My Algorithm Is A Nice Person

 If you’ve ever been sucked into the vortex of Instagram, then you have experienced what it’s

like to have your feed get highjacked by the almighty and all-knowing algorithm.

About a month ago my wife begrudgingly sat with me on the couch while I watched one of the

greatest worst films of all-time, the 2014 masterpiece, Sharknado 2: The Second One.

I could write a whole blog about Ian Ziering (pronounced EYE-ANN) and his tour de force

performance but that is not what I am here to talk about.

What happened after the movie is what caught me off guard.

When I opened my Instagram the first thing that popped up in my feed was an ad for a JAWS

Trucker Hat. Yes, as in JAWS the not-so-friendly shark.

Crazy right?

I know what you are thinking. Did he buy the hat? Of course, I did.

Again, not the point.

We are living in a world where everyday conversations are being data mined by corporations to

“better serve” our shopping experience.

Damn you smart phone, Alexa and smart TV. I trusted you.

Also thank you. The JAWS hat is fire.

It sounds very 1984, but is it out of the realm of possibility that Big Brother is using the

algorithm for good and not evil?

The other day an ad popped up in my feed for a line of apparel marketing itself as “anti-

depression.”

Contextually the ad made sense because I have experienced depression and talk about it often.

The picture in the ad was of a woman standing in line behind someone wearing a sweatshirt

that reads, “Dear person behind me, you are amazing, beautiful, and you are enough. Remember that.”

Gut punch.

I’m not crying. You’re crying.

I immediately thought, EVERYONE needs this sweatshirt.

The world needs this sweatshirt!

Everyone that stands in any line, in any place, for any reason, needs to be wearing this

sweatshirt.


How many times has someone struggling in silence, needed to hear those words but did not

have the courage to ask for help?

How many people would still be here today if they had read those words on the back of a

sweatshirt?

Your sweatshirt.

My sweatshirt.

It is so incredibly difficult to recognize the signs of depression or to know if someone is

struggling.

More than 50,000 Americans died by suicide in 2023. More than any year on record.

We need to increase the awareness.

We need to have the conversations but first we need to start them.

How do we start a conversation as difficult as this one?

Maybe it’s as simple as a sweatshirt.


If you or someone you know is struggling, you can receive help 24 hours a day. Please call the

Suicide and Crisis Lifeline.

Dial 988




Enjoyed the content? Never miss out on future posts by following


Comments

  1. Eric StamMarch 21, 2024 at 8:16 AM

    This is a great one! You are beautiful and enough…we all are!!!

    ReplyDelete

Post a Comment

Popular posts from this blog

Definition Of A Hug

Image
Dear Mr. Webster, Earlier today, I was writing a piece in tribute to a friend that was taken from us way too soon. Like countless times before, I turned to your esteemed book for inspiration and guidance.  On this particular occasion I was looking for the definition of the word "hug" and I was aghast at what I found.  The definition you have provided claims that a hug is, " an act of holding someone tightly in one's arms, typically to express affection. " Excuse my French sir but that is absolute applesauce and I reserve the right to contest.  Mr. Webster, if I may... While I understand the immense pressure you must endure to recurrently add something of value and substance to your book, I cannot and will not condone the morally irreprehensible and dare I say, heinous disservice you have done to one of the most important human gestures known to man. Shame on you sir. There aren't enough words in the English language, let alone, any language to communicate th
Read more

My Sobriety Is Like David Blaine

Image
It is hard for me to articulate in words just how grateful I am to be sober. It is not because sobriety made it possible for me to find a meaningful profession. Or that getting sober saved my marriage. Or even that being sober got me into the best shape of my life. Especially not that last one. I am 53 and my body is about as sturdy as a bridge made out of pipe cleaners.  My gratitude is far less glamorous than that. Since I have been in recovery, I have heard the word gratitude about a hundred thousand times. Sometimes it resonates with me like an earthquake and sometimes it disintegrates into a million tiny little pieces before it ever reaches my brain. What I am most grateful for might sound less profound than you would expect.  I am most grateful for not having the urge to drink.  To this day, I still do not understand how my cravings for alcohol and drugs have vanished. It's like David Blaine poking an ice pick through his arm or regurgitating live frogs on the Jimmy Fallon Sh
Read more

Cry Baby, Cry

Image
​ When was the last time you cried? I’m not talking about the type of crying you do at the end of Rudy . I’m talking about that Ricky Schroder type of crying, like when he can’t wake up the Champ. I’m talking bloodshot eyes, snot everywhere and eyeliner that looks like someone left tire tracks on your face. The type of crying that makes it hard to breathe. The type of crying where you can’t get the words out. The type of crying that makes you rethink everything you thought you knew about yourself. For me, it was yesterday, in my car, in a parking lot, listening to Creed. When I first got sober, Creed was pretty much all I listened to for some reason. Music is funny like that. It can move shit around in your brain and your bones. It can shake the tree in your soul until every last apple hits the dirt with a dull thud. When I was active in my addiction, I used alcohol and drugs to not feel. Always avoiding the real stuff. Happy on the outside, hurting on the inside. I was like the clown
Read more