Labeling

So I'm attacking another one of my "must write about" topics today and I decided to hit up a short one.  (You saw how long the engagement piece was and I just don't want to bore my small, but hopefully entertained audience to death!).  So here we are. . . let's talk labeling.

I'm not talking about the people kind of labeling because while I would like to get on an emotionally-charged, "this is good for humanity" soapbox where I tell how it's wrong to judge other people, the other side of that soapbox would have a giant tag that says "A hypocrite stands here" and I'm just not ready for that kind of ridicule or commitment; if I write about not labeling people, I'd certainly have to remove it from my list of "favorite bad things to do" and I'm just not at a point where I can stop yet.  So, you can stop feeling like this is going to be a guilt blog right. . . . now.  Moving on.

I'm talking about literal labeling - you know those little machines that print out labels, those ones that are basically like crack by way of addiction and like Costco by way of justification (can't you justify buying just about anything in bulk when you go into Costco?  "Well who wouldn't need a 10 year supply of hot pockets?" or "Of course mascara should only be sold in a 50 gallon drum.  I can refill. . .").  Once the labels start coming out, you think you have to label everything and it's a cold day in Phoenix before you can stop.

This all came to a head the other day when I was at work and noticed that the three utensil holders on the table all had labels on them, instructing the user (myself) which utensil I was about to use.  Right then then question came into my mind "Which comes first - knowing what a fork is or knowing how to read the word 'fork'?"  (It's an age-old mystery. . . just like the chicken and the egg.)  I would assume that most people can recognize a fork before they know how to read the word, yes?  Fair assumption?

I think that in cases like this, labeling just doesn't do it for me.  I can look down into the container and see what's in in just as fast as reading the front.  So, I pose the question to the masses: Is this labeling necessary?

I feel like it would be like me placing a label on my screen that says "computer".  Yep, sure is.  Or a label on the big brown block of wood at the entrance to our office that says "door".  Are we learning English?  Isn't it recognizable for what it is?

I respect labeling solid containers that you don't want to sift through for a certain holiday decoration or winter clothes but only if the contents aren't readily available for your perusal anyway.  When you start labeling clear totes or kitchen utensils, I start thinking that you were just bored and needed something to label. . . other than your neighbor (OK, you didn't really think I'd get through this entire blog without a little labeling guilt/humor, did you?  Oh you did?  That's cute. . .)

I tell you what, these label makers are like drugs (so I hear) or chocolate (so I know).  I'm actually surprised that I don't walk into more "organized" houses with labels on the cupboards in the kitchen - here are the cups, here are the forks, here are. . . wait a minute.  This actually sounds convenient!  Where is that label maker. . . .