It was about 7AM when I saw the tweet. I was closing down my Twitter and Facebook to return to the seething build up that's going on -- and not looking forward to it this morning. My head ached, from lack of sleep, I was overly cranky -- for several related reasons -- and honestly I was in one of those, 'don't fu*&ing do it man' moods. Then I saw the tweet. A flash really as I closed down the Twitter. I caught two words, 'Nightmare' and 'LEGO'. I also recognized the source, so I knew the context. With a new click I brought the Twitter back up to find out what the full message was.
To be honest, I had already decided that I didn't like it, and that it was inline with several of the messages and campaigns I've been coming across. Reading the text I did exactly what I tell people never to do -- I didn't follow through or check the story. After the night I had and the sources I had read for the twelve hours before that -- I "knew" what was going on and responded in kind. Recognizing the sender account didn't help. It added an under tow of betrayal to the mix and just for future reference, that mix is never a good one to be making decisions on -- although I can't picture anyone not doing so -- there's nothing more stimulating to knee jerk response than justifiable anger.
Two more relevant facts were in my mind as I reread the Tweet. One, is that LEGOs was practically the founder of non-gender specific marketing. They started this back in the late 70s. I recall it because my younger sister saw one of the ads and instantly wanted a full set of building blocks. At the time I wasn't that interested -- I had a new set of JARTS -- I still can't believe that my parents thought that what a seven year old needed was a set of iron javelins. It never crossed my mind at the time that building blocks were "boy toys" or rather NOT girl toys. What Sandra did with those blocks was amazing to me. I never could get them to become what was in my head, and she created whatever she wanted to create with an ease that was disturbing to me. I could throw those JARTS though, so it was all good -- except for the neighbor's 1967 Corvette it was all good...