Sometimes you come check out the blog and notice, “Hey! This blog post has nothing to do with web design! What gives?” And, my guy, today is one of those days.
Because here’s the thing. You’re probably not going to hire me because I’m the most technically flawless, certificate-wielding, jargon-slinging web designer on the planet. You’re going to hire me because something about me just clicks for you. That’s the sticky stuff (some would call it ‘the glue’). When people click, they want to do good work together.
OK, now that that's out of the way...
This blog post is about Monster Jam.
Yes. Monster Jam. The loud, dusty, roaring truck circus of chaos.
Remember a couple of weeks ago when I mentioned that we found this quirky streaming channel for martial arts movies called Hi-YAH!? Well. My husband, not to be outdone, has recently found a streaming channel that is All. Monster Jam. All. The. Time.
And truth be told, I should be grateful. The man is not a sports guy. Never has been. There was one weird blip when we first moved to Texas where he pretended to be into football. Got irrationally upset when he couldn’t watch the “big game.” That was short-lived, thank god.
These days, we don’t do whatever-night football. We watch the Super Bowl for snacks and socializing. And if we’re at a party, you can find him in the kitchen with the ladies, talking about life and carbs. He is, for all intents and purposes, your 1950s American housewife.
BUT… he loves Monster Jam.
Goes every year. Took me once. I got a headache. Absolutely miserable.
And now that he’s found this streaming channel, he can watch it any time he wants. So far, he hasn’t called in sick to binge the world championship or whatever, but every time he turns it on, I silently groan and die a little inside.
Not because I don’t want to hang with him. I’m down to sit beside him. But he insists on narrating it. He gets moody if I’m reading or working or googling “ways to delete app from TV.” And the whole time I’m just thinking, why doesn’t he get that I will never care about Monster Jam?
Never.
And the thing I hate most? The pink trucks.
The lady drivers have pink “girl” trucks to show that Monster Jam is for the gals too. As if painting a 12,000-pound engine baby pink is supposed to make me feel seen. Like when they market pink razors “just for women.” Ugh. Get the fuck out of here with that. Because the "Pink Tax" is real and you can read about it 👉here.
Although, full disclosure, I was talking to a friend about this and she said, “Oh, I love Monster Jam and the pink trucks are my favorite!” So friends, it’s quite possible that I am in the minority here.
Anyway, this one was about Monster Jam. But really it’s about marriage. And marketing. And mildly tolerating the things your person loves while muttering under your breath.
And of course, if you find you need a website, a refresh, or a website audit to see why your current one isn’t doing what you need it to do — let me know. I promise not to make it pink and charge you 42% more for it.
Thanks for reading. ✌️
