At the end of each MSNBC YouTube video right now they have a 30 second post-roll of Ali Velshi explaining the 5-step process on how to install the new MSNBC app.

1. Tap on the App Store on your phone
2. Hit “Search” on the bottom right corner
3. Type in “MSNBC”
4. Click on the MSNBC app
5. Click on “Get” or the cloud icon

There’s an implied sixth step where you need to actually open the newly installed app. Opening the app for the first time you swipe through a little slideshow that has two more (optional) steps: give your email and turn on notifications. Standard engagement economy tactics.

Hearing the 5-step native app install process a few times a day makes me think we lost something along the way. Remember when the call to action was to visit a URL? Not only is “Visit msnbc.com” more succinct, catchier, private, less prone to user error, and immune to competitive advertisements but it also doesn’t require a paid presenter to coach you through it. Once upon a time users might have needed Ali Velshi’s help getting to a website, but in my experience visiting a website is one of the first computing skills my kids learned without my direct involvement. The URL isn’t a foreign concept anymore.

I know I’m making a mountain out of a “We just want to promote our new app, maaan” molehill here, but even saying “Visit msnbc.com/mobile” with a redirect to their actual app download page would be easier. It boggles my mind why you’d push a clunky app store install flow over a five-letter domain name. I’d even bet $5 that the “native app” is actually a bunch of web views in a trench coat. In an even wilder twist, that app download page isn’t linked anywhere on the website! Ughck. I’m 0% invested on what’s happening over at MSNBC but I’m already getting whiffs of misaligned goals, interdepartmental strife, and poorly designed content management systems.

Anyways, websites. They’re old tech but still work great from time to time.

I bought a 40 pound weighted vest for $40 dollars on Amazon. The workout term for this is “rucking” and has connotations with being outdoorsy and/or in the military. Load up a backpack full of weights (or in my case, a vest full of sand bags) and head outdoors. The marketing benefits of rucking sound great:

• It is simple and anyone can do it
• Gets you outside
• Active Resistance Training™️
• Burns up to 3x more calories than walking
• Good for your back and improves your posture
• Good for your mental health

A neighbor friend of mine (that’s also a physical therapist) has one and she recommended it. My body is adept at carrying heavy objects¹, so this seems like an easy way to squeeze out some gains from my regular walks. Bonus points that it gets me outside and gets rid of my developer hunch. After a handful of walks, I’m enjoying the vest and –as expected– my body handles the weight fine but it’s sweatier and hills knock the wind out of me a bit more.

There’s an army fetish around rucking. It’s hard to tell if that’s fragile male ego in workout culture or if it’s because an armored plate carrier is a well-tested and efficient way to carry weight. My vest doesn’t look that masculine and looks more like I duct taped C4 to my chest. With my uni-bomber glasses, long hair, beard, and resting scowl I don’t need more help looking like a disgruntled domestic terrorist but I suppose this completes the look. If I can sustain the $40 fix, then I’ll upgrade to the $200 plate vest solution.

The cynical side of me wonders if this is more skinny people shit. As I dawn the weighted vest, the irony is not lost on me I used to be about the same amount of weight heavier. Being heavy never helped me lose weight. No one gives you an approving head nod for walking while fat, but velcro a little vest to your torso and people give you the “good for you” pity eyes.

Putting my optimist hat back on, it might work this time. Maybe this is the one weird trick my body needs to activate dormant caveman genetics that will unleash my inner Adonis. Walking in hard mode seems sustainable for the time-being and I can already feel my ass morphing into a perfect badonkadonk.

“You know those body builders with the big arms and skinny little legs? Your jaw is like that.”

My dentist is explaining this to me while both her hands are inside my mouth clenching the left and right sides of my jaw. She explains that my right jaw muscle is three times larger than the left. I glurk in agreement that the right side of my jaw does seem to be more problematic, it’s not uncommon for it to make a horrifying pop each morning. Her prescription: a mouthguard for clenching my teeth at night.

“I could sell you a $700 mouthguard that takes two weeks to fit but unless you know you’re going to be the kind of person that sleeps with a mouthguard, you should just buy one on Amazon first.”

I like my dentist’s office. It’s holistic in the sense they care for the whole mouth, not just the teeth bits. It could be my crappy insurance but they’re not concerned with upsells either. And I love the idea of prototyping with a low-fidelity solution first. So I followed their advice and got the Liquid Death of mouthguards and for ~$25 it’s been a pretty big life upgrade.

1. No jaw pain when I wake up.
2. No more snoring.
3. Deeper sleep.
4. Less getting up in the middle of the night.

All those benefits from sticking a little chunk of chewy plastic in my mouth every night. I assumed putting an obstruction in my mouth would have the opposite effect, make snoring louder or wake me up choking on my own saliva, but nope! I guess I am a mouthguard person. While this won’t cure my nighttime RBF, it will hopefully prevent some of the lopsided side effects.