Don’t be a Martha – and Four Other Tips about Making a Tudeo

Let’s begin with the obvious question: what is a tudeo?

It is a word – invented by me – that combines the words “tutorial”  and “‘video.”  Once you’ve written the phrase “tutorial videos” hundreds of times, believe me, you start looking for a shortcut.

Use the word “tudeo” with your friends and family – “I can’t stay on the phone,  Aunt Marge,  I have a tudeo to watch on bathtub caulking”    – and  together,  let’s watch it become part of the social media vernacular.

But now let’s address the real reason we are here –  how to make a good tudeo.

Over the last three months, I’ve watched hundreds of  tudeos.  And in my search for the most helpful ones, I’ve seen some horrendous things.  Confusing things.  I did not complain at the time, but, trust me, it ain’t easy being a YouTube filtering mechanism.

But I also learned a few things along the way about what makes a good tudeo.  And I am willing (and eager) to share my tips with you.

Without further ado, here is my YouTube Tudeo Best Practices List:

1. Don’t kill people 

This, my friends, should be obvious.  Why then do people post tudeos with instructions that could lead to instant death?

Recently, I was trying to find a tudeo for help  on changing light fixtures.  With every YouTube video, there is a place underneath where people can leave comments.  Almost every single person – all of whom seemed to know something about matters electrical – denounced the advice as dangerous.  The word “electrocution” was used, for crying out loud.

It is worth noting that nobody defended the instructions.  Nobody wrote “I followed the instructions to the letter and I am fine.”  Why? Because those people are dead.

 2. Comport yourself in a manner appropriate to the subject  

I was watching a tudeo recently on cake decorating and the woman demonstrating the technique looked like she had just been told that she was going to be executed at dawn.  At several points, she muttered darkly under her breath.  If there was a dog nearby, she would have kicked it.

Hey lady, I don’t want to make your grumpy cake anyway.

Conversely, if you are providing instruction on how to sew on an arm that has just been sheared off by a passing locomotive, then, by all means, look grim.  If you furrowed your brow and set your mouth into a tight, determined line, I’d appreciate it all the more.

 3. Provide written commentary

I absorb information better when it is in written form.  A lot of people do.  That is why it’s helpful to have a written recap every time an important point is made in a tudeo.

Recently, I decided that I wanted to speak like Gloria from Modern Family so I watched a tudeo that coached me on how to affect  a Spanish accent.   When I saw the same video on Videojug, I shouted  a uvular fricative of joy upon discovering written instructions posted underneath.  For that reason, I am posting it below.   I teenk joo  ahrr go-heen to be leeking dis bideo.       

 4.  Don’t skip steps

Yes, I’m looking at you, Martha Stewart.  I am still bitter about the fitted sheet debacle.  Why you thought it wise to take the viewer from Point A to Point B to Point C to Point F with a subject as complex as the folding of fitted sheets, I’ll just never know.

So please tudeo makers, don’t be a Martha.  Provide detailed instruction.Don’t miss a single step.

If we knew what we were doing in the first place, would we be looking at a tudeo for guidance?

5.  Have Some Production Values

Your tudeo doesn’t need Hollywood production values, but it would be nice to hear your instruction and see you what you are doing.

I watched a crochet tudeo  where the hooking was demonstrated by someone separated from the camera by a long dining room table.  At least, I think she was crocheting.  Who will ever know?

I also noted that camera people who shoot cat manicure tudeos tend to shoot from a distance.  I am all in favour of self-preservation, but when something intricate and detailed is being demonstrated, we kind of want to see it.  Tight camera angles, people.

Also be aware of ambient sound.  Don’t give instructions on changing a tire when you are standing within spitting distance of the Indy 500.  We appreciate that it might give you credibility, but none of us are auditioning to be part of the pit crew.  We just want to be able to hear the instructions on how to change a tire on our Elantra.

Watch out Rob Ford, I just learned how to spot a liar!

The average person is lied to between 10 and 200 times a day.  Spouses, friends, co-workers, lovers, family members, strangers – everyone’s pants are on fire.

So, is there anyone I can trust?  I mean besides that very nice saleswoman at Banana Republic who insisted that those tight purple trousers made me look just like Carmen Electra?

I decide to put my faith in Pamela Meyer, a social media expert.  She has written a book, Liespotting, which synthesizes the research of psychologists and lays out the techniques developed by national espionage, intelligence, security and law enforcement agencies to detect duplicity.

These are techniques we can all use.  After all, professional liespotters get to the truth about 90% of the time.  The rest of us are lucky to spot a lie half the time.

Hoodwinked

In her TED talk on YouTube, Meyer distills the art of fibbing.  Lying is as old as breathing,  but the world in which we are now living – littered with Ponzi schemers, identity thieves, partisan media outlets and spammers ­- has become dangerously close to being a post-truth society, she says.

So how do we avoid getting caught up in the trawling nets of deception?  How can we tell when we are being hoodwinked?

Well, apparently, it’s not so much words that give a liar away.  It’s the posture, eyes, breathing rate, fidgets and a host of other indicators.

For example, a liar’s gestures won’t by in sync with what he is saying. Meyer shows us a video of former presidential candidate John Edwards fervently denying he fathered a child with a woman who was not his wife.  When asked if he would be willing to undergo a paternity test, he shakes his head no while insisting that he would be pleased to take such a step to prove his innocence.

Duping Delight

A disturbing example is shown of what Meyer refers to as “duping delight” – when someone unintentionally leaks their true feelings. A mother is being interviewed about the last horrifying minutes of her daughter’s young life after being shot by a “scraggy-haired stranger.”  She recounts the story like she is calling out items on a grocery list, then looks at the interviewer and gives a big smile.

And what discourse about prevarication would be complete without footage of Bill Clinton?   This is an example where the choice of words gave a liar away, explains Meyer.

In the video Bill states – “I did not have sexual relations with that woman, Miss Lewinsky.”

Meyer points out the non-contracted denial.  Those over-determined in their disavowal will resort to formal language much more than those who are telling the truth. Bill also uses distancing language – that woman – to further remove himself from Monica.   Such language is the hallmark of dissemblers, who unconsciously want to disassociate themselves as much as possible from the subject.

Red Flags

What are some of the other red flags in speech?  The use of qualifying language – “in all candour” and “to tell you the truth” – is a telltale sign.  People who repeat a question, in its entirety, before answering are also more likely to be fibbing.  And be on the alert for people who go into more detail than necessary when they recount an event.

I watch the rest of the video and pick up some more tips.  I am now ready to take my tools to the street.

And when I say “the street,” I mean, of course, “the sofa.”

While viewing Law and Order SVU, I use my new tools to immediately nail the shifty-eyed big sister as the baddie of the episode. I watch, anger rising, as the kindergarten teacher is arrested for crimes against children I know he did not commit. Oh, Olivia, why are you being so obtuse?  She regrets it later when the teacher is proven innocent.  She tries to atone but the man’s reputation is in tatters.  Too late for apologies,  Olivia.  Too late.

Eavesdropping

Clearly, I am a natural at this. Eager to put my new skills to real-life use, I decide to eavesdrop on conversations during my morning subway commute and denounce people (silently) if I catch them lying.

I make my way to the only two people talking in my car.  The women are complaining about an unproductive co-worker.  The more outspoken of the two asserts she is going to march into their supervisor’s office today and lay it all out for her.  She is sick and f—ing tired of doing this guy’s work.  Nope, no lying there.  I move on.

Hmmm.  I need some liars.  I look around. Does Rob Ford ever take the subway?

I have better luck the next day on the way home.  Stealthily, I make my way to the only two people speaking in the subway car – a quarrelling teenage couple.  As I pretend to study an advertisement for a match-making service,  I listen in.

Here’s the deal. She wants to spend the evening with him and his buddies. He is not such a fan of that idea.

It’s just going to be  guys.  They’re  going to see the movie Bad Grandpa. It is going to be stupid. She won’t have fun. No other girls will be there. He kinda wishes he wasn’t going. But he promised, y’know.

The girl has her doubts. After all, her friend Alliyah told her that she’ll be hangin’ with the guys tonight.

“Alliyah says she is going to hang with us?” he repeats, lowering his voice and blinking rapidly.

I am tempted to look away.  This poor kid couldn’t lie his way out of a well-buttered sleeping bag and his girlfriend is no fool.  She certainly didn’t need to watch 18 minutes of a Pamela Meyer tutorial to know she is being duped.  “You know she is going!” she accuses.

I nod at her.  They both look at me.  We are standing close enough for a group hug.  I move away.  My job here is done.

Super Power

I am not sure how I feel about this new super power of mine.

Certainly, I did not enjoy knowing that my hairdresser, Angel, was lying about being “excited” about the prospect of reading this blog (gestures did not match words).  It did not feel great when, upon returning from my appointment with Angel, a co-worker lied about liking what he did to my hair (horrified expression did not match compliment).  And I most definitely was not thrilled when a dinner date was recently cancelled because of a “late work meeting” (too much detail about what was to be discussed at meeting).

I long for the innocence of my easily misled days.

You know, the days before I could see right into the souls of all my friends and family and know immediately when they were bamboozling me?

So anyone want to grab a coffee? My schedule is pretty wide open these days.

Bottoms up! It’s Beer Can Chicken

Photo: L.Robb

Has any living creature ever had to endure more indignities than the chicken?

That’s the dark turn my thoughts have taken as I ram a beer can deep into the butt of a poor dead bird.  I insert it deep enough so that its wee body is balanced on the can, in a sitting position.  Its wings and legs are tucked by its sides in an attitude of anticipation.  It breaks my heart.  It could just as easily be waiting for a little bus to come by and pick it up.

My pity extends beyond the bird.  I also feel very sorry for myself.  I feel like the chicken and I are in a frat boy prank that has gone too far.  Never before have I been so sad around a can of beer.

Making matters worse is that I am gagging – a lot.  I have a weak stomach when it comes to meat preparation and removing the bird’s innards is almost too much for me.  With the bird propped up on its beer can butt plug and my retching noises, it is not shaping up to be a night of elegant dining.

The kicker is that I don’t even really like poultry. But yet, when someone suggested I review YouTube tutorials for beer can chicken, I jumped at it.

In retrospect, I think I only heard the word “beer.”

Sad picture

So that is why we are gathered here today around my barbecue to make a recipe that I have often heard described but have never sampled.  The dish goes by a number of different names on YouTube:  beer can chicken, chicken on a throne, cider butt chicken, beer in the rear chicken …  Whatever the name, they all paint the same sad, proctological picture.

Many of the YouTube tutorials have similar techniques with small differences.  Most chefs use the barbecue but others use the oven.  Some keep the beer can in the bird’s cavity while others use a receptacle that can be purchased at a barbecue supply store.  Everyone has a different variation on a spice rub recipe.

Where things can get loud and ugly is, surprisingly, the choice of beverage.  Some prefer the sweetness of cider, others insist that stout trumps all and many others opt for light beer.  The light beer fans acknowledge that what it lacks in flavour, it makes up for with its properties of evaporation.   My friend Bryce gives a fuller picture of the beer details.

I need a strong drink so I plunge ahead, literally, with a Stella Artois.  The most civilized part of this recipe is that you use only half of the can’s contents in the bird.  The rest goes down the chef’s gullet.   Ah sweet numbness, come envelop this poor sinner, this foe of fowl.  

Hee-Haw

Of the numerous beer can chicken tutorials I review, I think the one below is the best.   It is detailed and specific.  Granted, it is also a little off-putting with its hillbilly music, hee-haws and the narrator’s whiskey-thickened voice leering at the two chickens, “Let’s see these babies dance … oh man, oh yeah, look at these babies dance … they be a couple of dancing fools … oh sweet lord, yeah …”

The message is clear – this ain’t pheasant under glass.

But who am I to finger point? I lost all moral authority the moment I took can to bird.

The chicken gets his revenge, however.

As I disengage the beer can from its south end, I scorch my hands. It is much, much hotter than it looks on the video. I suggest you use tongs for safe removal.

My verdict on the taste of beer can chicken? It is definitely very good. Moist. And you can taste the beer.

I will have it again – at the next frat boy party I attend.

Raise Your Hand If You Hate Audience Participation

Since starting this blog, I have been struck by how many different tutorials are on YouTube.  Apparently, there is even one that shows you how to waterboard your enemies.

Yet, despite this wide spectrum, there continues to be desperately needed skills that remain instructionless.

So consider this post a call out for someone to create a tutorial video that shows people how to avoid being hauled on stage for audience participation.

Where is the best place to position yourself in a room where spectator involvement will play out?  Should you stand or sit?  Legs crossed or uncrossed?  Arms flailing or held stiffly to your side like a corpse?  What exact arrangement of facial features would best discourage the emcee from selecting you?  And most importantly, when is pulling the fire alarm the best option?

I would gladly give up my signed copy of Quiet: The Power of Introverts to know the answers to these vital questions.

For me, audience participation is not a pet peeve. It is a burning, scalding hatred.  I would knock the canes out from under an octogenarian if it hastened my escape from a room where people were being frogmarched on stage to demonstrate twerking.

I think I am in the vast majority.  Very, very few people enjoy being pulled onto a stage unexpectedly to demonstrate a skill they don’t possess in front of people they don’t know.

The Exceptional Connie

My friend, let’s call her Connie, is an exception. She never has to be dragged into the spotlight.  She sprints toward it.  All a presenter has to do is begin a sentence with “Are there any people out there who…” and she is waving her arms.  It amazes me. How can she be so sure that the sentence isn’t going to end with “… are currently being ravaged by an intractable yeast infection?”

Years ago, Connie and I went to the Universal Studios Theme Park in California. We visited an attraction where audience members were being recruited to participate in the recreation of a scene from 2001: A Space Odyssey. The idea was that a man and a woman would be suited up in astronaut gear with wires attached. The wires would lift them many, many feet above the audience and there they would glide gracefully overhead to music from the movie.

Not surprisingly, there were not many volunteers but, of course, Connie’s hands shot up.

The host explained there was a weight restriction as the cables could only carry so much heft around the room.  He stated the limit.

I knew approximately what Connie weighed.  Her hand would have to come down.  It remained up.  I looked meaningfully at her, but she stared resolutely ahead.

A small man was chosen and, with no other female volunteers, Connie’s zeal was rewarded.  She jumped from her chair and ran backstage to suit up.

I was stunned.  The woman would rather fall to her death than miss the opportunity to be the centre of attention?  I was already imagining the press conference where the coroner would announce: “Our investigation reveals that the decedent had no business being anywhere near the wires.  We are just fortunate that this spectacular indulgence of ego did not result in more deaths.  Respect the weight limits, people.”

In Her Element

I sat there, hoping to see her return shame-faced to her seat after being rejected by the technicians but no such luck.   As the pounding timpani of Strauss’s Also Sprach Zarathustra filled the theatre, out she floated. Even in a full astronaut suit, I could tell she was happy and in her element.

Nervously, I looked at the wires.  I didn’t see any fraying, from this angle, from this distance, so far.  At one point, she and the other astronaut soared over the audience.  I looked at the innocent faces around me as they waved happily to the space travellers circling above our fragile skulls.

Anyway, I am happy to report that nobody fell dramatically to their death that day and Connie has since gone on to live out many more days and nights of audience participation.  (Full disclosure: Connie is very slim these days and is my friend most likely to waft like a leaf in a strong breeze.)

But my point is that very few Connies live among us. Most of us don’t relish being the centre of an audience’s attention.

Most of us – and I am talking to you, Mr. Corey Hart – don’t like having microphones pushed into our faces while being ordered to sing the chorus of “Sunglasses at Night.”

Singing that song, sir, is your job. It is not mine.  The day that you pull up a seat in my cubicle and help me answer correspondence about quality management initiatives, well, only then might I consider humming a few bars.

Below Beyonce provides another example of why audiences should never be mistaken as performers.

Tie one on!

I have long maintained that a necktie vastly improves anybody’s appearance.  Young, old, male, female, or Katharine Hepburn, you are never going to look better in your life than the day you step out wearing a crisp Oxford shirt with a smart tie.  Add some cufflinks and, well, I am putty in your hands.  

There was a period in my twenties when I was known to rock the occasional cravat, but I always had to ask somebody to stand behind me and tie it.  This could be awkward on those mornings when nobody on the subway was in a helping mood.

Today, I learn to knot my own tie.

According to two math professors, there are 85 possible knot variations for the necktie.  That is all fine and Kama Sutra, but I just want to master a couple of the essentials.

My investigation reveals a plethora of instructional videos and solid, useful information is gleaned from several websites.  A click on this link will provide further direction about matching your wardrobe with the right tie.

I decide to go with the time-honoured Full Windsor (a.k.a. the Double Windsor) because it is a classic and the hardest knot to master.  Most video tutorials on tying a Windsor Knot are about two minutes long.  The one I like best is nearly six minutes.  Not a single detail is overlooked in this tutorial.

For example, pointing out that the seam of the tie should lie face down might get an eye roll from some viewers.  Not me.  I say “good to know.”  I need a picture painted and this guy below painted it for me.  (Don’t be put off by his strange hand puppetry.)

The Windsor is challenging but after the third rewind, I have the knot mastered.  The dimple, however, proves problematic.  The dimple is considered the finishing touch on the perfect tie as it adds a more textured look and the ideal drape.  Realizing the ultimate crease shall be an ongoing mission.

The blogger masters the Windsor knot.

As the Windsor is generally reserved for special occasions, what does a girl wear when running out to Sobey’s for milk?

Yup, you got it – the Four in Hand Knot.  I like its rakish, asymmetrical look.  It is said that British horsemen invented this type of knot when they were tying their scarves with one hand and holding the reins of four horses in the other.  I attempt the Four in Hand while pushing away a cat that is batting the long end of the tie like it is a dangling mouse.

I find a video that is easy to follow and again, fairly explicit. Compared to the Windsor, the Four in Hand is a breeze.  I do it on the first try and, yes, I look magnificent.  Like a young Katharine Hepburn.  Like a middle-aged Annie Hall.  Like Elaine Stritch.

Elaine Stritch (Photo by Bobby Bank/WireImage)

Ms. Death Becomes Phan of Beauty Guru

Michelle Phan is an American make-up artist, vlogger, and a millionaire entrepreneur.  She is also one of YouTube’s biggest celebrities, with 4.6 million followers.

Michelle’s fame came quickly.  Within a week of uploading her first make-up tutorial in 2007 – a how to on achieving a natural look –  it received 40,000 views.  It has now earned more than 10 million.

With Michelle’s help, make-up application has become the most sought-after skill on YouTube.

So, as a reviewer of YouTube instructional videos, this cosmetic craze is kinda staring me right in my blotchy little face.

But here’s the deal.  Make-up informs my life as much as anger management counselling informs Kanye West’s.  Sure, there’s a documented need and everyone knows  it would be a good thing – but hey …. mind your own  freakin’ business.

The odd time that I have applied cosmetics on myself, I was told that I used a heavy hand.

Some people asked if I used Tammy Faye Bakker’s hand.

No, I did not.  She is dead and buried.  And she probably took her hand with her.  Not so funny anymore, eh?

Like the late Ms. Bakker, I also have a hard time staying within the lines.  For her part, she might have asserted that limiting eye shadow to the orbital area was stifling to free expression.  As for me, I am just easily distracted.

Clearly, I am no van Gogh with the blush brush, but I take my task as YouTube reviewer seriously.  Pushing my misgivings  aside, I seek out  Michelle’s lessons.

After watching several videos, I decide, quite frankly, that I am not up for the job.  With my shaky hand, the result would definitely be more Jackson Pollock than Michelle Phan.

Although, my face will still be the canvas, I assign the job of artist to my friend, Steady-Hand Shenda.  This is a woman with many, many talents but her hand-eye coordination is the stuff of legend.  She could remove a splinter from a child’s foot, whilst giving a pill to a cat, and snowboarding down a mountain.  If anyone should be a YouTube sensation, it is Shenda.

In fact, I feel so confident in her abilities that I decide to be a bit more adventurous.  In honour of the coming holiday, I decide to have Shenda follow  one of Michelle’s popular Hallowe’en tutorials.

This year Michelle demonstrated something called “The Beautiful Death.”  She says it is inspired by the sugar skulls from the Day of the Dead in Mexico.

I like sugar. I like Mexico. This could work.

Oh, did I mention that Michelle is a 26-year-old woman with big, shiny Anime eyes and even skin tones?

Did I mention that I am not?

I will content myself with being The Adequate Death.

So pretty ambitious, eh?

I  also made Shenda’s job a wee bit trickier by buying the wrong paint colour.  I bought lavender paint instead of the light blue paint which Michelle very clearly specifies.  A silly mistake.  Did I tell you that I am easily distracted?

My friend  took it in stride, however.  And  in about an hour and half, her make up brush  had transformed me from death warmed over to The Beautiful Death.

Shenda reports that Michelle’s instructions were straight-forward and easy to follow.  She only wishes that they included the liberal sprinkling of glitter.  That woman is an absolute slave to glitter.

I was also happy with the results.  So pleased, in fact,  that I decided to adopt it as my new weekend look.  I am also going to wear this make-up at big family dinners.  Check out the video and let me know what you think.

Soul Train Wreck

Some might say that if you need a tutorial to learn how to moonwalk, you probably should not be doing it in the first place.

Well, I am not going to listen to my mom, or any of those other naysayers, because it looks like a whole lot of people have turned to YouTube to learn Michael Jackson’s signature move.  The moonwalk tutorial remains one of the most popular instructional videos online with more than 33 million hits.

Does that mean 33 million people know how to moonwalk?  I doubt it.  You’d see more people moonwalking in grocery aisles, on subway platforms and when exiting voting booths.  You don’t hide a talent like that away.  I certainly won’t.

I have been thinking for a while that I need to freshen my dance repertoire.  Some of the moves with which I dazzled my fellow concert-goers at the Police Picnic in 1981 have grown a bit stale. Yes, I know the moonwalk is not exactly new, hitting its zenith with Jackson’s performance on a Motown television special in 1983. Rest assured, I will make it virtually unrecognizable.

Many people attribute the moonwalk to Jackson but, it was not his invention.  People insist he is the one, but that kid is not his son.  Cab Calloway claimed the move was called “The Buzz” when he and others performed it in the 1930s.  In the 1940s, French mime Marcel Marceau premiered his “Walking Against the Wind” trick, pretending to be pushed backward by an imaginary gust of wind. 

When done correctly, the dance produces the illusion of walking forward while actually moving in the opposite direction.  To enhance the illusion, you swing your arms with every step, or mimic Jackson and hunch up your shoulders while clutching your hat.

I choose not to wear a hat.  To give the sense of forward motion, I am going to imagine that I am headed straight for the dessert table and some force – we’ll call her Jenny Craig – puts a finger in my belt loop and hauls me back.

The first rule of order is appropriate foot wear, specifically shoes that will glide over a smooth floor.  I wear socks instead.  My gym socks will make me look fluid and effortless, just like they do at the gym.

I’ve watched the tutorial’s directions a few times and they look simple enough.  Easy-peasy.  I am ready to put the moves into action.  At the risk of going all Soul Train on you, I am going to drop it like it’s hot.

I’m off to a strong start.  As instructed, my feet begin together and I pull my left foot back into the tiptoe position.  I’ve created the L shape.  The flat front foot remains on the ground and I slide it, ever so gracefully, past my tiptoe foot.  Now I lower my front foot down and raise the back foot into a tiptoe position.  Piece of cake.  But my triumph is tempered by a complete failure to perform these actions simultaneously.

The famous “snap” also proves maddeningly elusive.  Maybe you can’t snap with gym socks.

This is going to take practise.

I attempt to incorporate my arms into the walk.  They’ve just been hanging there, unsure of when to start reaching towards the dessert table.  They resist syncing with my other movable parts.  As my left leg slides back, my right arm should be striding ahead as though it has places to go, people to see, but my synapses are not firing fast enough.  Houston, we have a problem with the moon walk.

The blogger attempts to moon walk.

I begin to question my ability to walk at all.  How have I being doing it all these years?  Have I been walking like the Molly Shannon character on Seinfeld, the one Elaine said looked as if she was carrying invisible suitcases?  Good God, is that what I look like?

I feel a mood coming on. I move quickly to the computer, like it was a dessert table, and shut the mocking thing off.

“So, you just roll your hair like …”

I don’t know much about curling iron techniques, but this sweet young thing may know even less.  Her expression at 1:07, when she realizes that her ironing technique has cost her a thick hank of hair, is priceless.  I love that she uploaded this tutorial after her mishap.  She could do an instructional video about being a good sport.  Just keep her away from your hair.

How to Initiate Awkward, Painful Conversations YouTube-Style

When I decide that a relationship is over, I end it by looking sad.  You know – the downcast eyes at dinners, the repeated sighs of resignation on road trips.  After a  few years of that kind of behaviour, believe me, the message is received, loud and clear.

For  the more forthright amongst us, there are YouTube tutorials that can  instruct on the best way to break up with someone through the initiation of conversation.

Although presented in different ways, the tenets espoused in all the videos are the same – be clear, be firm, don’t give false hope, don’t cast blame, acknowledge the pain.

Now, I don’t currently have anyone to break up with, but I do need to get better at dealing with painful conversations.  I decide to adhere to the principles in these tutorials to initiate awkward, conflict-ridden discussions  with friends, family and co-workers.

First up: My Boss

Me (being clear):  I no longer wish to have a performance appraisal.  I will, however, accept a raise and maybe a little extra to make Christmas a bit merrier, if you know what I mean.

Boss:  I don’t, really.

Me (being firm): I don’t want my PA this year.  I no longer wish to be judged.  I am at a different stage of my life now.

Boss:  PAs are not about being judged.  They are opportunities to identify areas of improvement…

Me (not casting blame):  Listen, there ain’t no good guy, there ain’t no bad guy, there’s only you and me and we just disagree.

Boss:  First of all, stop singing.  Second of all, performance appraisals are both mandatory and helpful.  And lastly, you are making me late for a meeting.

Me (not giving false hope):  Well, then you  should know that I won’t enjoy it.  I may even cry a little bit throughout it.

Boss: Suit yourself.

I leave her office before I can hear her heart shatter.  No doubt, just the first heart broken in what promises to be a long line of heartbreak.

Next Up:  Office Manager

Me (being clear):  I need a new desk chair. This one has lost its magic. That frisson of excitement is gone.

OM:  You just got this chair three months ago.  After you broke the arm off of the other one.

Me (casting away any efforts not to cast blame):  Well, isn’t it just like you to change history?   You make it sound like I hacked the arm off  the chair with a machete.  It flew off while I was typing furiously.  It’s lucky that I was not seriously injured.

OM: You’ve reached your chair quota for the year. Besides, you said you liked this chair.  You said it seemed to understand your body more than any other chair ever had.

Me: I was faking. Just to please you.

OM: Well, you are just  going to have to keep on faking.

Me: Then I have no choice but to pretend that it is another chair.

OM: Fill your boots.

Me: I acknowledge your pain.

Next Up: 12-Year-old Nephew

Me:  Are we growing apart, Mackenzie?  We don’t do fun things together like we used to do.

Nephew ignores me because he is playing with his iPad.

Me:  Our relationship has grown as stale as the bread that those Angry Birds eat.  No wonder they are so angry.  Kenz, have we become angry birds?  Are we all chirp and no cheep?  Have we lost the connection?

Nephew continues to play with his iPad.

Me: I can’t talk anymore. I am going to just sit here and bite back my tears.

Nephew finally looks up.  I have his attention.

Nephew: How do you bite back tears?

Me: It’s easy. I’ve been doing it all week. Let me show you.

There you  go – proof that painful conversations can be fruitful. Thanks, YouTube.

Orchids, Castration and The Nutcracker

Recently, I asked some friends about their YouTube tutorial experiences.  These are their stories:

No more drowning: Carolyn holds her healthy orchid.

Carolyn

To anyone who knows her, Carolyn is a nurturing person.  You could, however, forgive all the orchids that she has snuffed for thinking otherwise.

“I was given an orchid for my birthday this year.  Having killed several of them previously, I went on YouTube to get some help.  I watched how to appropriately water.  Apparently, I’m an overwaterer,” she admitted.

The video also taught Carolyn how to clip yellow leaves and repot the orchid to avoid a future horticultural crisis.

Mercifully, if none of this takes seed, Carolyn has agreed to restrict herself to cacti.

Catherine

Sometimes, a YouTube tutorial can dissuade one from acquiring a particular skill.  This was Catherine’s experience.

Catherine was contemplating castrating her randy rooster Richard but, before digging in, she prudently checked out YouTube to see exactly what was involved.

“This video ‘how to’ saved me from even attempting this particular little chore, which I was seriously considering undertaking,” said Catherine.

“I really didn’t know how it was done but thought … how hard can it be?”

Well, Catherine was kind enough to share the video with me.  It will now be a long, long time before I am able to forget exactly how hard it is to caponize a cock.

Unlike mammals, a cock’s testicles lie deep within its body cavity – where a rooster might presume they would be safely out of harm’s way.

Because the testicles are buried so deeply, next to the spine, one must make precise cuts within the abdomen. Once a small opening is created, a string is looped around the cock’s testicles and both ends of the string are pulled (imagine a flossing technique) until the testicles emerge from the body.

Another cock becomes a capon.  Another viewer becomes a vegetarian.

Fortunately for Richard, the amount of surgical precision needed deterred Catherine from attempting the emasculation.

“In the end, Richie went on to grand service … intact,” she reported.

Richard is still cock of the walk. Here, he is held by his proud steward, Lucas (Catherine’s son).

Jeff

…. And now drumroll.

Jeff is an amateur orchestral percussionist who has banged the drums for various symphonies.  He uses YouTube to play instruments with which he is less familiar and could use some coaching on.  He also uses YouTube to look at the way other performers play excerpts.

“Last year, I had to pay the tambourine part for several movement of Tchaikovsky’s Nutcracker.  I found some GREAT examples of ways to perform these pieces online,” he said.

Jeff keeps the beat.

So there you go. People using YouTube to benefit their lives.

I will post more of my friends’ experiences with YouTube tutorials at a later time.   In the meantime, let me know how YouTube tutorials have enriched your life – or the life of your rooster.