.

Her real life would have to go underground.  Searches would have to be done at the library or the office, where no one would tag her need for hair straightening products, discount Eileen Fisher clothing, or the latest non-invasive cosmetic surgery procedures.  Oh, and then there’s Jill Duggar’s pregnancy.  She got married three months ago, and in pure Duggar fashion, is already three month’s pregnant. Research must be done about that. In fact, LBL must end this post immediately, get dressed, and go to the office. Her true life is waiting.