Quick Thoughts and Nonsense

Random Observations VII No Witty Subtitle

2010-11-19T21:22:00.002-05:00

Yes, I know what you’re thinking, “Didn’t we just have one of these?” You would be very correct. But I have so many odd stories I’ve found recently, and in the past year plus, coupled with an overwhelming deluge of random thoughts running through my bean that I need to shuffle them out. Sometimes I think my head feels funky because of the backlog. So let’s clear the baffles and take a gander at our weird, wonderful planet. As always, this is your world.

Let’s kick it off with this little gem I found a while ago. The second I saw it one thought ran through my mind. No wonder I don’t like going to work.

Ok, my cat sometimes acts like a nut job too, going on tears through the house or screaming at the top of the steps. Someone explain to this Cro-Magnon man that if you want to calm the cat, feed it and it will do what cats do naturally. Go take a nap. I’d ask why he thought this would be a good idea, but I think it’s rather obvious. Stay in school kids.

Is it just me, or does anyone else out there want to punch Justin Case in the face? He just seems so smug.

Did I miss a memo? Since when did sex stop selling no matter the product?

The perpetrators in this story get high marks for originality; I mean who thinks of forcing someone to eat his own beard? Was that a deleted scene from Se7en? But they lost all credibility and belong in the slammer not for assault, but for stupidity. Who pays $250 for a used lawnmower? I’ve been to Lowe’s, you can buy a new one for less.

I do feel bad for the guy who had to eat his own beard though. It will severely impact his registration for Beard Team USA. Come on, you know you want to see the Rollie Fingers mustache make a comeback.

Another blast from the past I could not pass up. I know some directors want realism in their films, but this seems to be a bit much. If this had happened on a Michael Bay movie, the guy probably would have turned himself in.

I wonder what my skull looks like, especially since when the time comes when it will be accessible, I will be decidedly unable to see it. And no, x-rays do not count. Does anyone else think about this?

As if my illogical distain for Beantown was not fuelled enough by their NFL team, I find this odd article. Something tells me Norm and Cliff never had to reserve their seats.

For those readers who, well, like to read, here’s a fascinating link. Be prepared to lose a few hours perusing through the articles. It can become addictive quite fast.

Are you planning on going to the London Olympics? Then feel good you will be able to interact with a multitude of cultures without setting off an international incident.

I still don’t care what the astronomy community says; Pluto will always be a planet to me. I’m with ya distant little buddy!

To paraphrase a classic movie speech: Imagine you're a deer. You're prancing around. You get thirsty. You spot a little brook. You put your little deer lips down to the cool, clear water - BAM. A fuckin' bullet rips off part of your head. Your brains are lying on the ground in little bloody pieces. Now I ask you, do you give a fuck what kind of ammunition the son-of-a-bitch who shot you was using?

Hey, I recycle more than most, averaging a big bag of recycling every week. I work to reuse things until they can be used no more. I turn off lights in rooms no one is in and reuse the same glass as to not dirty new ones and create more dishes. But I draw the line at hot showers on cold mornings. I’ll give those up as soon as big wig environmentalists stop traveling to environmental events in private planes, which are a much bigger problem than me taking an extra few minutes to wake up in the morning.

This still cracks me up. I wonder if she were referring to talking to him like he was the idiot boy hired for odd jobs around the house. Will she ever stop pimping those kids?

Call me old fashioned, but I will always hold dear to email, despite what Facebook says. These new fangled kids with their texting and their twitting, bah humbug I says!

Why am I hearing the Magnum P.I. theme on a mascara commercial? Why does it feel so very wrong?

I loved this story earlier this year. It’s just an amazing tale of survival, determination and the will of the human spirit. But knowing our world, I must say I’m surprised Coleman has not come out with a new survival cooler.

Has anyone seen Sarah Palin’s Alaska? I have not, but I love how she claims in the ads she’d rather be out there in Alaska than in some stuffy political office. Yet even as she says that, she is also talking about a potential presidential run in 2012. And now she has a new book out where she blasts American Idol and their untalented contestants, as her untalented daughter clodhops on Dancing With The Stars. Yeesh, why do I know about these people and their lives?

You know what; there is a satisfaction that comes from doing something for yourself. I think we've forgotten that in our society.

A Star Wars comedy show with Seth Green prominently involved? Hey count me on board, I still laugh at the special Robot Chicken Star Wars episodes. But I think this writer is nuts. If he thinks this is the worst Star Wars related media idea, obviously he does not remember the Star Wars Holiday Special very well.

I think this is the final proof needed to track the entomology of the phrase, “busy as a beaver.” Move over, Great Wall of China!

This is sad, and a definite end of an era in television and film production. I watching television shows that said Filmed in Technicolor. Boy the world surely does move on from the past faster now.

I would like to bring up a small linguistic point that has been bugging me for some time. The slang for refrigerator is f-r-i-d-g-e and not f-r-i-g. Frig is a slang curse word and when you use it, you could completely change the meaning of your message in very odd ways. Just tryin’ to help.

Here’s another oldie, but too good to pass up. I know I’ve had a few bad drive thru orders in the past, but calling 911? Do we need to sit people down and explain once again that 911 is for actual emergencies and not perceived ones?

Tron Legacy? Really? Who was clamoring for this film other than this guy?

And finally, I leave you with this piece of advice. The first rule of lady fight club is you do not tell the cops about lady fight club. My one question from this article is why did she want them to fight? It makes my head hurt.

Lost In Time

2010-11-05T22:02:00.000-04:00

I saw this recent article about Willow Smith, the nine year old with the hot new song. To say I had zero surprise this was the offspring of uber celebrities Will Smith and Jada Pinkett Smith would be an understatement. Celebrity children tend to follow their parents into the family business. But it bothered me that she is doing it at such a young age.

I kept thinking as I read the article, what kind of childhood is this for a little girl? She should be playing with Barbie dolls, not laying down vocal tracks. She shouldn’t be doing the talk show circuit, but playing dress up with friends. Where are all the moments she’ll remember fondly when she has kids of her own, like tea parties or story time, getting to stay up late for the first time or even sleeping in? Her memories will be of celebrity parties, and she’ll have to stay up late and stories will be about sleazy agents and demanding record companies. That’s no way for a child to grow up.

But the more I thought about it, the more I reminded myself that everyone has different experiences in life, and those experiences make us unique and interesting to others. And since she is growing up in a very different environment than I did, perhaps this is normal for her. Normal, after all, is a very relative term when it comes to life experiences.

But as I pondered how different life experiences shape us, and started mentally strolling through some of mine, I hit upon a stunning revelation, at least for me. The article did not have an impact on me because I had a real issue regarding her supposed lost childhood. It struck me because I found myself missing my own.

The thoughts of childhood and those fumbling teenage years brought back many a warm memory. Sure, more than a few embarrassing, awkward or sad ones filtered in as well. But mostly I felt myself feeling warm and happy, reliving past joys, fun experiences and laughing at myself through the panes of time as I saw the fumbling mistakes only one of youth and inexperience can make.

And as I reveled in those warm memories, something dawned on me. I finally began to understand why and how people get stuck in the past. It’s not that they do not like, or understand, society as it stands today. But rather the things of the past, such as music, television, movies, technology or a variety of other things act as physical markers in time to help transport them back to times filled with innocence, joy, discovery and happiness before the realities of the world dulled everything.

As an example, growing up I could never understand why my parents loved to listen to just, well what was considered at the time, oldies music. Now mind you, thanks to their love of classic rock and roll and pop, I developed a great taste for those tunes, and a better appreciation of all kinds of different musical genres. But to just listen to that music seemed odd to me. In my opinion, there were all kinds of good music coming out every day, and many other great songs, artists and albums that came out long after the music of their choice. I chalked it up to them just being stuck in the past, and I vowed to never let that happen to me.

But my realization showed me my parents weren’t stuck in the past, well maybe a little bit, and it’s not that they did not like any current music. But that music was part of their formative years as young adults. It helped convey them to a time in their lives they felt strongly about, and made them feel good. It is a marker to memories of their lives.

I know, how it took me this many years to figure out such a simple truth to the human experience is beyond me as well. But perhaps I just needed to gain some knowledge and wisdom of having a few years under my own belt for it to truly dawn on me. To have other markers transport me back as well and realize I am doing the same thing I vowed never to do.

Now, mind you I still listen to some current music. But not with anything approaching the voracity I once did. And more often than not, I tend to gravitate toward songs and artists that I once had high on the play lists of my youth or ones nowadays that remind me of favorites from the past. And if truth be told, I do not listen to music everyday like I once did. I love my Ipod, but I mostly use it when I’m doing outdoor lawn grooming.

And see, that statement sums it up. I fully embrace modern society but still cherish and relish those past markers that mean so much to me. Often I wish I had an Ipod when I listened to music constantly. But instead I had a string of Walkmans, ever present on my person. When I recently heard Sony is no longer making the product, I felt a bit nostalgic and sad. Thinking of Walkmans made me think of running to class in college, tunes blasting loud enough to shake loose mortar, or rocking out doing homework in high school during a break from my fast food job. It was a marker in time for me, and clearly brought into focus memories from my past.

As people get older they do not eschew current fads, trends, music and the latest and greatest because they do not like it. They do it because time is no longer a luxury. Commitments, responsibilities, career and family take the place of those once dearly held things. And no matter how good a song is, or how moving a movie may be, none will have the same emotional impact upon you as one that you heard or saw during that fresh time in your life when you were first discovering the world and growing up. It’s why we hold those things dear, and how we get “stuck in the past.”

Like most people today, I enjoy the modern conveniences our world has to offer. I love being able to check the weather, read email and look up information on the fly all from my Smartphone. And how amazing is it to watch anything on an HD television, with such clarity of picture and graphics and animation one never thought possible? But I miss the simple pleasure of tuning into one of the three big stations early in the morning, huddling around to see if I would get a free snow day as the crude graphics scrolled on the bottom of the screen or hanging around the kitchen to talk to friends on the wall mounted rotary phone. Ha, it was a big deal when we got a button phone, now my phone is a touch screen. Although, I have found that I am not the only one with a nostalgic feeling toward telephones, or with a love for modern technology.

As technology, and the world at large, moves forward and bigger and more fantastical things come into our lives, more of what was once so important to me and I held dear moves further into the past. This is not a mind blowing revelation, as it has happened to every creature that has walked the earth since the dawn of time. But for me, now I understand better why people hold onto the past.

There is comfort there, things make a little more sense, you see the mistakes you once made and the triumphs that made you feel on top of the world. Who you once were is there, young, idealistic and hopeful. It’s sweet and innocent and tinted just the right shade of rose so everything looks fantastic.

Perhaps the approaching holidays make me nostalgic, or perhaps I’m just a bit tired of fighting just to get by. But I wouldn’t mind spending a few days back when all I had to worry about is whether my galoshes would survive another sledding season, and not that I need to take the trash out before going to work.

The Best Rewatchable Cable Movies

2010-10-29T21:15:00.002-04:00

It’s a lazy Saturday afternoon. You find yourself procrastinating on chores, not in the mood to read, and really not compelled to go out and adventure. So what do you do with yourself? Why not scan the cable channels for 2 hours of cinematic entertainment?

Cable regularly fills time by rerunning some of Hollywood’s greatest, and not so great, cinematic treasures. But how do you choose? Do you pick a classic film from the golden age of Hollywood? Perhaps you choose a stout drama full of Oscar worthy performances? Or maybe even a lighthearted comedy that looked whimsical when it first hit theaters? All good choices, but usually most of us just tune in something we’ve already seen a dozen times.

Why? Perhaps it’s the comfort of a movie we’ve already seen, or maybe even a story we connect with. But I believe it’s because it’s a good, cheesy fun flick that allows us to turn off the synaptic relays and revel in the fun.

So what defines a good rewatchable movie? What key elements go into 2 plus hours of edited for television fun? Luckily for you, the reader, I, the viewer, have logged more than a few lazy afternoons scrolling through the on screen guide looking for theatrical jackpots. I’ve determined a few key criteria and ranked the best of the most frequently replayed flicks to help you decide for the next time nothing but a movie will do.

A. – Cheese Factor:

How cheesy is this movie? Just like a good block of Gouda, the more the better. Do you find yourself howling at the improbability of the story or perhaps the action? Is the dialogue unintentionally hilarious? Is the casting all wrong? Bingo, you found a winner.

B. – Supporting Cast:

Ok, obviously we tune into these oft viewed theatrical pleasures because they usually are helmed by A list stars. But what about everyone else? Does it have one guy who just steals every scene by cracking everyone up? Does it have a saucy dame who draws the spotlight toward her? If so, it sounds like gold to me.

C. – Hey it’s that guy/gal!:

Think of the last movie you watched. There comes a scene and you see an actor come onto the screen. You’ve seen him or her in dozens of films, and it’s always a stellar performance but you can never remember their name. Yup, it’s that guy/gal! The film gets bonus points if that guy/gal turns out to be Michael Biehn.

D. - Quotable:

This one is rather self explanatory. Do you lay the lines on your friends when you’re busting each others chops, even though the movie could be 15 years old or more? When you quote a line do random people respond with the next line? Then it’s quotable. Think any golfer on the links and Caddyshack. That’s your quotability factor.

E. - That’s so old!

This sounds like an insult, but it’s actually an ultra compliment. We’re not looking for something dated that looks bad, like Tron, but rather does the film remind you of a specific time period? Does watching it bring back nostalgic feelings of that period in your life? Do you smile thinking of friends you watched it with, all piled on a couch and laughing or gasping all at once? Does it still hold up after numerous years and fad changes? That’s a winner then.

F. – But it’s on cable!?!:

The cable factor is important. Before watching any film edited for television, it must pass muster with a few key questions. One, will you still watch it even though they’ve taken out any incidental nudity? Two, will you still watch it with all the possible gore/gigantic explosions removed? Three, will it still be palatable without any swears? This one is particularly important, because watching Pulp Fiction or most Kevin Smith movies on cable are exercises in futility without the curse words. Four, is it worth your time to invest 2 plus hours on a film cut up to accommodate commercial breaks. And five, if you stumble onto the film by accident, will it cause you to immediately stop surfing and settle in, no matter how far along the film is? If the answer to these questions is yes, then grab your popcorn.

G: - Rewatchability Factor:

This is key and perhaps the most important criteria of them all. You’ve seen the movie, you know the characters, the story, the plot twists, everything. But were they intriguing enough to watch them over and over? Sometimes, yes and other times, well, once was more than enough.

Now without further ado I present….

The Top Twenty

20. - Con Air – Super cheesy, lots of action, a great that guy in Colm Meaney and some decent quotes. But Nicholas Cage’s terrible straggly wig and weird accent detracts after multiple viewings.

19. – Twister – Ultra cheese factor, with more than a few oh come on! moments (think flying cows), plus an unknown Phillip Seymour Thomas, who I’m sure does not include this on his resume. But the big question remains, did this kill Helen Hunt’s career?

18. - Castaway – Great film, a Tom Hanks gem but not much happens. While worth viewing, the film loses points due to its length without commercials thus increasing your time commitment. Plus I tend to find myself doing other things when it’s on, relegating it to the background until he escapes the island. Although it gets an A for quotes with “WILSON I’M SORRY!”

17. – Independence Day – Wooden acting and excellent special effects rule this flick. Great secondary actors with Brent Spiner as the wacky scientist and Judd Hirsch as the cranky Jewish dad steal and chew scenes one after another. But watching a Mac laptop, before the internet really exploded, suddenly able to connect to an alien host computer drops this film fast.

16. - The Rock – This film has almost everything, and one can even live without some of the action and cursing. But it’s a bit too cheesy, and too unbelievable. Who really believes a nerdy Cage is winning a hand to hand fight with a marine? Plus, after a while it loses its power in multiple viewings. Although Sean Connery does chew the scenery with aplomb.

15. – Steel Magnolias – A film worth watching just for Olympia Dukakis alone. She seems to be on the inside of a joke the entire film, but we never really know what it is. Unfortunately it kind of falls apart at the very end and occasionally makes you think, didn’t Terms of Endearment do this better? No matter, anyone would give their eye teeth to take a whack at Weezer.

14. - Old School - Hilarity ensues with this great R rated comedy. Toning it down for cable viewing hurts it tremendously, despite a plethora of quotable lines. Most notably the opening wedding scene with an edited The Dan Band takes the humor out of that entire scene. But Vince Vaughn still translates well. And it’s still worth watching Jeremy Piven and Craig Kilborn get theirs in the end. You’re my boy, Blue!

13. – Apollo 13 – Hmmm, Tom Hanks again, is that a theme here? Excellent with reminding of a time period, portraying 1970’s America when the space program had relevancy. Plus despite knowing the outcome, I still get nervous when they go past the 3 minute mark for communication blackout. And, it has Clint Howard, although by now he’s past that guy status.

12. - Romy and Michele’s High School Reunion – Ok, I’m a total sucker for this movie. Sorvino and Kudrow crack me up every time and Alan Cumming is fantastic as the uber successful nerd who still loves Michele. Plus, I’m sure everyone can relate to being dissed, and wishing to show up, the A crowd. Although lack of quotability does hurt the film.

11. - Caddyshack – Almost too easy to pick this one. Wickedly funny, great cast and a tornado of a supporting role by Rodney Dangerfield land this film on the list. This film gave us thankfully Back to School, and unfortunately Lady Bugs, thanks to Dangerfield’s stellar work. But it loses points over the years thanks to everyone quoting it all the time, anywhere. The line, “It’s in the hole!” takes away from the movie when nimrods use it on a mini golf course. And yes, I am one of the nimrods to blame for that.

10. - Wedding Crashers – Yeah, I know, it suffers the same fate as Old School regarding language and nudity, which drops it to this spot on the list. But Vince Vaughn is a tour de force, and Bradley Cooper plays such a fantastic jerk you cheer when he gets slugged at the end. And Jane Seymour? Meow! I’ll call her kitty cat any day.

9. – The Fugitive – Who would have thought this film based on a forgotten TV show would be so good? Great rewatchability factor, some good quotes, and Tommy Lee Jones just stealing this movie right out from under lead star Harrison Ford.

8. – Die Hard – Great film and reinvented the action genre by steering away from super buff guys to your everyday guy, Bruce Willis. But the cable factor kills it. It’s not the same with some of the action and swears removed. Quotability is super high, but once again some of the best lines contain curse words. Plus increasingly ridiculous sequels watered down the original.

7. – Predator – Now how can a cheesy action film from the 80’s that features two future governors not be on this list? It’s difficult to watch this film without getting splashed by the testosterone that gushes from this flick. There’s not too much swearing to take out, and the action holds up well. This movie was so good; they’re still making bad sequels.

6. – The Goonies – If you were a kid who had a vivid imagination, you played out this movie in your back yard long before it hit theaters, only missing the gemstones at the end. Who didn’t want to be a goonie afterward? Plus, it has a young Josh Brolin! Sloth love Chunk!

5. – Red Dawn – This film has every quality you could want from a rewatchable movie, especially a high cheese factor and super dated (I mean come on, most people under 22 have no idea what the Cold War was!). But it now makes me sad to watch, since I fear what horror the impending remake will wreak upon the memory of the original. RIP Jed. WOLVERINES!

4. - The Shawshank Redemption – This movie is almost too good to be on this list, as I always watch it if I find it. But that’s rewatchability for you. The one thing going against it, is that watching it on cable and then unedited, can almost feel like two different movies. I didn’t think some of the content had that big an impact until I caught it recently on a movie channel. Still worth watching, though.

3. – True Lies – Action, comedy, touching family drama all wrapped up into two hours of cheesy fun. This film has just about everything, but only a few super memorable quotes. But it did one thing no one thought possible, it gave Tom Arnold a career, since he nailed every scene. I still don’t think he’s been as entertaining, or funny, since.

2. – The Karate Kid - I know, doesn’t this fall into the same remake category of Red Dawn? It could, but the original was so good, even a terrible remake, and an awful third sequel with Hillary Swank, cannot detract from this film. It has just about everything. A brash Ralph Macchio, a young and adorable Elizabeth Shue as the romantic interest, Pat Morita knocking it out of the park and of course the immortal Billy Zabka! Zabka alone, as the ultra arrogant Johnny, is worth your two hours. You want Daniel-son to kick his fanny. And when he realizes at the end his sensei is wrong, you feel good he turned to Daniel’s side after the match. Cheese factor? High. Quotability? Please, who doesn’t respond to “Sweep the leg” or “Wax on, Wax off”? And the entire movie makes you think 1980’s. This film would easily be number one, but was narrowly edged out by….

1. - Forrest Gump – This film literally has it all, packed in to a time frame spanning the 50’s through the 80’s. The supporting cast is stellar with Robin Wright Penn and Gary Sinese plus a wonderful Sally Field. Mykelti Williamson shows up before anyone knew who he was, and admit it, when you see him now the first thing you say is, it’s Bubba! Age is no factor for this film, since it reminds the viewer of EVERY time period. Quotability? Please! This film is stocked full. Almost every line is quotable. The cable factor? This film feels like it was made to be shown repeatedly on cable. Rewatchability? Oh, out of the park, since I always put the remote down when I find this gem. Each time you watch you find something new, especially cheesiness. I mean come on, no reporter trying to interview Forrest on his cross country run has done any research to figure out this gardener is also the same Forrest Gump who’s a college football All American, Vietnam war hero and Congressional Medal of Honor winner, international ping pong celebrity and ultra successful business man who started a shrimping empire and a gazillionaire? Just like in the film, Forrest comes out on top again, without even trying just by being Forrest Gump.

Random Observations VI Return of the Silly

2010-10-23T15:44:00.002-04:00

It’s been a while since we peaked behind the curtain of our world and spotted a few of our, shall we say, less intelligent moments. I’ve got a few I’ve been saving, and some nice recent ones as well plus a few wacky personal observations thrown in just for fun. So how about we look at a few and chuckle at our own inanity. Remember, this is your world.

Oh wow, Coors cut a hole in their beer cases! Dang I bet it actually tastes palatable now! If you fall for this obvious marketing ploy that does nothing to change the quality of the product and merely the appearance, then please come visit me. I have this bridge I’ve been trying to sell.

Why are Skittles commercials so disturbing? How does showing a kid with a tree that produces candy growing out of his midsection make me want to eat Skittles? If anything, it makes me want to avoid them, especially since he’s not portrayed as terribly hygienic.

Did we really need a sequel to Wall Street? Didn’t we cover all there was with the first one?

And on that note, how can there be a sequel to Marley and Me when Marley dies at the end? Oh, the makers of this film figured it out. It will be a prequel. Uhhh, quick question, how can you do that when the first movie covered Marley’s entire life from puppy to old dog?

Trousers are a funny word.

Did anyone catch this article? If not give it a quick read, it’s not very long and just reinstates the belief in my mind of just what amazing creatures dogs are. I’m glad I have two.

Volkswagen, just so you know, the stupid kids game where you hit someone and call out the car color when you see a Beetle is called PUNCHBUG! Making a dumb version called Punch Dub for a lame advertizing campaign does not count.

I’m pretty sure there’s no way to stop this from happening at this point. But man, I really wish they weren’t remaking Red Dawn. The original still holds up and is just as good today as the day it came out. This is almost as bad an idea as remaking The Karate Kid.

I don't like the word quickly. I can't explain why, just don't care for it.

If no one else will say it, then I suppose I must. Shia LaBeouf stinks. How does he continue to get work? He’s bland, milquetoast and has the emotional range of a transistor radio. He’s the Joe Buck of Hollywood.

Boy I could use a vacation. Sandy, sunny and warm with umbrella drinks sounds like just the ticket.

Boy, I really wish Miracle Whip would just tone it down; it is too wild for my sandwiches.

Something tells me this blanket would not make a good anniversary gift. I think if you gave this to your spouse, you would be using it to cover up on the couch. Although the lady at the beginning kills me!

Yeah, I’ve thought about it and I must say I really don’t care for Michael Jordan with the Hitler mustache.

I owe a debt of gratitude to Joel McHale. Thanks to him, I get all the pop culture I need, and can stand, in 30 minute segments each week. And then, I can completely ignore it, thus freeing myself for other pursuits such as reading, napping or smacking my fingers with a hammer. You know constructive things.

Attention Subway and Pizza Hut: Your any sandwich/pizza for one price promotion is a good idea. But if certain items are exempt from said promotion, then you cannot say ALL items are one price. Please see Papa John’s promotion to see what any item one price means.

In case you missed it, here’s a fun one from earlier this year on the FAA’s crackdown of cockpit distractions to pilots, like say Solitaire and Minesweeper. To be honest, my life would have been better not knowing this happened.

I’ll wrap up this little tome with this stunning article from 2009. This just must be near the top of the list of stupidest things I’ve ever read. If she had a phone in one hand and a baby in the other, just exactly how was she driving the car? And I thought people who read magazines and newspapers behind the wheel were bad.

Something Interesting

2010-07-21T19:03:00.001-04:00

Is on the way. I know what took so long?

Christmas Wishes 2009

2009-12-25T00:37:00.001-05:00

I would like to pass on to one and all a very Merry Christmas to one and all. I hope everyone out there is able to be with friends, family and loved ones to partake in the celebration of the season.

I would also hope that if possible you have been able to help those who are less fortunate than yourselves. Lately, life has been a tough wench on many, and times they have been a long way off from getting better. Boy don’t I know it. But if you have good friends, a loving family, food and shelter, heck anymore that means you live like a king. And if you do, and can if possible, I encourage all to lend a hand to those who do not have such joys this season. I know that may not seem possible to lend a helping hand with things so tight and life so stressful, but always keep in mind that a little bit of kindness can go a very long way.

As I’ve said before, if this is not a day for you, then please enjoy the festivities regardless. I understand we all come from different backgrounds, cultures and religions, and even though I celebrate Christmas, I recognize that not everyone does. I do wish for those of other faiths to find happiness and joy this day as well. I would like to hope that in our world, there is more than enough joy to go around for everybody, regardless of age, sex, race, religion or culture. That would be a wonderful Christmas wish to come true.

So, in a tradition I let lapse last year, I would like to give you a small holiday chuckle. Years ago I found this gem, thanks to an email forward. Yes, sometimes those forwards are a gem. I always get a profound guffaw from this hilarious piece when I break it out fresh each December. I find it a fantastic merging of myth and science for comedic effect.

Before you read this, I would like to state for the record I do not believe any of this is true. The original author, whoever he or she may be, forgot to calculate in the magic of Santa Claus. Yes, scientifically it may seem impossible, but hey, we are talking Santa here! So do not worry, I know the following hypothesis is not true. If you have any doubt, please check out Santa Tracker from NORAD. I’m sure that will provide one of all the proof they need that Santa is indeed real. And I’ve been watching his progress all evening, so I know this article is not true. Now, without further ado, enjoy the following, but remember Santa is real. Merry Christmas to one and all.

Santa Facts

1) No known species of reindeer can fly. But there are 300,000 species of living organisms yet to be classified. While most of these are insects and germs, this does not COMPLETELY rule out flying reindeer, which only Santa has ever seen.

2) There are 2 billion children (persons under 18) in the world. But since Santa does not (appear) to handle the Muslim, Hindu, Jewish and Buddhist children, that reduces the workload to 15% of the total – 378 Million according to the Population Reference Bureau. At an average (census) rate of 3.5 children per household, that is 91.8 million homes. One presumes there is at least one good child in each home.

3) Santa has 31 hours of Christmas to work with, thanks to the different time zones and the rotation of the Earth, assuming he travels east to west (which seems logical). This works out to 822.6 visits per second. This is to say that for each Christian household with good children, Santa has 1/1000^th of a second to park, hop out of the sleigh, jump down the chimney, fill the stockings, distribute the remaining presents under the tree, eat whatever snacks have been left, get back up the chimney, get back into the sleigh and move on to the next house. Assuming that each of these 91.8 million stops are evenly distributed around the Earth (which, of course, we know to be false but for the purposes of our calculations we will accept), we are now talking about .78 miles per household, a total trip of 75.5 million miles, not counting stops to do what most of us must do at least once every 31 hours, plus feeding and etc.

This means that Santa’s sleigh is moving at 650 miles per second, 3,000 times the speed of sound. For purposes of comparison, the fastest man-made vehicle on Earth, the Ulysses space probe, moves at a poky 27.4 miles per second. A conventional reindeer can run, tops, 15 miles per hour.

4) The payload on the sleigh adds another interesting element. Assuming that each child gets nothing more than a medium-sized Lego set (2 pounds), the sleigh is carrying 321,000 tons, not counting Santa, who is invariably described as overweight. On land, conventional reindeer can pull no more than 300 pounds. Even granting that “flying reindeer” (see point #1) could pull TEN TIMES the normal amount, we cannot do the job with eight, or even nine. We need 214,000 reindeer. This increases the payload to 353430 tons. Again, for comparison, this is four times the weight of the Queen Elizabeth.

5) 353,430 tons traveling at 650 miles per second creates enormous air resistance. This will heat the reindeer up in the same fashion as spacecraft re-entering the Earth’s atmosphere. The lead pair of reindeer will absorb 14.3 QUINTILLION joules of energy. Per second. Each. In short, they will burst into flame almost instantaneously, exposing the reindeer behind them and creating deafening sonic booms in their wake. The entire reindeer team will be vaporized within 4.26 thousandths of a second. Santa, meanwhile, will be subjected to centrifugal forces 17,500.06 times greater than gravity. A 250 pound Santa (which seems ludicrously slim), would be pinned to the back of his sleigh by 4,315,015 pounds of force.

In conclusion, if Santa ever DID deliver presents on Christmas Eve, he’s dead now.

I Did What?

2009-12-09T23:48:00.000-05:00

Ron Artest revealed he drank at halftime of NBA games.

Andre Agassi intimated to everyone in his new book about his meth addiction, mullet hairpiece and playing tennis commando style.

David Duchovny is a sex addict.

Eva Mendes informed the world she had sex in all 50 states

Mackenzie Phillips felt the need to share that she had sex with her dad

Meredith Baxter used airtime on the Today Show, not sure how she got that, to let us know she’s a lesbian. I know, everyone under 30 is asking who?

Constantly I find myself inundated with the dirty laundry of the semi rich and quasi famous. And every time I ask myself why? What do these people have to gain from revealing their darkest, most sensational secrets? And who exactly cares?

Of course, the answers are because their fame is flagging and they need a fix of the spotlight, for money, and we care because it’s fun to see people more screwed up than us.

Everyone wants to make a buck exposing every side of themselves. Seemingly every day we're "rocked" by another pseudo celeb or fading star revealing some tawdry personal story in order to garner air time and move on to that 16th minute of fame. If the constant parade of celebrities looking to bare their souls on Oprah gets any bigger, she's going to have to install a turnstile. I have no idea what they'll do come 2011 when she strolls off into the sunset. Perhaps Wendy Williams will be available

And if it's not them, it's the nimrods trying desperately to stick their right foot into the celebrity pool. From the Balloon Boy and his idiotic family to the White House crashing reality TV hopefuls, I swear if you don't have some jagoff show treatment in your back pocket at all times, you must be un-American.

So I offer you my “confession”. I figure this will sky rocket myself right up the charts all the way to K – List, just behind Octomom, but just ahead of Dustin Diamond. Warm up your couch Oprah, I'm coming. And someone keep Larry King alive until I get there. I wanna snap his suspenders.

Sometimes while cooking, I substitute for things called for in the recipe because I do not have the items listed, even though I have no professional chef’s training.
I shot the sheriff. But I swear I shot no deputy.
I’ve blown a snot rocket before. Not proud of it, but not ashamed either.
I cut the cheese and blamed it on the dog.
I once had sex in a moon suit. Or was it a moon bounce? I can't remember; I was so hopped up on lima beans.
Oh yeah, I found a way to get high from lima beans. Inexpensive and wickedly effective. So many lives ruined because of what I could do with basic produce.
I’m a jerk. But I only realize it when it dawns on me that I said hi to someone through some various form of communication and months have gone by without a response. So that makes me oblivious too.
I peed in the pool. Not saying when or which one. You gotta by the book for that good stuff.
I make my 7 and 7’s with Ginger ale. While I may not stick to the traditional mix, I find it much tastier and far more delicious than the norm.
As I have gotten older, I’ve found I produce too much ear wax. I’m thinking of starting a foundation for my affliction and others that suffer like me. The name that keeps popping in my head is the Ear Wax Watchdogs, or EWW.
I had a mullet once, but shamefully it was my real hair.
I make a wicked excellent guacamole. That’s not tawdry, embarrassing or particularly sensational but I am proud of it.
I do not have a cheese addiction. I can stop whenever I want. And no, I am not in an extra sharp cheddar induced state of denial.
Often I run into walls walking or turning a corner. It’s not from an altered state; It’s because I have the coordination of a 5 year old.

Is there much more? Definitely. Will any of them be 100% true? Possibly. Will it be more tawdry and salacious? You betcha. After all, there’s still the book, talk shows and radio appearances, a movie deal, a book sequel, more talk shows and the inevitable reality show to follow. That’s a lot of media to fill; but I cannot give it all away at once. I must save a few of the tastier nuggets for the rainy day to come when people either realize I have nothing to offer but embarrassing stories of a life poorly led, like Danny Bonaduce. Or they find a new flavor of the month with an even bigger, more shocking, tawdrier and more unbelievable story to tell and Larry King bumps me.

But I still maintain this is good for now. So I’ll just sit back, relax, and wait for the media to demand I come completely clean regarding my transgressions, all the while completely ignoring my privacy for their sensationalist journalism, much like they're doing to Tiger right now. After all, how can I remain in the public eye unless I create a media storm based on stupid behavior? Provide actual entertainment? Surely you jest.

And Always Remember To Flush

2009-11-18T19:50:00.000-05:00

The casualness of society is killing decorum and good taste. Ok, it’s already dead. I think we finished those off when chicks from Flavor of Love and Rock of Love started getting their own TV shows. But I digress.

The increase of general casualness has opened up areas where a certain level of discreteness once upon a time was the norm and now is the exception. Mind you, this is not necessarily a bad thing. People are free to talk on phones wherever and whenever, allowing vital communication to occur with a sense of freedom. Mothers can feel secure knowing if their child needs to be nursed, they will be able to do so without being scorned and shamed. And employees can feel more comfortable and productive in casual dress instead of slogging through the day in three piece suits. And if they feel more comfortable dressed to the nines, they are free to do so as well.

However, as with anything, people tend to take a good idea too far. Said cell phone users are more than happy to babble incessantly about the minutiae of their lives everywhere, bothering movie patrons, restaurant diners and rudely ignoring checkout personnel who are trying to provide service to them. Openness has pushed casual kissing and displays of affection in public to outright grope fests where sometimes, I’m sure those people are actually engaging in intercourse. I’m no prude by any stretch of the imagination, but we’re talking about general public sensibilities, so show a minuscule bit of discretion. Most people find it distasteful to watch Dick and Jane Hotpants round third base at the local Starbucks. At the very least find a bush or darkened doorway in which to proceed. And of course casual dress outside the office has degraded to the closer one looks to a sloppy bum, the cooler they must be.

I remember once leaving LAX on an early morning flight witnessing an amazing display of casualness that still blows my mind. My wife and I were up way too early for our tastes to catch said early flight, but still showered and dressed appropriately for public. Nothing fancy of course, we were hopping on a cross country flight so sneakers, jeans and pullover shirts were the order of the day. Comfortable, practical and yet appropriate for being in public. But we were wildly overdressed compared to this family we saw waiting for a flight. All of them, mother, father and two children, were dressed head to toe in pajamas. And I don’t mean like t-shirts or stretch pants some use as bedtime wear, I mean top and bottom pajama sets. Amongst their carry on flotsam were pillows and blankets in which to nap. The mother spent the majority of the time waiting for their flight slouched over in her chair with one said blanket wrapped around her head and torso in a sort of mini cocoon, shutting out the stark reality of where exactly she was and what her children were doing. The father sluggishly and half heartedly worked to keep the kids, sleepy yet excited for adventure, occupied. Now, I hate getting up early for almost any reason. I say almost because I’m still a sucker for Christmas morning. And the prospect of rising early to deal with airport security and then a long flight was one I dreaded. Oh, I wanted to take the trip, I just didn’t want to deal with such an early start. But I still managed to pull myself together, and I’m not even setting an example for children. Even recalling this event now leaves me feeling a bit incredulous.

Nevertheless once a train gets rolling, it’s hard to stop. And this casual train is picking up speed. Now I’m one that’s all for it almost all of the time. I tend to eschew fancy dress clothes. I love a comfortable pair of shorts and a t-shirt over most anything. Oh, once in a while it’s fun to dress up and go out on the town, but every day? Yikes. And my cell phone is my only phone, so obviously I’m fine with chatting out and about. As for nursing mothers, who cares? I’m siding with the kid on this one. When I’m hungry I want to eat now. In my opinion, smart kid. Oh sure, I have some exceptions to casual society, but I tend to think there are bigger fish to fry on the whole than getting worked up about wearing jeans with a sport coat. But socks and sandals still must go.

But there is one area where I grant no quarter, no exceptions and no excuses. I say no more to casualness in public bathrooms, either in stores, transportation hubs, offices or anywhere else. This problem has gone too far and we must eliminate it now before it gets worse.

Perhaps I’m a bit old school on this one, but I tend to think of the bathroom as a place of business, as in do your business and move on. It’s a solitary place for your own dealings and, sometimes, reflections. Once again, I’m no prude, but the bathroom is not an appropriate place for BS sessions, meetings or general frivolity. Ok, maybe your own bathroom at home is fine for these things, but not public restrooms.

So I would like to propose a few rules for operating in public bathrooms. Nothing drastic, just a few things that would help bring back a bit of decorum and private comfort.

Idle conversation – Above all else, this has gotta go. I don’t care for idle conversation in general. I mean, who really enjoys talking with some jagoff about the weather? Personally I feel idle conversation is made to either break a silence someone is uncomfortable with or to hear themselves talk. I really don’t like it at the urinal, where I prefer silence and my own introspection. So if you kind of know me and see me saddled up to the porcelain, button your yapper unless you see a tiger behind me or someone needs me on a life or death basis.

Work conversation – If you have an important work issue that needs discussed or some vital bit of information that needs to be conveyed, fine I get that. But go to someone’s office or a conference room or to lunch and discuss to your hearts content. I hate having to wade through people milling around the door while they engage in conversation. Even worse is trying to do my business whilst issues are being bounded about at the sinks, the urinals or horribly, between stalls. Yes, I have been caught in the crossfire of a conversation while two idiots attempted to continue their chat while both were doing the squat. Come on, really?

In the stalls – This is not your Barcalounger. Those pipes are interconnected, so when you flop down on them Joe Comfortable, it shakes the rest of us. Now, onto the business at hand and it’s really simple. Get in, get done, and get out. People traipsing in there with the New York Times and spending 20 minutes or more drive me insane. You are in public, show some consideration others may need to use those facilities. We do not really want to wait until you’ve finished with the local headlines before you’re ready to pinch it off. And if it takes that long to do the deed, then perhaps you need to think of increasing your fiber intake.

Also for the stalls, if you tend to go, how do I put this delicately, loudly, try to muffle yourself. It’s no fun for the rest of us when we think there’s an elephant next door.

And speaking of muffling, I know there are times a good “session” can feel really nice. Sometimes you have to go so bad that once you have the opportunity, it’s such a relief it’s almost joy. If you have one of these “sessions” outside your residence, keep the joy to yourself. When I hear some twit giving a loud sigh or prolonged AHHHHHH after doing some business, it makes me wonder exactly what is going on in there. And to be honest, that spoils my own reflection time.

At the urinals – You have to go, I know. I can tell by your pee pee dance. I’m here like most people to get in and get out as fast as possible and move on with my day. So keep that in mind when you hover behind like a black ops helicopter. Keep your distance and don’t move in the second I start turning to leave. I want to be done, but I don’t want to feel hurried or pressured because you had one too many cups of coffee Juan Valdez.

At the sinks – Ok, first off splashing water around for 10 seconds is not washing your hands. I don’t care how good your aim is, Wyatt Earp, you probably had some splash back. Throw a little soap on those hands and scrub a bit. And if you just walk past the sinks after you’re finished, please steer very clear of me.

On the flip side, you can go too far under the sink. I’ve seen people scrubbing up like they’re about to go into surgery. There cannot be that many OCD cases or germaphobes in the world where an intense skin peeling scrub session is the norm. Some of these cats use more soap and water than a laundry service. Take it easy Dr. House, just get them clean and wrap it up.

Tooting the horn – Can we also tone it down with the nose blowing, burping and cutting the cheese as well? I know what you’re thinking. The bathroom is the place for such bodily functions, if I don’t do them here, where can I? I’m not saying don’t do them, actually I prefer that. I’m just asking for a touch of decorum when you do. For instance, don’t blow that fog horn of a nose when you’re standing right behind me at the sinks, or rip one that sounds like a moose call as you walk past toward the stalls. I’m just asking for a slight bit of consideration of others on this point.

Personal grooming – Through years of conditioning we are trained to think of bathrooms as places in which you do personal grooming. But somewhere, the separation between personal bathroom and public bathroom has dissipated. And before anyone starts, I understand sometimes you must take matters into your own hands and handle these things in an emergency. I would call those exceptions, every rule must have them. I’m aiming at those who bring their toiletry bag with them at all times. I get it if you have excellent oral hygiene and want to brush your teeth after lunch or want to freshen up between flights. But let’s draw line there and save hair trimming, nail trimming, deodorant applying, ear cleaning, zit popping and any other assorted grooming for your home. I swear I’ve seen people walk into bathrooms with more personal grooming accoutrements than are found in a Walgreens.

Paper towels – When you wash your hands at home, do you leave the towels akimbo or thrown on the floor? No? Then why do it in public? Yes, I know there are people paid to clean the facilities, but they’re not in the restrooms all the time, and other people still must use them while wading through your wet, discarded paper towels strewn across the floor. Quit trying to be LeBron James and hit the 30 footer and just drop the towels in the basket.

Now those don’t seem to difficult do they? Yes? Ok, you’re privileges are removed smart guy, go find a tree. For everyone else, I just ask that we set these few rules in motion now and turn the tide of casualness in public restrooms. Let’s leave public bathrooms as they should be; a place of business. If we don’t, I for fear the day I walk in and get wrapped up in a conversation about the weather with some guy in pajamas.

I Must Protest

2009-11-10T19:37:00.000-05:00

I read recently that some of the arrested protesters from the G-20 conference were accepting plea bargains and being released. What caught my attention was that this was a full month after the conference had been held, and these protesters were still dealing with the ramifications of their actions. A month later, it blew my mind. Do these people not have jobs, homes, families, lives? Were these things worth losing or being separated from for such a time just to get a message out? After reading about these individuals, I came to a conclusion that the extreme form of protest we see prevalent in our world today is ineffective, wasteful and dangerous and instead of affecting change, it maintains the status quo.

Do you want to know the net result of extreme protesting? A wasted day, traffic congestion, increased sales at Staples, inconvenienced pedestrians who have nothing to do with those being protested and tons of generated anger, fury, hurt feelings and misplaced vitriol of which our world does not need more. That’s it. Sure, the message of the protesters gets out, and perhaps by chance a few people may show some middling interest in their cause. But for the most part, the only people getting fired up are ones already on board with their mission, or those on the opposite extreme who could care less about said cause but find the whole situation terribly inconveniencing and extremely annoying.

What I really do not understand is how protesters feel that causing such demonstrations really affect the change they seek. Does it really work? Does all the effort, planning, procurement of supplies, risk to personal safety and freedom, risk of breaking laws or injuring innocent bystanders really do anything positive for their cause? Does some CEO sit in her office watching a protest and say; Wow, gee maybe we should change things. Or does a world leader sit back in quiet reflection as thousands protest below and ponder how to act upon the demands being vehemently thrust upon him? Or does public opinion really sway so greatly that the cause is picked up by millions of like minded individuals solely because a band of people were unafraid to shout their opinion from the street corners? No, from what I’ve seen, most people watch protesting groups and think they are a bunch of law breaking crackpots. Even those who do not break laws, or are peaceful and genuinely believe in their cause are lumped in with those who do go to ridiculous, illegal and dangerous extremes to make their point.

I witnessed a peace protest once in Denver, and the reaction of those not involved ranged from mild annoyance to slight curiosity to extreme disinterest. I watched those around me and their reactions after the march had passed, and nary one person was moved to jump up and rush to join. Most stared on in trivial amusement and then went back about their day. People tend to avoid such extreme actions because it makes them uncomfortable, they fear possible repercussions from law enforcement or others or they just do not feel that strongly about the issue at hand. Does that mean they do not care? No. It means they do not want to be swept up a tidal wave of extremism to affect change. And I do believe some people would be moved to join the cause, but feel that if their passion for the issue does not match those marching or protesting, then perhaps they do not care that much at all and just ignore the whole thing.

I guess I just cannot see what this particular form of objection toward something really generates in regards to an end result, which no matter the protest or cause always seems to be some sort of change. It seems that causing such a ruckus does so little toward making that change happen, and so much more toward turning public opinion away from those working so hard to get their voices heard and their concerns addressed.

Do not get the wrong idea. I think those who demand, want, need, speak up and work for change is vital to our society and our world. If we did nothing but stare placidly out our windows at the world rolling by, nothing would ever change. As creatures, humans have a tendency to want and make their situations better, sometimes in minor ways and sometimes in grandiose ways. We need people willing to speak out, stand up and inspire the rest of us that it doesn’t always have to be like this. We can make things better for everyone. We can do better than we have, we can do more. But hanging from signs and disrupting meetings seems like such a fruitless way of transforming our world.

History is ripe with those who stood up, turned public opinion in their favor and affected real change. Brave individuals who were willing to make a stand and say, we need to change things and for the better. But all of those who were successful in really making change occur were never ones who advocated violence or who went after those they opposed with vitriol and venom. They never made their stand by destroying property, endangering bystanders or rioting. They used words, ideas, dreams and the power of the people to make our world better. They were never afraid to stand up, but when they did, they pulled people together for their cause and beliefs, not pushed them away with extremism.

We live in a 24/7 media cycle, with options almost ridiculously unlimited in ways to communicate a message or entice people to your cause. Getting people on your side to influence public opinion always works. If enough people get fed up, things will change. But if you use tactics that just turn off, or worse anger, the general population your hard fought efforts will be for naught.

Use that media cycle to your advantage and grab that public opinion. Start websites, twitter, face book, text, call, blog, vlog, put up billboards, get on news programs, be interviewed and interview others that can get your message out to greater numbers. If you still want to get out on the street, fine. Hand out pamphlets, open a store front to talk about the issues at hand or put up campaign style lawn signs. Run for public office and make changes within the system. Work for one of the companies that vex you so and start enacting change from within. There are so many ways you can work to make the differences you seek, and these are merely a drop in the bucket, that would be far more effective than a protest. Plus, you wouldn’t have to spend the day in the elements marching in a circle like a demented merry go round. And that would be a change for the positive.

Saying Goodbye Saying Hello

2009-10-21T21:10:00.001-04:00

I’m hoping to jump start this blog again. I’d like to say it’s been on life support, but that would mean it showed some signs of life in recent months. However since last fall, it has been a very eventful year. And while I have managed to throw a few things out, it has been very few.

But I digress. My hope is that by sharing this story, I can finally let it go and open myself up again. You see, I started telling this tale last November. But it was too difficult to write. So I jotted notes as they came to me and set them aside. I hoped to start the New Year with it sort of symbolically start anew, but even then it felt too soon. So I let it percolate more. But it kept sticking in my head, and in some ways holding me back. I felt it important to tell this tale, but never felt inspired, happy, willing, the proper timing or skilled enough to write it. And any other idea just felt empty and unimportant by comparison. So still I waited, and with it this forum has stagnated. Nevertheless time waits for no one. And despite my feelings it may be too soon, and I am heavily emotional as I write, the time feels write to tell this tale.

You see today marks one year since the passing of Logan, the golden retriever with a heart, and stomach that were bigger than his 90 pound frame. A dog loved from coast to coast. And a friend who taught me lessons I needed to learn without even knowing. Logan touched everyone he ever met, even those who did not care much for pets. He had a certain magical quality to him that you find in but a very few special furry friends, and when you find it, you can count yourself blessed. I did not realize, foolishly enough, just how blessed I was until after he was gone.

So I share now with you a bit of his life, his passing, his enduring spirit, what he meant to me and what I learned from this wonderful animal. This is for Logan, and more importantly for Kristen, because she knew just how special that gigantic orange galoot was from day one. And if not for her, I’d never have even known him.

It’s hard to summarize Logan in but a few short sentences, but I shall make an attempt even if I am not fit for the challenge. He was the ultimate people dog. I do not think there was anyone he met he did not like. Everyone, even if he met them for the first time, was greeted with his overflowing enthusiasm, which usually started with 90 pounds of joy charging right at you. And while he was as gentle as a cloud, seeing that entire dog coming at you could be scary. Not in an attack sort of scary, but more of a oh my goodness if he runs right into me that bulk is going to send me flying sort of way. And he did knock a few people back, myself included. He was just so happy to see anyone all the time, he could not help himself. This only endeared him further to people.

If he met you previously and he saw you again? Oh my, you might as well duck and cover. He’d charge hard, looking for that initial greeting, mouth pulled back in the biggest smile a naturally smiling dog like golden’s could possibly muster. Then he tore off, grabbed the nearest toy or his favorite Clifford toy, and ran back at you with his entire butt wagging, looking for that wonderful moment when you said hi Logan and pet his bobbing head. This moment would make his day. And often, it had the same effect on visitors.

He was like this with everyone, no matter if they would roll on the ground with him or just give him a polite pat on the head. Everyone was wonderful to him, and he wanted to give that wonderfulness right back.

As much as he loved everyone, his love of food was equally legendary. He adored food, and would do anything to get it. I could spend weeks relating stories of him and food. His stealing antics, like when he ate food right off of someone’s fork when they weren’t paying attention, or stealing a sandwich off the counter, or when he leaned across the coffee table to snatch fries off of my plate when I turned my back for 5 seconds. For a big, galooting dog who did not know the definition of subtle, when it came to food that boy was as quick and silent as a ninja.

Oh, yes a few of those antics got him in trouble, with a go lay down yelled, or even the occasional smack on the butt. However, he was never deterred. He’d just come right back, flash those big eyes at you and turn on the charm. And he overflowed with charm. And he expressed it in his actions, his moves and his face. For instance, I came home early one day, and caught him naughtily lying on the couch. I figured he had been, since I always found the orange evidence left behind from the shedding beast. But this time, I caught him red pawed, so to speak. Was he chagrined? Oh, a bit at first, but then he just trundled over to me, with a look that said, oh that oh I was just keeping it warm for you all the while grinning madly. Such the charmer that boy could be.

Unfortunately, being a golden he was prone to golden genetic issues and his nemesis turned out to be cancer. Kristen, luckily, is a veterinary technician, and the first time he had it, we caught it early. And we caught the second, third and fourth early for that matter. Each time proved to be frightening but he always pulled through triumphantly.

To show the amazing attributes of this special dog, two of the times he had cancer his recovery was a marvel. When he had a mass on his left front elbow, he needed a flap. For those who have never heard of this procedure, what they do is when they cut out the cancer they need to do a sort of skin graft. This is because with the cancer cut out there would not be enough skin to properly sew it closed. So they cut some skin from above on the shoulder and back, pull it down, twist it and sew it over the wound creating a sort of ball on the leg. Then the back is sewn up and it’s just a matter healing and fur growing back. Typically from what I’ve heard, this procedure usually results in some of the “ball” dying off, as the skin that has moved does not always survive. Not with Logan, it was 100% successful. He even became an example for new patients. When people came to the hospital and their dog had to go through a similar procedure, they’d show off Logan to show how successful the procedure can be. I do not think I need to mention he excelled in this public relations role.

The other one involved an amazing procedure where they cut a tumor out of his gums, and then froze the spot on the jawbone to make sure cancer did not get into his bones. Yup, once again 100% successful, even though it was the first time the procedure had been tried by the surgeon. That was our boy a marvel in all aspects. Mind you not being a veterinary professional myself, I’m sure I am explaining these procedures wrong in some way or missing some extremely pertinent detail. But my point is that Logan faced difficult situations with his usual joy and won.

But even the most amazing dogs cannot fight an opponent forever. And with Logan being a lover and not a fighter, this eventually was the case. Mercifully, all the cancer we had found was on the skin, and we were able to remove them successfully each time. But cancer can be persistent, and eventually it metastasized. Now, we did not give up, no. We did try other treatments. But we knew it would not be fair to such a good boy to keep subjecting his aging frame and heart to constant surgeries. So, we hoped for the best, tried less invasive methods and ignored the potential worst.

But eventually, the worst did come. One Saturday not long after our move I was out, and Kristen came home from work to find Logan a bloody mess. A mass on his right rear leg had burst and he was bleeding out. As she tried to bandage him, he bit her, something he’d never done before as far as I knew. I raced home when she called and together we got him settled and bandaged. With the initial scare over, the deeper fear set in. What did this mean? What would be next? He had other masses appearing, would more come? Would the cancer move internal?

That week we took him to see a specialist and we started trying a few more things. We kept him bandaged and hoped that the wound would heal. Hope rose a bit until the following Saturday, when after visiting a friend the mass broke open again on the ride home. This was particularly bad because he was already bandaged and just lying down.

That night on the front porch of the house we just moved into three weeks prior, we cleaned and bandaged him again through tears. As we cleaned up the bloody mess afterward, we broached the subject that perhaps his time had come. Ok, I broached it and Kristen cried even harder. I felt lower than I ever had. I felt as though I had killed him myself. I did not bring it up to upset her, or because I wanted rid of him. I was just trying to think of him and his comfort. I took it back, but she said no. It was time but so upsetting a reality to face. I understood. We set the day to be the following Tuesday, three days hence.

The following days were the shortest and longest of our lives together. We tried to soak in as much time as possible with him knowing it would all be over far too soon. It’s funny, because months previous when the cancer started getting more aggressive, we spoke of this happening in an abstract sort of way. I was convinced he would have at least until 2009 and maybe even a whole year more. I hate when I’m wrong, and I hated it even more this time.

The problem over those days was despite the bandage on his leg, he seemed normal. He was happy, he enjoyed dinner and begged for more and was clamoring for attention. We began to question if this was the right decision. Did he not still have quality of life? Were we doing this too soon? Doubt began to creep into our thoughts.

Odd sometimes how life directs you sometimes when you seem the most unsure. Logan started taking his time for meals. Usually, he’d plow you over to get to his dish, and have half the food eaten before you finished filling his bowl. Now, he had to be called. Bad sign number one. We went to bed one night, and he started walking up the steps, slipped, and slid down. I walked behind him to help him. As an older, big dog, he of course was developing arthritis and that was rearing his ugly head. Bad sign number two. A few years before, he started groaning when he lay down at night. At first it was funny, his grumpy groan we called it. Now it was more pronounced, and a sign of discomfort. Bad sign number three. Despite our selfish doubts, born of not wanting to let go and the pain it would cause, we felt this was right for him. He was too good, too active, too sweet and too independent to suffer through some of the indignities that would come with a worsening condition.

His last day was as beautiful as we could make it. We spent time with him in the morning, fawning and petting and loving. We took some last pictures of his big goofy mug. We then took him for a walk near our house. The walk in my mind symbolized his life and how his journey was coming to an end. When we started he was peppy and excited, full of energy and roaring to go. As we walked along through the woods, he rambled about, investigating everything and occasionally checking to see that we were there and with him as he went from one new adventure to the next. When finally it was time to head back, we walked up the hill together. Here he was slow, tired and spent but happy and content.

Then came the hard part, giving the last cheeseburgers. We always said when his time comes; he’s getting the good stuff. So I went and procured lunch for us and two cheeseburgers for Logan. One was for now, and one for the end. Of course, he wolfed the first one down wickedly fast. At least on his last day, he loved the food. Then, amidst our sadness, something strange happened. A turkey flew into our back yard. I saw it and called Kristen, and we watched this goofy bird struggle and finally figure out how to fly over the fence. We called him Logan 2. Then five minutes later, he came back with a friend, who we dubbed Logan 3. And like the original, we did not see them again after that day. But it really added to the surreal element to that moment in our lives.

Finally, the time came to go. To say we moved at the speed of a glacier would be appropriate. But eventually we did get moving, driving in silence with what was to come weighing heavy on our minds and hearts. When we arrived, we sat in the car for a bit, just thinking. Nothing really had to be said. We got out and stood outside, feeling the breeze on an overcast day. As other people came into the hospital, of course Logan took his usual role as greeter. This endearing quality did not make things easier.

But ahead we went, to this new hospital where I knew no one and Kristen only knew her coworkers for a few weeks. For people I was meeting for the first time under less than optimal conditions, they were very sweet and caring. And I appreciate all they did for us.

He was prepped for his moment, and we had a few moments remaining with the best dog. He was happy and friendly, joyous and generous. He was all he ever was, and more, and for that we were saddened and overjoyed. Finally, the moment came. The doctor came in, explained everything, and prepared. As he prepared to administer, I desperately wanted to scream stop, do not do this to my dog. But what good would that have done but make an unbearable moment even harder. So I held and petted, and Kristen petted and fed the cheeseburger. And then he was gone.

The room cleared out and it was just Kristen and I and our former big galoot. As we sobbed, we saw he still had mustard from the cheeseburger still on his face. Somehow, this seemed only fitting, that even in passing the boy had food slathered on his face. It brought a small smile. Time came to leave, but I did not want to leave him there alone. Kristen got someone to come and be with him until they took him away. And my last memory was of that big orange beast lying on the carpet, looking as he always did. Big, goofy and taking a nap. I still see it clearly today as though I were just there.

We staggered out through misty eyes, barely seeing what was in front of us. But, for the second time that day we hit another major surreal moment. We ran into a former coworker of Kristen’s, one she worked with in Los Angeles. We had only been in Pittsburgh, and our new home, for three weeks and here we were putting our dog down and running into an LA friend. So strange.

We stood outside staring at the sky, wondering where Logan was, what he was doing, and what we were going to do. Eventually, we settled down enough to be able to head for home, cradling his collar and leash along the way. The car felt empty and quiet during our drive, a feeling that would repeat itself often in the coming weeks. We remarked how good he was, how hard it will be without him. We joked a little bit about him, and what he’s doing now. I imagined that he’d already be slathered in bacon grease and being pet by multiple hands. It seemed like an appropriate image of him in heaven.

I felt for Kristen at this moment, because while it hurt for me, I only had 4 years with him. She had him since he was a puppy. He was there for every major event in her life for almost 12 years. That’s a crushing loss. But we did smile a bit, if only forced at times.

When we got home, the house was very quiet. We did not know what to do with ourselves. We were pretty much numb at that point. So we cleaned, and picked up. Then we did what you usually do after losing a pet, we bought a major appliance. Ok, we were planning on purchasing a dishwasher anyway. But we really needed to get out of the house, so now seemed like the perfect time. So, surreal item number three was our new kitchen helper.

That first day afterwards was very difficult for both of us. Far more difficult for me than I ever thought it would be. It did not help that I had nothing to do work wise, and was stuck in the house by myself and nothing but my active brain working overtime. I still owe a debt of gratitude to my friend Laura, who mercifully was home and magnificently allowed me to babble and bawl for over an hour, sympathetically listening all the while. But we both managed to slog through that first day post Logan despite feeling shell shocked. Each day since got a bit easier also. Sometimes, the days were more difficult, like when we put his things away. Sure, we hoped to use them at some point for a distant future furry friend, well at least some items no dog would ever get Clifford. But in the beginning they were too hard to look at, especially for Kristen. But the pain eventually subsided and turned into warm memories full of happiness, tail wagging and big, stinky slobbery kisses.

Its funny how you take so many little things for granted. Just the normal, every day things you do not think about until they are not there. I discovered that the next day. Kristen went to work, and I was at home, looking for work. But the house was very quiet and lonely. And I felt it hard. Especially when I saw his toy chest, without any toys moved. There was no water splashed out of his bowl all over the place. And no fresh dog hair on any furniture. The little things are what you miss the most.

I never thought I’d miss his stinky dog smell, but I found myself about a week after he moved on smelling his collar. It still smelled of him. I never thought I’d miss his incessant begging for food at dinner. And to be honest, it was annoying. He’d put that gigantic noggin right in your face. Predictably, I’d yell at him to go lay down. He would for a bit, and then sneak back. It was difficult those first few days eating dinner in peace. I would have given almost anything for him to be there salivating. Plus, his constant need for attention was gone. It felt strange not having him slamming into you every few minutes looking to be petted or loved in some way. It took a long time before the overwhelming need to have him hound me went away. Sometimes, it still comes back.

And there were other things as well. Him pulling me down the steps, almost killing us both just to go outside for the bathroom. That followed rapidly by him dragging me down the block for a shot at perhaps getting petted by another person. Those big expressive eyes that just gazed at you full of love and caring. Those gigantic paws that could smack you upside the head in overzealous joy if you were not careful. And even the tumbleweeds of orange fur that would roll across the kitchen floor. All those little things, you never notice them until they’re gone.

For some reason I always tried, at least outwardly, to keep a distance with Logan. I would say that he is my wife’s dog, he’s her boy. I had the cat, she had him. I would crack wise that when he went, I would have to put her down too as she would be a mess. Well, in the 10 days leading up to his passing, and ever since he has not felt like her dog. He felt and still feels like my dog. I know that is preposterous, since she did raise him from a puppy. But it didn’t, and still doesn’t, feel like just her loss.

And in those first few days afterward, I do not know who was the bigger mess, her or I. I think we took turns, to be quite honest. And if you had to judge during that time who to put down, I believe we both would have qualified.

I found as the days went by afterward, and the pain subsided that it did not take much to recall every moment of that day with incredible clarity. Sometimes it was something so innocuous that would bring on every emotion with the stunning sharpness of a knife point. I was watching a show one day while job hunting and a character said the word catheter. Just hearing that word made me think of Logan’s last catheter. Suddenly I found myself in the bathroom grabbing tissues and sobbing uncontrollably.

A few months later I made the mistake of reading Marley and Me in anticipation of the movie since I knew Kristen would want to see it. The book was enjoyable, but very painful. I basically cried through the last few chapters. In each of those chapters you could have replaced the name Marley with Logan, and it would have been almost exactly the same.

I said it often then, and still say it now. I miss our big dumb dog.

In the proceeding weeks and months after Logan left, I thought of all he gave to me. And that made me think all he taught me. Yes, the dog I always accused of being the dumbest dog ever taught me a great many things, many of them about myself.

The first thing was obvious and painful. He was never, despite my comments, a bad dog. No, I was the bad master, owner and human. Now, I do not mean I beat him or starved him or some other horrible thing. No, I just never opened myself up to him as fully as I could, or should. He always did for me and sometimes I did too, but not always. For that I still feel bad.

But he taught me other things too, on top of the importance of being open and honest with your feelings. He taught me unconditional love, patience, letting the little things go and perhaps most importantly giving yourself completely to those you love. I think if we all followed that one, we’d find we would get back so much more than we give.

I felt strongly at the time he left that I had to make some serious changes in my life. I wanted to go on and live, not just for me but him as well. I felt deeply it was important to be a better me, to take these lessons he so freely and easily and do better. I felt it important to show Logan I really did care and loved him so by doing right by his memory. To make it up to him in some small way for all the opportunities wasted when he was here. And to say I’m sorry for not giving him all the love he gave to me. Oh, we had some special times just him and me. For instance when I’d let him have a piece of ham while we were hanging out waiting for Kristen to come home; or even when he would climb all over me to grab an empty soda bottle on which to chew. But in retrospect we did not have nearly enough and I still regret wasting the precious gift of Logan.

But my success has been mixed, at best. A few things I have been successful with, but others I have let slide and the rest, I think in some ways I have gotten worse. I wonder if that big galoot is disappointed sometimes, or if he just thinks, dad is a goof and one day I’ll plow him over and lick his face. I hope it’s the second. So despite starts and stops, ups and downs and successes and failures, I continue to strive to make a better life for myself and Kristen, and now for our new additions.

Yes, we have new additions. It started with Tucker, our big black Labrador retriever/German Sheppard mix. We met Tucker but two weeks after Logan left. We were going out “just to look” because it was “too soon” to think about adopting a dog. But I think our hearts knew we needed someone. The post of head four legged furry creature was vacant, Logan would never want us to keep it unfilled, and as much as he tried Wilshire the cat is not suited for the job. Even Wilshire would tell you that.

So we took a drive and met Tucker. We fell in love almost immediately with the little guy napping in his crate in a noisy shelter. I even remarked, when we took him for a small walk, he had a pant that that sounded a lot like someone we used to know. Kristen still makes fun of me for that, but I could see it in her eyes too that she wanted the little guy. And so, we had a taker for that open post.

It’s been almost a year now with Tucker, and despite the craziness of a puppy growing like a huge weed, it has been wonderful. He is a sleek black, with brown eyes and an athlete’s body. And he can run like a bullet shot from a gun. That wicked speed took some getting used to, since the only time Logan turned on the jets was to head for the food bowl. But Tucker, he turns it on all the time and it still amazes me.

But we didn’t stop there. Thanks to a veterinary technician with a soft touch for a wife, we also in the last few months added a golden retriever to our brood. His name is Bailey, a runt about half the size of Logan, and much lighter in color. And he does some things that remind us very much of Logan. He wags his whole butt when he’s happy, he smiles and has a big need to have a toy in his mouth and is happy to give you the golden paw when he’s happy and wants attention.

Tucker and Bailey get along like peas and carrots. Their unique differences mesh together almost perfectly. Plus they are both so very handsome, and look almost like a matched set. Together they bring untold joy and happiness to our home, and the surface of that has only been scratched. The thought of years ahead with both of them brings a smile, and a smack upside the head anticipating their nutty antics to me right now. We didn’t intend, or think, we needed two dogs to be the successor of one. But that’s what we got and without even knowing it, exactly what we needed.

I like to think that Logan, as a big orange guardian angel, directed us to both Tucker and Bailey, to give us two special guys to make us happy and for us to do the same with them. I also think that orange guardian angel frequently whispers things into both of their ears, especially to do the bad things that drive us nuts. Like how to shred toys efficiently, beg for food, harangue us for attention constantly, that dinner time is the ultimate time of day and dozens of other naughty, frustrating yet wonderful things. And I have told both of them often, at night time when they are tucked into their crates and falling to sleep, that whatever that orange guardian angel tells them to do, no matter how goofy it sounds or that it might drive mommy and daddy nuts, you two make sure you follow those instructions implicitly. Because Logan knows best.

At least with Tucker and Bailey, I have taken one of Logan’s lessons to heart. I never hold back my love for them. Oh sure, when they are being incredibly bad, I yell. But I am never shy about jumping on the floor with them and playing, petting, hugging and kisses on the head. I also try not to take for granted the little things with this pair. From the funny way Tucker chases light to how Bailey flops on you when he wants attention, I try to soak in every moment and goofy thing both of them do. I think with these lessons learned Logan would be proud.

But there is much more I can do. And I know Logan watches and waits, and the day I really turn that corner, a giant gust of wind will be at my back, because he’ll be proud of me and wagging his tail. And with that wind at my back, everything will finally fall into place.

I still feel sad from time to time, but now it’s a good sad. I miss him, and feel it often, but the thoughts of him now make me nostalgic instead of terribly sad. Sometimes, though, I still expect to see him wander into the living room, toy firmly in mouth smiling ridiculously and tail wagging madly. But what I usually get is a black tornado flying around a small golden dervish as the two of them play themselves exhausted. And that new sight makes me smile as much as the memory of the old one.

And so on that note, before I ramble further and trust me I could go on for days, I bring this tale to an end. I’m sure I’m missing details, and I know I’ve left out a thousand stories of that big sweet boy that capture his inimitable personality and spirit. But perhaps when more Tucker and Bailey stories are further written in our lives and memories, the time to share tales of all three boys will come. For now, I want to give one more goodbye and a thank you to you Logan. Thank you for all the love, all the lessons, all the fur, slobber, smiles, goofiness and warm, sweet memories. You will always be in our thoughts and hearts, you big galoot.

Reckless Power Induced Meltdown

2009-03-24T17:32:00.000-04:00

I am everyman, and everyman has had it.

Ok, perhaps I’m not everyman, but I do think I feel as most of us do. I find myself on a daily basis fed up with the greed and irresponsibility of our financial institutions. I sigh exasperatedly at the ineffectualness and lack of concern of those we place in positions of power and authority. I bristle with each news report of failing businesses, lost homes and shattered lives. And I tremble with impotent rage as I watch those in the halls of power find it better to bicker and snipe at one another instead of actually sitting down and working out how to not only fix our current docket of problems, but also put this great country back on a successful path for all of our long term futures.

It’s the latter that really sits in my craw and I’m not sure which part of it bothers me most. Yes, the constant arguing and name calling are bothersome and completely infantile. I find it hard how we can tell children not to act in such childish ways when our elected representatives give them examples otherwise. The hypocrisy of both sides, however, may really be at the heart of my ever growing disdain.

Republicans now find themselves standing on their typical soap box screaming for smaller government and fiscal responsibility. Yet they were more than happy over the past 8 years to expand and spend. They could have kept their position in power had they reduced government over the last 8 years, but did they? No. If anything, government, federal spending and moving further down the path toward socialism only grew during that time period. Even they admit to it.

"Our party got away from its principles. You elected Republicans to champion limited government, fiscal discipline, and personal responsibility. Instead, Republicans went along with earmarks and big government spending in Washington." – Louisiana governor Bobby Jindal.

Gee you think so Bobby? But can you say with a straight face that Republicans just went along with the spending? Were they hogtied on the congressional floor and forced to sign spending bills, or were they pretty much fine with everything. And honestly, should we really want to be taking advice from any politician from Louisiana? We’ve seen all to well how that state has been run.

And we certainly did not hear a peep of protest about those particular policies from the Democrats, just constant vitriol soaked screeds on the war against terrorism. They knew the average Joe did not like seeing young boys come home in boxes. So as long as they squawked enough about that, perhaps no one would notice them not harping about the expanding government.

Conservative representatives carp vigorously that President Obama’s stimulus package will drive the country toward socialism. Their position is putting our government in charge of free enterprise takes the freedom out of it. Are they right? By sheer definition, yes it is. More taxes, increased debt and larger government are never good things and do make us a people far more dependant upon our government than our forefathers ever intended. However things are never that black and white. Unfortunately though things have come to a point that if nothing is done now to create jobs and increase consumer confidence, there will be nothing left about which to complain.

But of course the yin to their yang, the trusty Democrats, does not see things that way. They prefer to grumble that Republicans will not support these, we’re told, necessary actions and that the more they drag their feet and resist, the worse things will become. But what they conveniently forget is when Bush told the country we needed to help out these flagging institutions last fall, all they did was criticize until they became hoarse.

Neither party seems willing to admit they both had a hand in creating this mess. From the industry deregulations in the late 1990s to the lessons unlearned from the dot com bust in the early part of this decade. Each side at different times has bemoaned giving away the money of the American people, not for true concern of our well being but merely for good press. And no matter the amount of protests lodged, both went along with the handouts. Neither wants to recognize that as soon as they gave failing companies money with barely a restriction or a serious debate, then everyone wanted a slice of magic pie. They both helped turn Wall Street into Welfare Street.

It’s easy to sit in judgment of one side when you blatantly ignore the errors created by your own compatriots.

My favorite hypocrite thus far has to be Rush Limbaugh and his screed for Obama to fail. Limbaugh maintains his reasoning is he does not want to see the US turn into a socialist state. With that I will admit we are in complete agreement. A bloated government which demands increasing taxes to maintain itself is never good. But a government that has transformed itself to make the people completely dependent upon it is even more frightening.

However, Limbaugh’s stand that he and the Republicans and are the last line of defense against a socialist government is nothing more than a carefully crafted career booster. Rush Limbaugh is an entertainer. He works in the entertainment field. His particular niche is conservative political talk radio. His job does not affect public policy or to enact legislation. His job is to produce ratings and revenue.

Limbaugh is not beholden to some particular political ideology as he would have you believe. He is beholden to the same thing anyone in any form of entertainment is, his sponsors. He may sound as though he is filled with great rage and concern at the direction of our country, but he loves this. It behooves him more if Obama succeeds. Any success the president has with his agenda gives Limbaugh endless amounts of material for his program and garners him tons of outside press as he rails against the president and his policies.

This expands his fan base, drives up ratings and revenue and increases his power and monetary compensation. I’d bet right now he probably has the best ratings he’s had in years. Do you honestly think Limbaugh wants Obama to fail? I don’t. He knows failure from our current executive branch could have dire consequences to everyone; he’s not a stupid man. I’d bet secretly rooting for Obama to succeed gloriously. I would not be surprised if he found a way to secretly donate to the Obama 2012 campaign just to keep the good times rolling.

Now do I think Obama’s plan is good? I’m on the fence. Long term it will be painful and potentially disastrous, but if it sparks something now, and the country could build on that, we’ll let’s say I’m cautiously not negative. And I’m not crazy about the loads of pork that can be found within the stimulus package. But right now, whether it is good or bad is immaterial. It’s a plan. It’s not the best one, but it is a course of action. If it works, great, if not, then we create a new one. But at least we have a starting point and path on which to follow. I just wish I’d hear more constructive criticism and cooperation from both sides toward a better solution than hypocritical speeches and childish antics.

It boggles my mind that there are seemingly no longer any rational level headed people left in our government. Apparently everyone operates with the attitude of if you are not with me you are against me. Each party member speaks in sound bites instead of thought out, reasoned responses. They do not generate ideas but parrot buzz words. At this point, if anyone even entered those halls with common sense and a desire to reason, I imagine he or she would be labeled a heretic and blasphemer and run out of town on a rail.

I determined for myself long ago, our two major parties are two sides of the same coin. Publicly they battle each other in partisan shouting matches meant to split the populous into an us against them battle in which we become too distracted by empty rhetoric and too short sighted to see the benefit of compromise and working together rather than tearing at those who oppose our opinions and beliefs to notice the truth.

Sure, each party goes about things in a different way but amazingly they manage to arrive at the same destination. Democrats prefer saccharine, saying they will take care of us and all that ails. Republicans prefer the hammer, playing on our fears and then comforting us by saying they will take care of all that frightens us.

Each will complain all they want, bitch about other and call each other out in the media and on the congressional floor. Their ads and campaigns can spew the most furious oratory one can imagine and they can make firm public stands as to what they believe in and how all those who oppose should be considered enemies, but at the end of the day it’s nothing but hot air. They need each the other equally to survive and succeed. They must have it. Without a common enemy, how would they be able to define themselves as the hero in the white hat? I think we all learned how that works thanks to years of USA vs. USSR and a heaping helping of John Wayne.

So they continue on publicly berating each other and trivializing each other’s beliefs and ideologies merely to divide and distract us. Even though if you move past the sound bites and really listen to what each has to say you will find merit in each party. While outside the limelight they pat each other on the back, have a cocktail and a chuckle while reveling in the power they brandish while hoping we as a people never notice that the only one really getting played the fool is us.

The disturbing part is despite knowing their hypocrisy, we as a people are unfortunately forced to put our faith and trust in institutions that have done nothing to justify said faith and everything to erode our trust. We need to stand up as a people and demand more from our politicians and get involved in our government and country’s well being. We need more motivated, bright and eager people to want to take on the mantle of public service. Perhaps I should lead by example and get off my duff and get to work instead of complaining ad nausea about the state of things. I have a bright and eager mind. I would love to do something positive to make a difference. Would you put your faith and trust in me, or would that be too hypocritical?

Random Observations V - The Asinine Strikes Back

2009-02-25T23:25:00.000-05:00

Welcome one and all to my favorite running gag, I mean skewed look at our world, Random Observations. One stupid idea and I’ve dragged enough mileage out of it for a fifth post. And fear not, it will go on indefinitely, or until I become massively bored. Whilst I work on a few other long standing ideas, I thought I’d give everyone a platter of appetizers to enjoy. So dig in!

Gatorade is now G, because cool people don’t like words!

Whoa, the new Blackberry Storm, it has no keyboard, its, its, its…just like an iPhone! Who would have thought Blackberry would have gone in that direction, considering the massive popularity of Apple’s latest triumph. How long before Bill Gates rolls out XPhone?

Thank you Levi’s, for promoting and encouraging compulsive lying, unprotected sex with strangers and breaking and entering. Good job, douches you not only have you shown your irresponsibility, but you’ve made me sound like some old man complaining about the kids today.

'I don't want to be picked unless you're picking me for my judgment.” Vice President Joe Biden to Barack Obama prior to being named the vice presidential candidate. Uhhhhh, Joe, is this the same judgment that thought it ok to plagiarize that Neil Kinnock speech in 1987? If so, I know I’m concerned if Obama leans too heavily upon you.

An all natural pizza from Pizza Hut? Is the grease natural too? By the way, is anyone really fooled by those hidden camera commercials their pimping now? Does anyone honestly believe customers of a high end Italian restaurant in New York or an actual Italian restaurant in Italy were fooled into thinking the stuff Pizza Hut schleps in their red roofed shacks was high end fare?

The Snuggie blanket; for those who find robes irritating and would rather wear a cloak with no hood backwards. Ok, the Snuggie looks ultra ridiculous, and it may very well be warm, comforting and convenient. But they advertise this thing as something that could keep one warm at sporting events. And if I ever went to an outdoor event and saw someone break this contraption out said event would not last long enough for me to make serious fun.

Not to take anything away from the actual inauguration or its historical significance, but does anyone else find the moving aspect of the transfer of power fascinating? The Bush family woke up in the White House on January 20th, did their final preparations for the ceremony then left. Afterward their personal possessions were removed and replaced with those of the Obama family. And after Barack and Michelle finished with their last ball, they went home to the White House as though they had been living there for years. I find this process extremely interesting, yet it’s highly under reported.

I didn’t think dowries existed anymore. Beyond the head shaking disgust of the story, I have but one question. Exactly what kind of justice did the father expect to get when he explained the situation to the police, and they found out he sold his 14 year old daughter to an 18 year old man for cash, meat and beer? I have no idea what he wanted, but I’m glad he got at least some of the treatment he deserved.

Wait, another story of a father selling his young girl for money? Look, I know times are tough, but when did it become ok to sell young girls to lecherous old men? And I know different cultures have different standards, but cannot we agree across the board that selling children, girls or boys, into servitude or forced marriages when they’re barely old enough to know right from wrong is never ok? Chris Hanson, we need you now more than ever.

Television shows with the word Project in the title are just that, projects. Sorry, but I’ll wait for the finished product, thank you.

Between MTV, Comedy Central and Cartoon Network, I have come to the conclusion that if you’re weird looking and have no shame, you too can have a TV show. Seriously at this point, is any of their programming entertaining unless you’re in an altered state? Trust me I am not the one to bust on altered states, as I myself like a belt of something strong from time to time. But watching two fat guys sitting on a couch waving at me through my TV does not constitute entertainment in my book.

Ugg, another reality chef show with a pompous ass as the head chef/host where he takes perverse pleasure in psychologically torturing and abusing people because he doesn’t agree with how they prepare chicken parmesan? Did not Hell’s Kitchen cover this fertile, and by fertile I mean manure ridden, ground? Watching some arrogant twit compare kitchens and chefs to armies and generals whilst treating a kitchen as a combination torture chamber/battlefield, it takes all the joy and pleasure of food away for me. And thinking that this sort of infantile behavior probably exists in most restaurants makes me want to just stay home and make a sandwich. I know the idea behind these programs is to show some sort of drama infused competition, but all it’s succeeding to do in my mind is turn me off from the restaurant industry altogether. Oh and by the way chef Marco Pierre White, I tend to avoid eating food created and prepared by a man who thinks dress shirt, slacks, tie and suspenders combined with checkerboard slip on shoes and no socks is a good sartorial choice.

This story goes back to Thanksgiving, but still makes my head pound. I wonder about the sanity of us as a society when trampling someone in order to buy goods seems ok. I wonder too about us when no one stops to help the injured man, just continue to run over him to save a buck. And honestly, does Wal-Mart really have that great of merchandise that you need to stampede like rattled cattle in order to obtain it?

Fine, I’ll admit it. I like Katy Perry. I thought admitting it would make the shame go away, but it’s only worse.

General Motors and Chrysler claim to need an additional 21.6 billion dollars in relief funds to continue their turnaround. While on the surface, this sounds asinine, in reality it’s a great idea and a necessary course of action. We need to help keep these companies running, because if they fail, their benefits and retirement programs would be foisted upon the American public, and if you thought things were bad now, being saddled with that financial responsibility could destroy taxpayers. What sticks in my craw though is they claim this additional need is based in part because of a worsening demand for their vehicles. Gentlemen, if you would like people to demand your product, the solution is simple. BUILD A BETTER AUTOMOBILE!

TiVo guilt? Really? I’m pretty much convinced that there are too many people that live in a bubble of their own making and have little to no grasp regarding the reality of the world around them. I call this story corroborating evidence exhibit # 987,546.

What was that, you enjoy people foolishly operating in their hermetically sealed bubbles? No problem, then take a gander at corroborating evidence exhibit #987,547. Considering the current state of the world and our economy, that a strike is even being debated is mind boggling. I know the actor’s union has many valid points, and the fact that they continue to work even though their previous contract expired last June does give them a certain level of credibility when negotiating for the best deal. But people, wake up and look at the world around you. Millions are losing their jobs and their homes, and you want to argue about what boils down to pennies? I find this as aggravating as the writer’s strike, but more boneheaded considering the current national financial climate.

And here you will find corroborating evidence exhibit # 987,548 of a lack of reality in people’s thought process. You know, I thought our nation and world were teetering on the edge of financial catastrophe. Apparently I am wrong. Things must be all peaches and cream if people have the time to file lawsuits regarding trademark infringement over “Pull My Finger”

In other things iPhone, wow they’re making the rounds lately; I’m stunned by the Buddy Beacon application. You know this install, it allows you to track your friends and see where they are at any time. Does anyone realize that not only has Big Brother convinced you to voluntarily submit to tracking and monitoring, but he convinced you to pay for it as well? George Orwell never in his wildest nightmares saw this coming.

These must have been some pants. I suppose a tiny part of me can at least partially understand the judge’s frustration. I only have two pairs of pants nice enough to require dry cleaning, so if one were lost, I’d be ticked and in trouble too as right now I could not afford to replace them. But a $54 million lawsuit because of an error? I thought judges typically abhorred frivolous lawsuits.

He can pump out all the TV shows and movies he wants, but what I’m really waiting for is the premiere of Tyler Perry’s World Domination.

This question has been on my mind lately. Who do you think would win in a fight, Billy Mays or Vince from ShamWow? Billy has the size, but I think Vince looks as though he has that wiry strength and probably has better stamina so I’m giving him the edge.

Everyone has seen or heard of Joaquin Phoenix’s “performance” on The Late Show right? David Letterman was hilarious; Joaquin not so much. Questions abound as to whether Joaquin has a substance abuse problem or this current version of himself is merely an act for a documentary spoof lampooning Hollywood pomposity. If he does have a problem, then this situation is sad. Especially considering he recently played Johnny Cash, a man whose life almost imploded due to substance abuse, and his brother died from a drug overdose. If this is an act, then it moves from sad to insulting to those with substance problems and pathetic. Joaquin, whatever your intended idea is behind the spoof it does not come off that way. It comes off as lame, sad, offense and highly callous considering your own family’s pain and struggle in the aftermath of substance abuse. Use your talent to entertain, not create a faux train wreck. We get enough of that thanks to “reality” TV.

I know stories like this happens everyday no matter the economic climate, but they seem to be more poignant and heartbreaking now. People, pets are a responsibility not only emotionally and physically, but fiscally too and providing love, care and a home can become expensive. If you have any doubt you may be able to properly provide for them, do not adopt. It will only cause far more problems for you and them later down the road. If you take on the responsibility of caring for another living creature, live up to it. People have too cavalier an attitude when it comes to pets that if things become tough or they become inconvenient, it’s ok to just give them up. You would not behave that way if it were children.

Oh, wait. Yes some would. Wow, I thought the previous story was sad. This brings heartbreak and pain to a whole new depressing level. I’m not sure what punches me in the solar plexus harder, the thought of what will happen to these children and the sadness it brings, or the irresponsibility of the parents and how no matter their protestations that they are trying to do the right thing to help their kids I cannot believe them and just want to pound on them until my arms tire. Doing the right thing is not abandoning them. It’s providing them with love, care, understanding and finding a way no matter what to do those things. One woman said not to judge her, because she loves her son but there is no help. Well lady, you make your own help! You find a way, you do whatever it takes, you sacrifice; you live up to the responsibility you assumed when you became a parent. My parents faced tough times with two boys; they never dumped us at a hospital or orphanage or on relatives or just abandoned us. They worked hard to provide the necessities and a few niceties as well. One of my favorite most touching stories is of Steeler wide receiver Hines Ward’s mother who similarly faced tough times as these parents are, but she never gave up. She worked three jobs in a country where she did not know the language, just to make sure she could provide for her son properly and be a mother to him. And by living up to her responsibility as a parent, her son thrived, got a college education and became wildly successful at his job. I will sit in judgment of these people, because if they give up this easily on caring FOR THEIR OWN CHILDREN, then they deserve as much scorn as we can muster. The only consolation I can take is at least they didn’t sell them.

Before I go on a depression induced drinking binge and a stupidity induced rampage where I smack dumb people upside the head, thank goodness there comes along some true heroes. In our society, we tend to lionize people for trivial matters too often. There may be some well meaning thoughts behind our behavior, but it still boils down to extraneous praise and hero worship heaped upon those who in the macrocosm of things are undeserving. I am not trying to degrade anyone, just attempting to point out how we sometimes confuse our priorities and muddle the true definition of heroism. I like many of us revel in the joys, sorrows and laughter provided by sports and entertainment. The work of the people in these arenas brings happiness to many and enriches our lives. However, what they do does not make them heroes and I feel most of them would agree.

With our idol worship of entertainment figures, we overlook the true heroes amongst us. Those who work hard to be the best they can at demanding positions, those who carry the burden of keeping the rest of us safe and secure without complaint, those who foist the responsibility of lives, families, livelihoods and so much more upon their shoulders just by performing their chosen profession, those who take to heart the meaning of the phrase personal responsibility. These people constitute the backbone of our society, assuming accountability for so much we hold dear without request for fame or fortune. And we should all be eternally grateful that in these positions are men and women like Chesley B. "Sully" Sullenberger and his crew who take this responsibility seriously and never shirk from their duties no matter how difficult they may be. I am glad there are still people out there who shrug when facing situations like he did and the rightful adulation that follows; not because of arrogance or foolishness but because they accept the responsibility of their station and follow through on the promise to do the best job possible because that is what you are supposed to do. So thank you Captain Sullenberger and all of the crew of Cactus 1549, your actions not only saved lives but have helped restore a bit of faith in humanity and shown us all that no matter what we do, if we do our best and hold ourselves accountable we can all make a positive impact in our world.

Sea Change

2009-01-22T03:13:00.000-05:00

Like most Americans I watched the inauguration with renewed pride in our country. I recognized the historical and cultural significance of seeing an African American sworn in as our leader, without having to be told so by Katie Couric. Now, I know that this represents an important moment in our history as a country and as humans. However I also know that I will never feel the importance of the moment as much as African Americans, or any minority, will feel from Obama’s crowning moment. I just cannot. As a white man, my experience in our world does not give me the proper perspective. I have never felt prejudice or discrimination. I have never been discriminatory nor shown hatred of any kind, but I am not naïve enough to think they no longer exist.

I remember a moment when standing outside a hotel for a conference with an African American friend of mine when a woman came up to him asking him to retrieve her car from valet. Because of the color of his skin, she automatically assumed he worked such a job. This particular gentleman was an IT whiz and one of the brightest people I have known. At the time, I laughed at the absurdity of the situation because it seemed so crazy to me she would even think he would be a valet, as I knew him and never would have thought him to work in such a position. But long after the event, I realized how insulted he was by having this woman assume him to be nothing more than one who works in the service industry. It made me realize that while my experience in our world thus far has been free of such things many others have felt the sting of being considered second class citizens. Because of this, I will never feel the relief, pride and joy that African Americans and minorities in general felt on that historic day.

But one thing I can relate to easily is our new President’s call for change. I know this feeling and thought process intimately, as it has been the theme of my life for close to two years now. My wife and I set ourselves upon a course in 2007 to change our lives in hope for a better future. We made massive decisions that required difficult sacrifices in our lives that were painful, but the hope was that if these changes worked out we would have a better future for ourselves. These changes were born from hope. Hope for a better future, a better tomorrow and a better life built together. And was that not the ideals that Obama ran upon? The promise of hope for a better tomorrow and a better future if only we can make sacrifices and work toward change?

Because my personal hopes and changes parallel our new leader’s obviously I’m rooting for him. Yes, I had the same misgivings as many, doubting his ability based upon his experience. But like many, I came to the same conclusion. If you are intelligent, hold a clear vision and a solid plan and surround yourself with intelligent and eager people, how can you not succeed at anything you try? And why should youth be a hindrance or considered a liability when we need fresh ideas and a sense of idealism right now? And I brave to ask the question no one else has, how can you be properly experienced to be the leader of the free world? I have never seen any courses in any university to prepare one for such a task. It truly is a job you must learn while doing, and as one who has spent his entire career thus far learning how to do each job he has held after the fact, I can empathize and understand the challenges facing Obama. And if he is willing to take upon himself that task, then I am thrilled and proud to help him on the road to success.

Like most of us, I want Obama to succeed. I need him to succeed. If his call for change fails, then hope goes with it and all of us fall further into despair and trouble. And I cannot have that. If my hopes based upon my changes are to succeed, if the decisions my wife and I made for our lives are ever to bear the fruits I hope they will, then I need this sea change called for by our new President to flourish. If it does not, then all could be lost for all of us.

Good luck Mr. President, know that we are behind you and rolling up our sleeves, making the needed sacrifices and ready to work. All I ask is be true to your call to arms and do not cave to those who aided in creating this mess. If you do, we will all be sorely disappointed and unfortunately once again fooled into believing hope can triumph over experience. And for once in the history of this great nation, we need hope to triumph.

Thanksgiving Wishes

2008-11-27T01:41:00.000-05:00

Happy Thanksgiving everyone. I know, I have been rather absent as the year has started to draw to a close. It has been a very exciting, action packed, adventurous, scary, busy and crazy year. I know I must not be the only one, but it has been something else. As today approached, I have been thinking hard of all the things I have been thankful for this year. This year has been, easily, one of the most eventful years of my life. More has happened to me, and I have embarked on more adventures, than I thought possible. I have allowed myself to take a few moments to pause and think of the impact all of these things have had on me, and what they mean to me.

And we all should this time of year. As always, I think we should use this opportunity, amidst the turkey, sports, parades and naps, to take a moment and reflect upon our lives. We should take a few moments this day and look at our lives and see all that we have, personally, for to be thankful. In a dangerous world where many things seem to be hopeless and the news a never ending parade of sadness and fear, we tend to forget the good things that have happened to us.

I have more than a few things to be thankful for this year. And if you will allow me a moment of indulgence, I would like to share them with you, and give thanks for each one. I have shared some of these with you before, but they remain as strong to me now as they did previously. A few of these will be new, and they mean the world to me as well.

I am thankful for….

….good friends both close and far away. As we go through life, new people enter it all the time and old people tend to leave it. Be it because of changes in us, or them, time or distance, we tend to lose friends along the way, left only in our memories. I am thankful that I have some really dear friends in my life that I have known for a long time. That after much time, distance, moving, changes in our lives, our careers, our tastes, likes and dislikes we have managed to stay friends and keep close is not only a wonder, but much to be thankful for. I am very thankful that I have kept, and continue to keep, these beautiful souls in my life. Today I will miss a good portion of them, as we are rather scattered by life, fate and design. But all of them will be in my mind and heart.

…. my family. This year I am thankful that I have the opportunity to spend this day with my loving parents that helped me become the man I am today and a wondrous brother who never ceases to amaze and entertain me.

….the people that protect and defend me, those I love, and everyone else in this country. Thank you for all that you do. It does not go unnoticed.

….my loving in-laws. You will never hear from me any mother in law or father in law jokes, because mine are wonderful, caring and kind people who have happily accepted me into their family with open arms. I am thankful that I have the opportunity to spend today with them as well. It is a long time coming, and far overdue.

…. my pets. I am thankful for Wilshire, our big fat cat who’s quirky and dingy personality still makes me laugh. I am thankful for Logan, our golden retriever who unfortunately passed away this year. Each day I think of him, miss him, wish he were still here and thank God for the time I had with the big Galoot. What I learned, and still learn, from his big happy orange self still amazes, astounds and humbles me. And I am thankful for Tucker, our new Labrador Retriever mix puppy who has brought new joy, new happiness and new energy into our home. He has been instrumental in helping us get past Logan’s passing, bringing us happiness and closer together, and making our house once again a home.

….the most wonderful wife for which any man could ask or want. I am beyond lucky to be with a beautiful, intelligent, sexy, caring and sweet woman, who is far kinder, nicer, and loves me more than I could ever deserve. And this Thanksgiving is even more special for us and me, as this year she became my wife. Nothing I have done or have been a part of means more to me than the moment she said I do. I have said this before, but I could say it every day and it would never lose its meaning. She is understanding, caring, patient, loving and most important; she loves me for exactly who I am, warts and all. She is easily the best thing that has ever happened to me, and I’ve had more than a few great things happen to me in my life. I am thankful not only to have her as a part of my life, but also that she is my wife and we can look forward to a lifetime of love, laughter, happiness, sadness, joy and tears together.

These are things that are very meaningful to me, and I feel strongly about giving thanks for having them all in my life. No amount of money, material goods or societal trappings could give me the joy and love that each of the above brings me. Everyone out there please make your own list, and think of the things in your life that bring you true joy and happiness not only today, but each day. Remind yourself each day of these things, especially as you go through your day to day lives. We can get so wrapped up in the minutiae of everyday life, we tend to forget what is really important to us. Keep these things close, so you do not lose sight of what is truly important in your own lives.

I know many of us out there probably do not think they have that much for to be thankful, especially this year considering the state of our economy and our world.. And I know there are those out there who have lost more than they have gained this year, and can right now only look upon these times of joy with tears and sadness. But remember, if the joy was not there originally, the sadness would not be there now. You have people in your life that you can lean on through the tough times, and that is something for which you can give thanks. If you know someone who is having a hard time this year, or less fortunate than you, reach out to them, give them a shoulder to cry on, a leg to stand on, a friend to talk to and to spend time with. Giving comes after thanks, and both should always go hand in hand. Remember, if you have a few good friends and family, you have more than most. If you can find a way to come together for this day and spend time with each other, you have all you really need this day. Best wishes this Thanksgiving Day to one and all.

Random Observations IV - A New Dope

2008-10-12T03:19:00.000-04:00

Hi everyone. I know, it’s been far too long. Well, when you get married 2500 miles from where you live, spend a week honeymooning, and then the ensuing 3 months preparing to completely uproot your life and trying to find a new one, you tend to get far busier than you expected. But fear not, while the world has kept on turning, much of the nonsense that occurs on a daily basis has not gone unnoticed.

Do you know when you have really reached adulthood? When you realize you no longer have the time to indulge in the impetuous of youth. You’ve hit adulthood when you can no longer spend some time being melancholy and sad because you heard a sad song. You can no longer revel in euphoric joy because you achieved a minor victory. Nor can you spend a day in deep contemplation regarding the nature of humanity or why we exist because these questions confound and interest you. No, now you have responsibilities and obligations that require tending and you no longer have time or luxury to explore and delve into emotions and contemplations for the sake of it. Well, you don’t unless you’re rich or spoiled.

What is it about people who feel the need to tout generalized statements about the obvious yet do nothing? I saw some douche bag on road recently who wrote in the dirt of his car that he thought War Sucks. Well, duh. I have yet to meet anyone who thinks war is cool. But what is he doing about it? This is why protests never work. People just go out there and protest what they hate, getting themselves worked up into a nice froth and go home feeling vindicated that they’ve made their voice heard. But they have accomplished absolutely nothing. They have not stopped what they so vehemently oppose, they have not change the world and most likely they have not changed even a mind. All they have done is screamed themselves hoarse, made a big stink and tied up traffic. That’s it. Sorry to point this out, but it’s true.

A recently married friend gave me this advice near the date of my wedding. Find an answer to this question, how does it feel to be married. According to him, this is the most annoying question he’s been asked. I figured out the answer. The best response is: It feels great. I no longer need to worry about impressing the opposite sex or be concerned of what they think of me. I only need to worry about impressing my wife and of what she thinks of me. It’s a very liberating feeling.

I figured out why people keep acting stupid, and why that general attitude toward life is getting worse. It's being rewarded! Between frivolous lawsuits, companies advertising not to worry about the details of life because they'll take care of everything, the government bailing out those who’ve made stupid financial decisions, be them individuals or corporations and a general attitude that conveys the ideal that as long as you are confident and cool, you need not know anything of substance, people charge into life with no knowledge or perspective. This general attitude keeps people being clueless and dumb. It’s vogue to be ignorant. The saddest part of is that we eat it up!

Speaking of which, I have a great observation to pass on that I heard recently. Why is it considered socialist if a government to give money to the people to prop them up, but when they do the same thing for corporations it’s called a bail out.

Just an impression I had– The business and legal worlds – these worlds/professions/industries seemingly were created by bored individuals who decided to create new and fresh hoops through which to jump. A person’s word or handshake somewhere lost its luster, and a long, drawn out machination of nonsensical language and rules took its place. Why? Because this new paradigm they created would make the system and process more logical, honorable or intelligible? No, because it allowed more people to have pointless jobs that created more billable hours. I bet I get sued for this one.

Why do corporate training sessions incorporate things like attendees reading documentation aloud? All this does is generally spotlight shy put people on the spot, slow down the proceedings and give previously mentioned people serious stage fright.

I’ve said for some time that the only way we will ever see real movement in the realm of alternative energy sources, IE wind power and solar power, is when oil companies and oil barons find a way to make a profit from these endeavors. Well guess what? It finally happened and here is the proof.

Really? The International Olympic Committee needs to request the International Gymnastics Association to investigate the age of Chinese women’s gymnasts? A pair of eyes is no longer good enough to know those girls are far under the required age of 16? I’m not sure which I am, too cynical or too full of good old fashioned common sense.

Of course this will never happen. Far be it for anyone to upset the Chinese government. If they did, they might be shunned from peddling their products to the one billion plus consumers encased in the borders of China. How horrible would that be?

I have three letters for Usain Bolt. W-O-W. Usain, just a piece of advice. I know more than a few people have been giving you static about showboating at the end of the 100 meter dash. They can cram it with walnuts. When you are that much faster than your closest competition, you can showboat all you want and tell everyone else, over your shoulder of course, to suck eggs.

Michael Phelps may be the most decorated Olympian of all time, but that does not necessarily make him the greatest. I think the groundbreaking contributions of Jim Thorpe, Jesse Owens, Babe Didrikson, Tommie Smith and John Carlos might skew the argument. While those athletes may not have as many medals as Phelps, how they changed the games and the world puts them squarely in discussion of the greatest Olympian of all time. And while Phelps’ accomplishment is monumental, the previously mentioned Olympians, and others as well, may have done more to further the games themselves and equality in society at large.

Has anyone noticed how fast food restaurants try to make their product sounds so much better by souping up their advertisements? Does anyone really believe that these “restaurants” are seriously offering breakfast meals that offer contain farm fresh eggs, their lunches have sun ripened vegetables and whole grain breads or their dinners contain 100% beef or farm raised oven baked chicken? If so, I have this bridge for sale, it’s located in Brooklyn, just email me…..

The fast food chain Carl’s Jr. lately has been advertising natural cut French Fries. I’m just curious, so I’ll throw this out to anyone who can answer, but what exactly is an unnaturally cut French fry?

Here is yet another reason why I’m so very glad to have left Los Angeles. According to one of the local Los Angeles news stations, Lily Tomlin’s fight with her neighbors about trimming trees is headline news. And here I was like a fool thinking there were really big problems in this country and the world at large that needed to be focused upon.

I had a very interesting political discussion recently with a new acquaintance, and a few things came to light. Don’t blame politicians, only human. The current crises are our fault. We do not get involved. It’s our own fault those in charge behave this way. We bitch, moan and complain about their behavior, but never truncate it by voting them out of office. We reward it by continuing to give them their jobs back. If any real change is ever to occur, we need to get involved. Write, email and call our representatives and demand more. Vote them out if they do not perform. Start doing things for ourselves. Get involved by learning the issues, become educated and be able to form an intelligent opinion and make a stand. If we as a people do not get involved to make a difference, and casting a vote is no longer enough, then we deserve whatever comes to us.

Hold On

2008-06-07T05:55:00.000-04:00

Hi all,

I know, I promised much more by now. And trust me, product has been rolling off the line. But none of it is ready for market. A bunch is close, but not quite there.

Unfortunately, I'm taking a break for a bit. It won't be that long, but long enough that I felt the need to share it with you. The reasoning why will be clear in the future, but not any time soon.

But fear not. in the near future there will be more than a few exciting new things coming to take your mind off the upcoming absence. Including some interesting, and hopefully amusing, top 10 lists as well as a few pointed commentaries and a long overdue idea spurred from a comment made by a loyal reader.

So stay tuned. I'll be back before you know it with some fresh and hopefully fascinating items to fill your gullet and maybe create a spark or two. Thanks for checking in and I'll see you soon!

Random Observations III: Revenge of the Stupid

2008-05-23T14:17:00.001-04:00

Welcome to round three kids of the one trick idea that just won’t go away. Enough of the prologue; everybody into the pool!

Before we need to start collectively breathing into paper bags, let’s all take a small step back from the Miley Cyrus uproar and think about it for just one second. Do you really think that Ms. Cyrus, her parents, and her horde of handlers, honestly didn’t realize how much of an uproar those Vanity Fair photos would cause? Really? This kid, and her team who have spent countless hours carefully crafting an image just didn’t know how big of a stir some half clothed pics would truly create? A child who comes from a family with a father who had a moment of superstardom would not know how an image can cause a ripple in the pond? Of course they knew! That’s why it was published because it would cause a big stir. And more importantly, they did it because it would drum up a lot of press and sell a ton of magazines. And to everyone who sits back in judgment and condemns her, her parents, Annie Lebowitz, Vanity Fair and our society for sexualizing a 15 year old girl (which is terrible by the way, please do not mistake this as a justification for their actions) let me ask you one question. When you read the article, how fast did you click on the links to see the photographs in question just to be “outraged”?

I saw a bumper sticker recently on a Chevy Cobalt that said, “Built with tools, not chop sticks.” Besides the fact that the sticker is incredibly offensive, it also shows the stupidity of the car’s owner. I drive a Toyota Tacoma. While Toyota is a Japanese company, not many people realize that the Tacoma is designed, built and assembled in America from start to finish. If you look at Toyota’s overseas market, you will not find a Tacoma anywhere. The Tacoma line of mid size trucks is solely, and uniquely, American. Chevy vehicles on the other hand, while made by an American car company, are more often only designed in the US. And as GM closes more US based manufacturing plants we find most of the American car manufacturers have their parts and vehicles built and assembled overseas. The Cobalt is less American than the Tacoma I drive, which is supposedly built by “chopsticks”. I guess facts get in the way of jingoistic stupidity.

For one NBA game last season, the Los Angeles Lakers wore throwback uniforms that included the shorter shorts teams sported in the 80’s. The response to these uniforms was underwhelming, to say the least. Laker superstar and perennial selfish jackass Kobe Bryant even went so far as to say he “felt violated” wearing that particular version of the Laker uniform. After hearing that, I don’t know whether to make a joke, vomit or just smack that twit upside the head.

Did you ever have a dream where you are in a situation that is completely lifelike except for one thing? And the situation is where you happen to be sleeping? For example, I had a dream recently where I was lying in bed and looking into my closet, and a wolf was sitting right in front of the closet doors. Everything seemed real as though I were just lying there awake, but I was asleep and my subconscious added the wolf. It was very strange. What I want to know is, were my eyes open? Am I the only one who has dreams like this?

If they ever create a device that can record and broadcast, on a television, a person’s dreams, I will totally buy it. Heck, I’ll buy two. And I’ll put it one on my dog. I would LOVE to know what a dog dream consists of. Is it all snacking and petting, or does he dream in action sequences? Some of them have to be action dreams; I’ve seen his legs move and heard the yips coming from him in the throws of a particularly intense dream. Very intriguing.

Some cults get their followers to join with promises of a better life, and then tell the initiates that if they all kill themselves they will travel by spaceship to the previously promised better life. Here’s the question potential cult members should always ask themselves. How can I enjoy this better life where the spaceship takes us if I’m dead?

A jack of all trades is an apprentice renaissance man.

Christine Beatty stepped down as chief of staff for Detroit Mayor Kwame Kilpatrick in January, due to the fact she could no longer effectively carry out her duties. This inability to perform her duties stemmed from the fact her and Kilpatrick carried on an illicit affair that began in 2002 and may or may not have stretched to present day. The affair was brought to light the previous year, but only confirmed once text messages of a salacious nature between the two were revealed. Critics have been looking for Kilpatrick to resign, stating that he has broken the public’s trust and nothing he said could be believed. This came from the fact that both Beatty and Kilpatrick lied under oath in 2007 about the nature of their relationship when a whistleblower drug them on the stand and had Detroit police officers who were assigned to protect the mayor reveal their knowledge of the affair. Many have stated that this situation has caused a crisis of leadership. I should say so. I mean, you’re two of the most powerful people in Detroit, the mayor and his closest aide, and you communicate with each other like 14 year old girls? The crisis is not in the affair or aftermath; powerful men and women regularly exercise in extramarital shenanigans. Look through the history of our leadership in this country, you’ll find far more examples of powerful men bedding women to whom they are not wed. It does not make it right, but unfortunately it is nothing new. No, the true crisis is that prominent Detroit leaders are spending their day text messaging each other like love struck junior high students instead of worrying about the welfare of the constituents that granted them the charge of leadership or worrying about the state of their city and how to make it better. And people wonder why Detroit consistently ranks in the crapper amongst major cities.

Is anyone else amazed at how quickly, and without much fanfare, it became acceptable for men to have both ears pierced? I remember when men started getting one ear pierced how it was a huge deal. Somewhere down the line, and fairly recently, that switched to getting both pierced, and barely a word was said. It’s so common now it would seem odd to see someone with only one ear pierced. How odd.

Perhaps Britney Spears would not be under siege if photographers, videographers and paparazzo were not constantly swarming about her every move in order to fill air time with ridiculous shows such as E! Television’s special, Britney Under Siege.

You want to know what’s really wrong with our society, read this article. I still cannot figure out how this scum of a human being has not yet been drug out into the streets and beaten to death.

The FDA now warns that Botox is dangerous and can cause death. Shocking! Who would have thought that injecting Botox, a strain of botulism, into your body for vanity’s sake could be dangerous? Isn’t vanity one of the 7 DEADLY sins? Who would have thought it could kill? Personally, I’m stunned.

There is something satisfying, and seemingly right, about living in an area that when a discussion turns to carbs, the conversation is about auto parts and not diets.

Primate researchers have garnered photographic evidence of gorillas mating face to face. The previous line of thinking was that only humans and bonobos were the only primates to mate in this fashion. What I want to know is why the big stink that human type sexual behavior has been observed in gorillas? Big deal. Thousands of humans have been caught mating doggy style, that doesn’t make us dogs. What makes us dogs is not calling the next day.

Does anyone else find it odd that at the beginning of The Karate Kid, Daniel-san ends up at the beach his first day in town, even though he lives in Reseda which, trust me, is nowhere near the beach and he has no car of his own. And that he has mad soccer skills somehow developed in that soccer hotbed of New Jersey? Is it just me?

Whenever you witness some inconsiderate jackass doing something stupid, rude, crude or downright selfish, just remember this is what is going through their tiny little pea sized brains. “Those signs and rules you see, like the one that says this line 10 items or less or merging traffic yield, you don’t have to worry about those. They don’t apply to you; you’re special.”

I don’t care if it really is a secret formula developed and used in Europe for years and now available in the US for the first time. Nor do I care if it is a special mixture made from secret extracts found deep within the rain forest. It will never help you lose weight. No one wants to hear that, because the idea of shoving whatever food they want down their gullets while popping a magic pill to stay thin is too wonderful a dream to pass up. These flashy products are called supplements. As in, they should be supplementing what you are already dong. They are not called wonder pills, and they will not shed the weight off you just by popping a few of them. If you want to lose weight the only successful way is exercise and diet modification.

And for that matter, just so you know Alli works by inhibiting your body’s ability to process fat. Which means your system just processes it as waste, and you eject it out, typically with messy results. There is no magic pill for weight loss. You cannot take a capsule or supplement or powder or drink, continue to eat like a pig and still lose weight. No one wants to hear it, nor do they want to admit it, since that means people have to give up the chips, fast food, cakes, candies, burgers, fries, topping laden pizzas and everything else that tastes just oh so good in the copious amounts they currently consume. The only way to successfully lose weight, and keep it off, is by eating healthier in smaller portions and getting off the couch and exercising that machine called your body.

Plus, let’s all recognize one painful fact. Most overweight people do not eat because they are hungry. They eat because they are sad, depressed, exasperated or just plain bored. No amount of dietary supplement or appetite suppressant is going to conquer emotional binge eating.

You know, before she dove into the deep end of celebrity insanity and threw her proverbial weight of fame around and derailed the proceedings Roseanne really had an excellent, poignant, touching and meaningful show.

Is anyone else getting the feeling that Jim Carrey is out to single handedly destroy the wit, wisdom, magic and wonder of Dr. Seuss?

To those who feel comfortable picking your feet in public parks, slipping out of your shoes in waiting rooms or wandering around department stores sans shoes, picking your ears with your keys as you walk down the street, driving or riding in a car with your shoes off and feet propped on the dash, picking your nose or butt anywhere in a public place, taking the time to perform personal grooming habits anywhere you are, brushing your teeth in an airport terminal still dressed in your pajamas as to set an example for your kids, also dressed in their pajamas (something shamefully I have actually witnessed first hand) or any of the millions of other little things people do that are way too casual, personal, or disgusting, please take note. Where you are doing these things is not your home. Please treat this public location properly and show some respect for yourself and the other people you have to share this space with. Get yourself cleaned up before you leave the house. Otherwise, stay there. I’ve had enough of having a lovely time submarined by witnessing some jackass feeling way too comfortable being too casual with their personal grooming habits or appearance in front of dozens to thousands of other people.

Obesity will forever be an issue in this country because restaurants, fast food establishments, the snack food industry, fitness industry and health care industry have far too much invested, and at stake, in everyone remaining fat and unhealthy.

By an unfortunate twist of fate, I happened to catch an episode of the abysmal show Project Runway. As I watched these nimrods fight over fashions that would never be worn by any average person, and catfight amongst each other, one thought consistently came to mind. Did the men and women of the 1940’s really fight and die to defend and preserve the freedom and sanctity of this country so we could have drivel like this?

I’d like to make a quick point on courtesy, more specifically the lack thereof in our society. I recently found myself on a long plane flight and observed two people on plane sitting near me that had to be told three times to turn off their personal electronics. Twice on overhead the flight crew announced this and finally a flight attendant had to come up to them and tell them specifically to turn off their gear. I know people tend to get bored on long flights and want to find ways to make the trip go faster, but they tell you to turn off those items for a reason, assholes. Personally after four and a half hours in the air, I’d like the last 15 minutes to be as uneventful as the first portion of the trip. I don’t want there to be some tension at the end because some idiot with a palm pilot would rather play solitaire than avoid the possibility of affecting the onboard flight systems. And another thing, both of these people were adults, not children. Never mind the bad example it sets for children, they are grown ups who should know that when you’re asked to do something of import, you should oblige for the good of everyone around them. They should not need to be told more than once to do something like a petulant child.

Is constructability a word? Apparently so, since Microsoft Word autocheck deemed it acceptable. It did not deem autocheck acceptable though. Such a strange twist to the English language.

Whoever created buzz word bingo for corporate meetings is a genius.

Just a thought or two about the mess former New York Governor Eliot Spitzer now infamously created. I’ll be honest, this is a funny situation. Not for Mrs. Spitzer certainly, as that poor woman has been put through the ringer. But for the rest of us it’s just a laugh riot. You think he may have possibly made the focus of his crackdown on crime prostitution rings so he could get good contacts and choice women for his own extracurricular activities?

Have you ever noticed how people who preach morality, extol it from the mountaintop and make it their business to be in everyone else’s tend to be the least moral amongst us and have the most skeletons in their closet? Oh I have. Just keep those in mind the next time I get on a soap box condemning the moral shortcomings of others.

Hillary Clinton has stated that her comments made regarding her trips to Bosnia in the 90s, where she claimed to have landed under sniper fire, were caused by exhaustion and that she misspoke. I prefer the term lied. Why cannot people just admit they when they lie, no matter the reason why they did it? Whether it was to make a story more exciting, to make themselves look better, to bolster their image, to hide an embarrassing fact about themselves or just to make themselves seem more important in their own minds, why cannot they just admit they lied? When you get caught in the web of your own deceit, just say ok, I lied. Not that you misspoke or misremembered, just admit you lied. You look dumber in the long run for making up some lame excuse than you do for coming clean and being honest and admitting to others what they already know.

I read recently that the former Real World and Road Rules cast mates that become contestants on the Gauntlet (MTV’s current keystone show, once again having nothing to do with actual music) receive a mere $5000 to appear on MTV’s biggest hit and cash cow. I never knew shame and dignity could be purchased for so little.

Ever find yourself in a blah mood? Next time you’re caught in traffic, just look around for that one driver completely oblivious to anyone else, singing and grooving in their car unselfconsciously. It will put a smile on your face every time watching someone enjoying life unfettered.

Is Everything Fixed?

2008-05-16T15:41:00.001-04:00

Did anyone see this article? Did we solve all the world’s problems and are now moving on to little things and no one told me?

Either this is a sign our world is now perfect or someone has too much time on their hands and feels like using their position to push forth their own agenda instead of what is good for everyone.

Mind you, I happen to agree with the politician in this story. I think those things are moronic, stupid, tasteless and ugly. But if you wish to put them on your vehicle, it’s still a personal choice. I like it when idiots advertise. It helps me know where they’re at so I can avoid them.

And since when did it become the job of government to legislate personal choice and become an arbiter of good taste? Pay no attention to legislation regarding smoking, abortion, same sex marriage or gun control when it comes to asking when the government took the job of legislating personal choice.

All this really shows is another example of legislators doing stupid things to waste time and tax payer money. It’s emblematic of overall government waste. Seriously, we really need to demand accountability from our politicians. We gave them the job, we can take it away. Our own constitution states that if government is no longer working, we should tear it down and start again. I doubt that would work at this point, at least in a peaceful and orderly manner. It would cause too much chaos and potential world catastrophe.

But I wonder, why do we not care more? I think of this question when looking at our current crop of presidential candidates. We should be asking those seeking our nation’s highest office the tough questions, such as…

… Why have none of you been doing the job you have been elected to do seriously for over a year and instead have been spending your time glad handing to get picked for another job. Why should we take you seriously when you do not take your own responsibilities seriously?

What are you going to do to solve real problems? And we want serious answers, not generalizations, pretty prose and rhetoric?

Half the world hates us, the other half pretends they don’t’ know us. What about that?

What about poverty in this country?

What about the wrong people being taxed to death while big corporations can get away with setting up shell companies to skirt taxation?

What about the ridiculous cost of homes, which no one can afford?

And on that note, what about the foolishness of people and financial institutions who have screwed the home market, and the economy, and now the rest of us, who have no homes or ability to purchase them, have to pay? I know you cannot legislate common sense, but how do you handle this?

Why did it take 10 years to raise minimum wage, and even then it was minor and on a step up program that by the time it really makes a difference, the cost of living will have risen above current standards to the point where it will make the rate hike moot?

What about the homeless?

What about violence in our streets and neighborhoods?

What about the rapidly sinking economy and the tanking value of the dollar worldwide?

What about the skyrocketing cost of fuel with no end in sight?

Why is there continued feet dragging on alternative fuels and power alternatives. Where are the fuel cells and hydrogen power solutions we keep hearing? Why do you allow Detroit to run roughshod over you instead of enacting real legislation regarding miles per gallon standards?

I do not expect every politician to have a sound answer to every problem. That’s impossible. But I would like to hear sound plans toward real answers. I would like to hear reasonable, logical thought toward realistic suggestions and solutions that we can do, as a government and as a populace.

People are tired and apathetic of the same old thing. They know if they take time to ask, they’ll be put to sleep by the droning and hot air spewed by those in charge. We want real solutions and suggestions, not rhetoric, not double speak, and do not tell us what you think we want to hear. Be honest and direct. People want real change, something with meat and heft to it. Not more nonsense.

I have come to a conclusion that the election process starts so early not because it’s a race between multiple candidates, but a war of attrition between candidates and the constituents. By the time the election rolls around, people pick anyone just to make it all go away.

But we cannot afford to take that kind of attitude anymore. We need to do more ourselves. We cannot wait around for someone on a white horse to ride up and save the day. We have to do it, much like those who came before us.

The greatest generation is called that because they did not question, or whine, or martyr themselves for ridiculous reasons. They just did what needed to be done, simple as that. The country, and the world, needed their help, and they responded. Many suffered, many for years afterwards, but none doubted what they did was the right thing. You never heard them complain about it, because work needed to done, so they did it and moved on.

Why cannot we, as a society, be like that now? Why cannot we be one as a cause?

We need to find that spirit to fix the problems of our world and our society. And the best way to start is to begin with the problems at home. And by home I do not mean our country as a whole, no, I mean just in our own homes, streets, communities, neighborhoods, towns and cities. No one needs to lift mountains, merely mole hills.

Start small, make small changes around us. Little things like picking up trash, visiting a shut in, giving of time or money to a cause, making a walk, do something. Little things like these will add up to big things. An avalanche starts with one snowflake.

The only thing we have to do in this life is dying. Everything before that is our own choice. If we choose to sit, complain, rot and allow others to take advantage of us or rule our life, then that is our choice. But we should strive for something more. Not for money or fame or personal glory, things which mean little and disappear as fast as they are granted. But we should strive for the greater good in our communities and our world. To make things better for those who come after us, and to honor those who did the same before us. We need to step up, be counted, and say I want a better world, and then pick up a shovel and get to work.

I know it’s tough to do. Most of us spend our time trying to keep our heads above water and out of the poorhouse. And trying to find time or energy to make a positive impact seems almost Herculean. But the only way things will get better is if we all make an effort, no matter how small. Otherwise, all anyone will remember of us is reality television and empty energy drink cans.

Life Changes

2008-04-25T17:47:00.000-04:00

I started down a path over the past year toward some major changes in my life. In the next few months, everything I have known up until now will change in some way. My marital status, where I live, what part of the country I reside, my heath and fitness, even my job and possibly, if I am lucky, my career. As I have started each individual journey on this quest, I have been amazed at how many different aspects and details there are to each. By themselves they are a mountain to climb, full of potential pitfalls and hidden ravines but also containing beautiful plateaus staring out at breathtaking vistas. Combined, they form a mountain range of adventures that will all culminate in a short time frame one after the other.

As I travel on this road, I have found it interesting how many different things are involved and how many people are affected in different ways. Some people will become bigger parts of my life, some smaller while others are starting to come back into my life. Now, I am not a famous person, nor one who wields substantial influence over people, trends or society. I am not a mover or a shaker, but I have always thought of myself as rather rich in my relationships with friends and family. As this path has unfolded, how many people are affected, even in small ways, by the decisions I have made for my life still boggles the mind. All told, by a rough count, probably over a hundred or more people will feel the affects of the decisions I have made. Perhaps I am undercounting, but it seems about right. It made me feel good to know how much I mean to others, and reminded me how much they mean to me.

But in thinking about these things, my situation also made me think of a far more public figure who also decided to shake things up in his life in the last year. The man to whom I refer is Dale Earnhardt Jr., who decided last year to make a move to leave the team his father built and race for a new team and explore new opportunities in his life. I found a commonality between Junior and myself and our vastly different situations. Like me he chose to make changes in his life to find something better, even though the change would be difficult and it required giving up some things he held near and dear to him. But the ramifications of this man’s decision and how it affected so many people is stunning.

The people at DEI – By Junior leaving, everyone that works at DEI has been affected. By losing their biggest draw, and namesake, they move from a top tier team to a second tier team. They no longer have the same cache in the garage nor do they have a draw of fans. Losing their sole star effects their psyche and livelihood.

The people at Hendricks – those that work for Hendricks Motorsports have suddenly watched their already star laden team propelled into another stratosphere. By adding Junior to their stable of drivers, their top tier team is now considered an all star team and the one to beat each and every week. Adding this star bolsters their already high esteem and adds to their livelihood.

The sponsors for Hendricks – they get a boost from having Junior in the Hendricks fold. It changes how they advertise; promote their products and how they sponsor their motorsport cars. Something tells me each company that has a stake in Hendricks has increased their promotions, marketing and sales teams thanks to the addition of one driver, in whom they have no specific stake.

The people at Budweiser – this change affects not only their advertising department, but every aspect of their motorsports sponsorship and others that work for the company. By losing Junior, they no longer have that one superstar in their fold, and one upon which much advertising centers. While Budweiser is an industry leader, such a loss will invariably affect the bottom line.

The people at AMP Energy – those who create and push this line of energy drinks now find themselves at the center of a whirlwind called Dale Jr. Undoubtedly having such a famous man as the face of their product every Sunday has increased their business, earnings, workload, production, output and employment. I’d be willing to bet a few people have new jobs thanks to this windfall caused by Junior being on board.

The US government, the National Guard and the Armed Forces – No doubt they’ve seen a spike in interest with Junior racing for the National Guard. Whether this translates into new recruits, or merely just added support, has yet to be shown. But with such a marquee name speeding around the track each week with their name on his car, you better believe their reaping some sort of reward.

The people at Gibbs racing – while only being affected in minor ways, these men and women find themselves surfing the waves created by Junior’s wake. Although the flirtation with acquiring Junior was minor and short, the affects are long term as a former Hendricks driver is now in their fold thanks to the changes in their biggest rival. Plus the press they received in their brief courting of the superstar most likely left long term ripples.

The people at RCR – the thought of Junior racing for his father’s old team, and perhaps racing with his old number, created quite the buzz around the NASCAR garage. While this dream scenario never came to pass, it did impact everyone in the company, if only for a short time.

The people in NASCAR – watching their marquee star suddenly switch teams and allegiances has changed the way everyone within the league’s offices go about their business of running, promoting and selling the sport.

The fans – everyone that follows the sport has been affected by this change. Those most affected were the fans that love Junior and hate Gordon and or Johnson. They have had to change their whole fan belief system in order to continue supporting their favorite driver.

It is not an understatement to say that the decisions of one man have affected possibly millions of people in some way. And his decisions are not ones that have life or death ramifications, like the decisions made by leaders of nations or armies. Watching how one man can affect so many in an effort to find something better for his life is awe inspiring and intimidating and yet at the same time completely relatable. I feel the changes and decisions I’ve made for my life are just as important, and in many ways parallel those of this very famous man.

In trying to find a better path for his life, and the type of success he has been looking for, Junior gave up one of the last few connections to his late father, to whom he was very close. He also gave up daily associations with many friends, personal involvement in the business that bears his name and the only home in the racing world he has ever known. For anyone, these things might be too great a price to pay just to find what one might be searching for.

But what he has found is a new home that has welcomed him with open arms. He found an owner, who like him understands the pain of losing someone close to him. He has found a path toward the kind of professional success he has longed to acquire. And for the first time in a long time, perhaps since his father’s untimely death, he has found some peace, security, contentment and happiness.

While my decisions are not as large, nor do they affect even a fraction of the people as his did, but they are just as life changing. I too am making changes to find professional and personal success. I too am looking for some security and contentment. While he found someone who can relate to the loss of a close family member, I’m looking to become closer to immediate family by being able to spend more time with them. And I too will be giving up friends and a life I have built over 9 years in order to find something to give me satisfaction and help build a better life for myself and my soon to be wife.

The future at this point of my life stands before me wide open much like a long stretch of highway on an uphill grade. The road is laid out before me, I know the twists and turns ahead and I have an idea of what to expect. I know there will be some potholes and rough patches. What I do not know, thanks to that uphill grade, is what awaits me once I crest that hill. A multitude of potential adventures, experiences and wonders, both good and bad, lie in wait. The only thing missing from triggering all of them is me. And soon, whether I’m ready or not, I’ll be upon them full of pep and vinegar and eager to dive into every one of them.

While I plan, scheme, anticipate and day dream of what waits before me, the only way I’ll ever know what will happen is to keep pushing forward into the big scary unknown. I know I can do it, though. The thought of the potentially great things on that horizon are too much of a draw to stop now. My only hope when I do hit that summit is that I too, much like Junior, will be able to find some of the things I have been longing to find. And hopefully a few wonderful surprises I never expected as well. And I hope that the things I find will be enough to overcome those that I have sacrificed. I hope.

A Happy Ending

2008-04-18T18:25:00.001-04:00

One of the most difficult things to deal with in our world is to watch someone you love in pain. Unfortunately, we all deal with this at some point. Be it emotional, spiritual or physical pain, at some point in our lives, we all experience this for ourselves, and experience myriad of emotions that come with watching someone we love in pain, no matter the type. In the not too distant pass, I faced this latter dilemma.

The day started like any ordinary day, filled with the drudgery of traffic and the tedium of work. It was a Tuesday, not unlike any other Tuesday. In the early afternoon, I received a call from K, who was feeling really bad and in great pain. As anyone who plays amateur diagnostician, I inquired to what she had for lunch, thinking it might have played a part. Just a salad, nothing overtly suspicious. Still I thought it might pass, and told her to rest for a bit and if she felt bad in a while, to call if she needed me to pick her up. 10 minutes passed and she called again, telling me she was headed home. I wonder now why even then I did not think too much of it. Perhaps denial; if nothing is wrong in your mind then it really must be ok. Plus, it really could be nothing more than some digestion issues. And at the moment, I do what we all do from time to time, I was too wrapped up in work to really give it more than a few seconds of thought, and figured when she got home, she’d rest and be ok by the time I got home. That was not to be, as she called after arriving home saying she needed to go to the emergency room. Now, finally, my brain and concern mechanisms woke up. I dropped everything and raced home, wondering and worried.

When I pulled up to our building, she was waiting outside, in obvious agony. I loaded her into my truck and off we raced for the nearest medical center. As we pulled out, she intimated that she spent the time waiting for me on the kitchen floor. Now, I don’t know about anyone else, but when someone tells me they were incapable of moving from the floor, it tells me either they partied too hard the night before, or something is seriously wrong. Obviously, the latter was in play here. With as much skill as I could muster from close to twenty years of driving, I sped us off in hopes of, I’m not sure. Perhaps I figured the faster I went our time of arrival would rise exponentially. All I needed was a siren, and it it’s a shame I did not have one. I really would have liked to get there faster.

Sure, my haste was magnified by my concern, but also by my chagrin. I worried that any further delay could be costly, and already my mind was scolding me for not adequately acknowledging the gravity of the situation. But the time for personal admonishments would be plenty in the future; now the only concerns were to get her to medical professionals and try to keep her calm until then. As I am practiced in doing, immediately I switched into crisis mode. While steering with one hand, and keeping two eyes on the road and speedometer, I kept my other hand and other eye on her, trying to comfort and assure her things would be fine while making a few wisecracks to keep things light and help alleviate her, and my, concerns. My mind, however, was betraying that calm exterior.

So there we were, speeding toward the hospital, both full of fear and uncertainty, and her filled with pain. Those first moments of an emergency might be the worst, when you are so unsure and scared of what may happen. Your mind swirls with possibilities and worst case scenarios, which never does anyone any good. But in dark, frightening moments like that, filled with the unknown, you cannot help yourself.

Mercifully, we arrived at the emergency room unscathed and unmolested. Almost immediately they admitted her. It happened almost before I knew it. I took a moment to step outside and make a few phone calls, something I would find myself doing often, and returned to find her admitted. The staff led me back to where she was taken, and already she was being hooked up, prodded and medically investigated. This always takes a toll as well, but in a strange way. On one hand, you’re glad to see the person you love in capable hands who begin their work to making them well again, but at the same time it crushes you to see them in such a weak and vulnerable position. Hooked up to various machines, prone and in pain they almost do not resemble the vivacious and healthy person you know.

But for once, a positive attitude overcame me, as I was happier to see her getting the medical attention she needed. They administered something for the pain, and began a battery of tests and a litany of questions to help determine the cause of her pain. Occasionally, I would slip out to make or return calls. Some to work, both hers and mine, some to friends, and of course some to family. Especially family and especially hers. She wanted to make sure they were kept abreast of the situation, and I made sure they were. After all, it was the least I could do, literally. Short of watching ER, my knowledge and skill in an actual emergency room is, well, nil.

But we waited through the battery of tests and exams, and finally the staff identified the culprit. Her appendix had rebelled, and appendicitis was causing the pain. She was not in any danger of it bursting, but surgery would be required to remove the offending organ. While that is serious, at least it’s something easily treatable, for the most part, and now we need not fear the unknown. We know the problem, now we just need to let the professionals solve it.

As they prepared to move K to a room, I retreated for another rounds of telephone calls. To work, as neither of us would be in tomorrow, her for a few days at least. In moments like that it’s good to have jobs and employers who are understanding and caring during crisis times. Not really employers at this point, definitely friends.

And I made calls to a few friends as I did not feel the need or have the energy to play town crier. I know the word would spread, and to that I was glad that others would be thinking positive thoughts for her. It makes one feel loved to have those friends during moments like this that hold you up, give you love and support and say, we’ll be here if you need us.

Everyone expressed their concern and showed their support. It made me feel good to know so many people would be pulling for her. I felt the worst for her mom, a registered nurse, because she is so far away. Now that must have been a very impotent feeling. Knowing you have the knowledge and care to do some good, but are so far away you cannot even comfort your own daughter when she’s in pain. My heart went out to them the most.

They admitted K for an overnight stay with surgery planned for the next morning. As it was late evening by the time the final diagnosis came in, obviously it was too late to cut this evening. I stayed with her while they admitted her, and stayed longer, well into the night, until I was sure she was comfortable. The surgeon would be by in the morning to discuss the procedure, now all there was to do but wait for that moment to arrive.

I stayed far longer than I should have, though. It was too easy to stay, though, as they had placed her in a private room. It was not spacious, but it was just her in there, and me on a rolling chair that actually reclined. I did not want to leave. I figured it would be better to stay. While I may not know how to perform surgery, I could at least lend support. Good thing, as she did need it. The floor doctor came by on rounds to see the new patient. He had her chart, but began asking a grocery list of questions, all of which K answered already downstairs, and which was noted in her chart. He then asked if she was in for her gall bladder. Looking at him as though he was a moron, K calmly replied that no, she was there for an appendectomy. You would think after all those years of medical training; a doctor would be smart enough to read the chart. While that scene made neither of us comfortable, she had received great care up until then, and hoped that the surgeon tomorrow would have a slight bit more common sense.

I would have stayed all night, but unfortunately the pets needed attention. I could not tune out the entire world, as much as I tried. Regrettably, I said my good nights to her and trundled home. It was strange driving home. Just a few hours before, I was flying along the same roads, but with her beside me. Now I rolled along solo. That night I barely slept the few hours I was home. I found myself too anxious about everything that had just happened and too worried about her. My brain was still processing the dramatic turn of events that the day suddenly took. And I could not get my mind off of K. I was so worried for her. I wondered how she felt at that moment, lying in that room all alone with nothing but her fears and trepidation of what was to come the next day to keep her company. But knowing tomorrow would be long, and that she would need me as much as possible, I did my best to quiet my mind and grab some rest.

After a fitful sleep, I roused myself early to shower, do my pet owner duty and head to the hospital as soon as I could. I called one of K’s bosses to let her know the situation. I had been unable to reach her the day before. I called her from K’s phone, as she had the number programmed. When her boss answered, she thought it was K. When I started speaking, she became less jovial and more serious. I found the whole exchange funny, as I knew I caught her completely off guard. It felt good to find something amusing. I apprised her of the situation, as she had not known what was going on. Like everyone when this process began, she was very supportive and let me know that if we needed anything, just call. It made me feel better knowing that.

I showed up at her room bright and early, as I promised. She looked good, well as good as you can look needing surgery and spending the night in an uncomfortable hospital bed. The night in the hospital had dissipated her fear and anxiety and replaced them with impatience. She had steeled herself to what was to come and what needed to happen, and now she wanted to get the show on the road. Not that I could blame her. Sitting there in a lonely room all night surrounded by sick people would definitely make one want to get their procedure done as fast as possible so you could get home.

This part is difficult, the dreaded anticipation of the event. You want answers immediately, but things do not work that way. You want constant attention and information, but it does not always occur. The doctors have other patients as well that need attention. Patience has never been a virtue of mine and especially in a situation where someone I love is hurt. At that point I wanted things to happen immediately. Wanted the surgeon to come by, explain what would happen and then wave a magic wand to wrap everything up. Unfortunately, just because I lack patience does not mean I get my way. So we sat, talked and flipped through the television channels as time ticked away and early morning gave way to mid morning.

I spent a few moments here and there slipping outside to call friends and loved ones to update them on the situation. People really cared and wanted to help, even if just to lend support, an ear or a shoulder. During these getaways, I walked around the facility to kill time and distract myself. I had those predictable moments of fear, but I did not want to show those in front of K. She needs a rock, not a sponge.

As I returned from one such jaunt, this one to fetch a drink, I found friends had shown up to lend support. Two guys whom with I work came from the office to find out how the patient was doing, and the patient’s fiancé as well. I was glad they showed up, more than I realized I would be. Their presence would help distract me from myself throughout the day. Not knowing what would happen I had declined the many requests of people to stop by. Per the schedule the admitting doctor told us yesterday, if things went as planned, she would be able to leave that night. So I did not want people to rearrange their lives to visit only to get there and find out we were already home. Not that I did not appreciate their thoughtfulness and concern, but I suppose I did not want to trouble them. I admit it, I’m strange. But these unexpected arrivals did help me and did bring some cheer to K.

Their arrival also must have jarred something loose, because right as they got there, things began moving and fast. The surgeon, Dr. Castillo, arrived to talk with K and I, discuss the procedure and answer any questions we had. He informed us the procedure was fairly routine, he has performed it many times; I believe his exact words were thousands of times, and that the whole thing would be a laparoscopic operation. Just three tiny incisions and that’s it, no big long scar. I’ve said it before and I’ll say it again, technology is amazing. He was unsure exactly the time frame of when it would take place, but he did let us know it would be soon. Once the good doctor left, we started to settle in again thinking we would be waiting. But much to our surprise, personnel arrived shortly afterward to whisk her away to the surgery suites.

Even knowing it would happen, I still found myself unprepared for the moment. It’s so hard to see them taking her away. The weight of everything and the emotion of the events had come to the forefront, and I struggled to remain positive and supportive in our last moments before things happened. We walked; she rode on the gurney, and talked as I gave her every ounce of support and reassurance I could muster. We passed through the doors into the surgical wing and then we came to the point where I could go no further. We said I love yous and then they led her away to surgery, while I retired to the waiting room.

My friends wished to take me to lunch, but I declined. I did not want to be any further away than I had to be. There is nothing I could do at this point, but the feeling of needing to be there was important to me. I wanted to make sure I was there when the surgeon came out afterward to let me know how things went. I feared if I strayed far for any reason, I would miss this all important conversation. With twisted emotions and weighted shoulders, I made my home in the waiting room.

I’ve spent too much time in these waiting rooms. Not as much as some people. I suppose if you have done a survey my time in them is probably far below the average. But even taking that into account, it still feels like I’ve spent far too much time in hospital waiting rooms. Of course, I did get a big chunk of that time, and experience in them, thanks to Chuck. So perhaps that super concentrated time period has exhausted me on the experience. As usual, I made a few jokes to improve the mood and keep things light, knowing full well my mind and everyone else’s is on the elephant in the room.

When you spend time in waiting rooms, be them for surgery, regular hospital admissions, intensive care or any other area, you find no one wants to talk about why they are there. You find people will be personable and friendly, and they will initially tell you their reasons for being there, but it never becomes the focus of a conversation. I figure it’s because speaking of it just brings things into a harsh reality, one difficult to deal with.

Sitting in the waiting room is much like a mental and emotional marathon. All one can think of is what would happen if things go wrong. No matter how simple the procedure things can always go wrong. Your mind, with nothing better to do, always wanders to these possibilities. What would you do if the worst happened? How could you go on? What would it mean to live life without that person? Always seems crazy to think of such things at times like that, especially when you really need to be thinking the most positive thoughts you can. But an unoccupied mind often leads to trouble.

You operate on high adrenaline during these times. You never think of proper food or rest. Your body reacts because your mind wills it. You need to be there for that person. You need to do whatever you can to make things better.

The worst is that you feel so impotent not being able to do anything to help. Sure, every little thing does help. Being there to comfort, distract the person from focusing on the bad, making them smile, feel comfortable, loved, cared for. To help stave off fear and worry, help them rest to be prepared for what they need to go through. But you always want to do more. I’m not sure if it would be better or worse for a doctor, surgeon, nurse or another medical professional. Knowing what would happen, being able to diagnose the problem, possibly helping could help stave off those feelings, but would it make it better or worse. I do not know. I know how it feels to not be able to help more. Impotent, empty, lonely and helpless.

I did attempt to distract myself with television, or leafing through a magazine. All I really did though was watch the clock. We were told the procedure takes about an hour. So I figured an hour from when she left. My mind neglected to calculate prep time, so as that hour came and went, I began to feel anxious and nervous. Those unfounded fears that something went terribly wrong began to find purchase in my mind. I fidgeted as the minutes kept piling up. As the time hit an hour and 15 minutes, I talked myself into going and asking the nurse in charge if she had an update. It did not take much to talk myself into that course of action.

I waited, as patiently as I could, as she spoke with another person. When their conversation ended, and he moved on, I saddled up to the counter and waited, as patiently as I could, for her to finish her task and be able to speak with me. When she did ask if she could help me, her tone was laced with annoyance and impatience. Here is the one moment in my life where I showed the greatest restraint ever. Because the last thing I wanted at that moment was some attitude. It took every ounce of will power not to vault over that desk and smack the bejezus out of her. Here’s a tip, if you work in such an area, do not speak to those waiting with impatience. Their nerves and emotions are already frayed. That just might push them over the edge.

Despite that, she did let me know that K was out of surgery and in recovery. I asked if the doctor was coming out, and she said no, he had moved on to another procedure. I thanked her, and then turned around almost directly into Dr. Castillo. He told me everything I wanted to hear. K did fabulous, the procedure went off without a hitch, and the offending appendix has been removed and that once she is done in recovery they will move her back to her room. I thanked him, probably too much, and finally breathed.

Once you hear from the doctor, everything changes. Knowing that person you love has made it through and will be fine is like a cleansing rain. Relief and joy wash over you, pushing away every dark thought you had. The weight of the world lifts from your shoulders, a weight that before that moment you never knew existed. In that moment, every emotion you have felt since the ordeal began bursts forth in a torrent. All the pain, fear, worry, concern, emptiness, loneliness and helplessness overtake you. After speaking with the surgeon, and giving the thumbs up to my friends, I walked outside to be alone for a moment. I barely made it through the door before I almost collapsed so overcome I was.

You work so hard to wall everything off, keep it inside so not to spread negative emotions to those going through their ordeal. Once you see the light at the end of the tunnel, once you know things will be ok, that wall crumbles as though it never existed, and those dark emotions pour forth unrestrained. You never realize how much is back there either until that wall comes down. The adrenaline that keeps you moving despite sustenance and rest, pushes you through the fear, gives you the energy to deal with the immense weight of every emotion that course through your mind and soul and keeps you buoyant also shields and disguises how deep the pools of negative emotions really are.

Time seemed to drag as we awaited her arrival from recovery. But once she showed up, I felt great relief at finally seeing her, but this moment also breaks your heart. She was still groggy and drugged up from the surgery, not really herself quite yet. This brings a new form of pain, when you see the one you love still suffering from the effects of what has happened.

As she came out of it more, she started feeling better. She was able to eat and the pain became manageable. When the real signs of her recovery showed, my body betrayed me. Once calm and without adrenaline, the exhaustion of everything overtook me. One of our friends stayed and buoyed us and regaled us tales and stories that made us smile and laugh. Once he bid his adieu, I finally succumbed to the exhaustion and napped in the chair next to her until surgeon came by to check her progress. He also let us know that she would experience some discomfort over the next few days, as the carbon dioxide they pumped into her abdomen to create room to perform the surgery worked its way out of her body. Not long after, the head nurse, a great woman and a barrel of fun came by to start the process of discharging K and finally sending her home.

Adrenaline kicked back in at this point and pushed me to prepare everything for her arrival home. As it would still be hours before she could leave, I left to go home and walk and feed the dog, pick up meds and shove some food down my throat before I raced back to collect her. After that frantic intermission, I arrived back still exhausted and drained, but so elated she was well and ready to come home. As a matter of fact, when I did get back, she was only waiting for some paperwork before she could leave. I found that two friends from her work had arrived to visit and find out about our patient. I basically became background as they chatted. I found myself a bit too tired to keep up, and it did make me happy to see them there and to know how much they care about K. Once the paperwork came, the staff whisked her to the front of the hospital, where we gingerly put her in my truck and I drove her home. This drive was much different from our frantic drive there. Much calmer, slower and gentler, and much happier.

The next day found her trying to recover, working through the carbon dioxide exiting and the soreness from the surgery and gas. I just switched to autopilot, as I found myself completely drained emotionally. I felt the overwhelming need to make everything perfect and cover every need she may have. I did whatever I could to make the house livable. I was glad to do it all. It gave me something to focus on other than the fear of what could have happened.

Some friends stopped by to visit in the evening. It was nice to have their company. Many more had called and emailed over the two days, showing their concern and love during a rough time. Moments like this make one feel how lucky they are to have people in their lives that care so deeply. Times of crisis tend to show the true nature of people and bring out their best. It makes me feel privileged and lucky.

After a few days, we had both recovered from the events of those two days. Some rest and watching her recover bolstered me emotionally, and some rest and healing bolstered her emotionally and physically. We never had such a crisis since we’ve been together. I felt good that we could get through it together. But I do not want to do it again.

I need to thank the hospital staff, the emergency room staff for seeing so quickly, Dr Castillo who performed an excellent surgery and everyone who called, emailed, visited and shared their love and offers of help. Neither of us, especially me, could have made it through without knowing those people were there to lean on when I got too weak to stand.

She went back to work the next week, and found herself back into normal life in no time. Her follow up exam with Dr. Castillo went wonderfully, and within two weeks, she was back to normal. It’s funny how such a crisis can become the focus of your life for a small period of time, and then just as suddenly go away. I marveled at this about two weeks afterward, when everything was back to normal. It felt as though the whole thing never happened and was merely a bad dream.

Each day you never know what to expect. She left that morning feeling fine, and was in the hospital by nightfall. Life throws you for a loop, and there is nothing you can do about it. You cannot plan it; you must merely react to the situation presented before you. Humans are resilient and tend to find a way to make it through the hardest of times. This ability makes the best of times that much sweeter. No one wants to go through such things, but we cannot live in fear of such times. You never know what each day will bring, some days its feast, some days its famine, but each day must be met head on. I for one am just glad that this story has a happy ending.

Happy birthday my dear, I love you.

Why?

2008-03-28T19:04:00.001-04:00

Why do we glorify celebrity?

Why do we find ourselves more interested in the trite lives led by those obtain it than finding happiness and meaning in our own?

Why do we take more interest in finding a home for stray animals than stray human beings?

Why do we find ourselves so concerned about the humane treatment of murders and not the victims and their families?

Why do we hate others merely because they have a different viewpoint or opinion instead of engaging them in conversation and perhaps learning something?

Why do we hold opinions in the same light as facts?

Why are achievements and breakthroughs made more to get rich and sell product instead of the betterment of humankind?

Why is the point of innovation to make actual money?

Why are there less cures and more drugs?

Why do we treat the symptoms and not the cause?

Why is there more money in being sick than keeping healthy?

Why do we rush to judgment?

Why are simple answers rarely the correct ones?

Why am I asking a ton of questions and providing no solutions?

Why do we crave easy answers and quick fixes when they never work or make us happy?

Why do we try to appear, and be, something we are not?

Why do we make every issue black and white, when everything comes in shades of gray?

Why are we fine with this?

Why do we celebrate stupidity and deride intelligence?

Why are there always more questions than answers?

All Our Fault

2008-03-14T14:26:00.000-04:00

It seems a presidential election year, which now starts about two years before the actual election, brings out the worst in everyone. I am no exception. Listening to these talking heads babble about how wrong the current government is, even though they are part of it, and how they’ll wave their magic wand and make everything right if only you will back them with your vote makes me want to hide in a cave with my eyes closed and fingers in my ears. I’m sick of the same old politics. Nothing changes, just merely the subject matter on which they use to skewer each other and the players in the forefront.

At the moment, the Democrats are busy blaming the Republicans for the war and the deaths of thousands of Americans. Never mind the fact they voted to go to war, with the exception of Obama who loves to remind us of this.

Republicans blame the Democrats for being with terrorism because they do not blindly follow the administration. Never mind the fact that the administration ignores salient input and advice from military leaders as how to best go forth in combating terrorism.

Both parties are so focused on terrorism overseas, they completely ignore the terrorism on our own streets by gangs, killers, rapists and thieves.

Democrats are still blaming Republicans for the Katrina disaster, and the terrible response the government had in getting aid to the regions struck the hardest. But never mind the fact that they held control of Congress, and were just as guilty for dragging their feet and delaying desperately needed help.

Republicans blame Democrats for blocking measures to close our borders, stating they are too concerned about the illegal immigrants already in this country and not about the Americans they represent. Never mind that both parties are dragging their feet because they know those same illegal immigrants provide a ton of cheap labor all over the country, both in pay and benefit costs. And if companies that use those laborers had to pay a decent wage, prices would skyrocket immediately and our little slow down in the economy would really quickly head toward a depression. Also never mind that if they did close the borders and kick out illegal immigrants, many of those same lawmakers, from both sides, would suddenly find themselves without their nannies, gardeners and housekeepers.

Democrats blame Republicans for the witch hunt of Hillary Clinton, occasionally trotting out dangerous accusations of sexism. Never mind the thought that perhaps her troubles stem not from the fact that she is a woman, but perhaps people just do not like her, do not like her husband, or even, perish the thought, see her for what she really is, nothing more than a power hungry individual bent on personal gain and glory under the disguise of public service. You know a politician.

They both blame each other for the mess that is our economy. Never mind the fact that both allowed the corporate sector to send jobs overseas to make more money, weakening the dollar. Nor mind the fact that both have approved record amounts of deficit spending over the past eight years, further weakening the dollar and economy. Nor mind the fact that neither does anything of any substance to bring down gas prices (like mandated miles per gallon standards, a push for fuel cells or looking for alternatives to our petroleum fix) thus causing prices to skyrocket, giving the average Joe less money in his pocket for leisure, which hurts everyone.

Back and forth they go, like a perverse tennis match, but with much more vitriol and stupidity. They blame each other for our skyrocketing national debt, the deflated dollar, high unemployment, low voter turnout, the current quagmire in the war effort, low public support for such actions, and probably teen acne too.

The carousel of nonsense never seems to stop. The players just occasionally change horses, depending on their mood, need or whichever one will look like the shiny white horse to voters and lobbyists with big checkbooks.

Well, horse is the right word, since its all horse manure.

Come on everybody, wake up and smell the $4 Starbucks. They want you to believe they are different, but they are not. They’re merely two sides to the same coin. They’re both to blame for the mess we are as a country. All of them. Both parties.

They spend time being too interested in lining their pockets, and those of their cronies, with kickbacks and sweetheart deals. You honestly think Republicans are the only ones with their fingers in the oil drum? Or that only Republicans make money off of deals like Halliburton? Or that only Democrats profit from connections with the entertainment industry? If you do, I have an interesting bridge I would like to sell you; it’s located in the city of Brooklyn New York.

We have no power in the dollar because we no longer make anything the world wants other than cheap entertainment. We buy most everything from somewhere else. And how did that happen? It happened because big business found it cheaper to make everything elsewhere in the world. No restrictions, cheap labor without having to pay for benefits or retirement or time off, cheaper materials, the list is endless, as are the people happy to send the work away. So they made sure their buddies on the Hill made it easier to take jobs overseas. Those same cats then began taxing the hell out of everything made here, thus making it financially sensible to take jobs away. Sounds like a bi-partisan switch to me.

Remember, to pass anything in the House or Senate, it always takes a majority vote to push through any legislation. Guess what? A majority means BOTH parties must contribute. Since right now we have a Republican administration with a Democrat led Congress, this means that both parties are contributing equally to the current situations and problems our country faces.

So never doubt, all of them are to blame for the mess we are in, because their too busy making sure they have more than enough, as do their backslapping buddies, while bickering through partisan politics like schoolchildren arguing over a cupcake. And do you think they give a crap about Joe and Jane American while sitting down to dinner? I want to believe there are a few left who actually do give a damn, but the evidence to support that thought is scant. I rarely see anything politicians do that really shows they have true concern and the best interests of their constituents at heart or at the forefront of their agendas. Even when they do pass something intended to help or make life better, there is always another reason behind it, usually one that benefits those of their ilk.

Ever wonder why they always vote for their pay raises late at night? Ever wonder why they keep voting down a raise in minimum wage?

The amazing thing is this behavior is not hard to see; do not need a smoking gun or paper trail to see how things work. They do it right in front of us; they’re blatantly obvious about how they work they system for their benefit, not ours. As an example, take the current situation with the primary voting in Michigan and Florida. Because Michigan and Florida held their primaries before Super Tuesday, the Democratic super delegates deemed their votes meaningless and stated they would be denied seats at the Democratic convention. Clinton’s campaign manager Maggie Williams was one of super delegates to nullify Michigan and Florida’s primary votes, agreeing with the party line that those states did not follow the rules and this was their punishment. Not that the Clinton campaign followed the rules, they still campaigned in those states and left Clinton’s name on the ballots unlike her competitors. However, her toned changed once her candidate started losing, then suddenly she welcomed them with open arms. She even went so far as to say in an open letter to the Obama campaign, “…nearly 2.5 million Americans made their voices heard and participated in primary elections. We think the results of those primaries were fair and should be honored.” Do you really think she cares about making sure the voice of the people is heard? Of course not; she’s concerned about her candidate whom if elected will most likely grant her a sweet position on her staff or in her cabinet. See what I mean? Their true concern lies merely with what benefits them, not the average American.

And all of them should be ashamed. When the presidential election machine began to hum in 2007, I looked at the candidates and thought this is the best we have to offer? We proclaim to be the greatest nation on Earth and this is whom we have to chose from to lead us? We cannot do any better than this? They should be ashamed for creating a political atmosphere that drives out the best, brightest and most qualified to lead, because any upstanding, rational person would refuse to run the gauntlet of character assassination, public mudslinging and backroom shenanigans required to win an election. If someone felt the need to serve the public, and possibly have an idea or two that could fix our rudder, mend our sails and steer us clear of the rocks, they never would. It would not be worth it because these jokers somewhere down the line turned the political process from a let the best person win competition to let the slimiest, dirtiest and most cunning rise to the top with the least mud on them.

But you know who should be the most ashamed? Do you know who is to blame the most for this political climate and behavior? The rest of us, that is who truly is to blame and who should be the most ashamed. We should be ashamed for letting this happen. We should be ashamed for not demanding accountability. We should be ashamed for not raising our voices when our elected leaders, put there to do a job by us, do something against our wishes. We should be ashamed for not calling them on the carpet for bad job performance, or passing laws or allowing things to happen that benefit a select few instead of the majority. We put them in office, they work for us and we have been a terribly absent boss.

We should be ashamed for not caring, taking an interest, getting involved, making a difference and demanding real change, and not pretty platitudes. We should be ashamed for re-electing the worst offenders and poor performers. If you ran a company and had an employee that skimmed money, screwed off, blamed others for their failures and destroyed productivity and public perception, would you fire that employee or give them a raise? Yeah, you’d fire them in a heart beat. So why do we allow politicians, essentially our employees, to continue doing their jobs when they keep exhibiting poor performance?

We should be ashamed, because we’d rather read the latest fantasy sports draft projections instead of the news. We’d rather watched staged reality dating shows instead of C-Span. Does anyone even know of C-Span? It provides coverage of everything happening in Congress, unedited and unbiased. We’d rather go pay attention to the latest celebrity scandal than to the economic and political situations in our own country and across the globe.

We should be ashamed for demanding instead of providing. No one wants to do any hard work anymore. People would rather complain loaf and get paid. While that sounds ideal, nothing gets done that way. That’s not true, something gets done. Companies say screw you and go find cheaper labor elsewhere, like say Mexico or China.

We’ve spent too much time rolling around in our own corpulence instead of taking a stand for our lives and our world. We focus on the trivial instead of the substantial. We distract ourselves with mindless entertainment while a handful of others oftentimes no smarter than your average bear and less qualified make decisions that will ultimately affect our lives, either immediately or in the future. We satiate ourselves with fast food, fast entertainment and shallow lives, never pausing to wonder why things are bad, nor who really is doing something to change it. We just turn a blind eye and think, oh, I’m sure someone will fix it. No, they won’t, because that someone is us. And we’re too busy, what with new episodes of our favorite programs coming back on the air.

We’ve become so apathetic thanks to crap food, sedentary ways and television drivel, we’d rather scarf down food advertised as healthy but worse for you than pure grease while furiously voting for an overblown karaoke contest or a dancing competition instead of feeding our brains and soul and furiously voting for whom leads our nation and the direction and course of our lives, livelihood and future.

Kennedy once said that we should not ask what our country can do for us, but what we can do for our country. That is tight prose loaded with meaning and a call to arms. We are all in this together, and we should work hard and diligently to make this the best place possible. But it seems it has lost its meaning. No one wants to do anything to make their world better. We’re too interested in asking the question, what have you done for me lately?

This breed of politician and government has been created thanks to ideal conditions, much like how the flu takes hold in a body. Yes, what has happened since they latch onto office is their fault, and their actions only seem to be exasperating the problem. But the politicians from both parties are the symptoms of the problem. They are merely capitalizing the system they helped forge. But we allowed them to forge that system. The true cause and problem is our own laziness and apathy. It’s our own fault. And we can either complain, bitch and moan while sitting in the drive thru in our behemoth SUV’s or we can roll up our sleeves like this country used to do, and set to work moving some mountains and getting all of our lives back on the right track. We can get involved, get rid of the bad apples, draw in people who care and want to make real changes, with real ideas and make a positive impact on this country and our world. For those who prefer the first choice, please keep your pieholes shut and stay out of the way. For the rest of us we plenty of shovels to go around and lots to do so lets get to work.

Goodbye 2007 Hello 2008

2008-01-17T18:45:00.000-05:00

Ok, I’m a little late. I know I know. The year has started off slightly busy. Not an excuse, mind you, merely a fact. And I know, I’m overdue for some postings, but worry not. The pipeline is currently stocked full, and soon it will begin flowing. Ok, maybe trickling at first, then flowing, then a short dry spell, some trickle, a short flood, another dry spell, and then some normal flow. But I cannot give away the entire year right away!

Anyway, to start off this year, I’ve decided to shuffle out 2007 and welcome in 2008 in one fell swoop. Mostly because I’m lazy, more than two weeks over due, and they actually fly in symmetry with each other. You’ll see why soon enough.

As for 2007, well, it’s over. That’s pretty much all I can say about it. I’m sure I am not the only one with that opinion. All around I think it was a tough year. And thus far 2008 is shaping up to be similar in more than a few aspects.

But what stamp do I want to put on the year? It was not all bad, after all. And I did have some pretty good firsts again, but I doubt it could be considered a year of firsts. However, I do not want to gloss over them, some were quite fun, some were a bit crazy, and all were memorable.

In 2007 I was lucky enough to…

…see the Rose Bowl Parade in person – Plus it had a huge Star Wars theme and George Lucas was in attendance.

…see Carrie Fisher in her one woman show – Slave Girl Leia in person!

…take a trip to the infamous Rainbow Bar and Grill – home of bad service, overcrowding and poorly constructed facilities. I shant elaborate on the overflowing toilets pouring from the ceiling, or getting yelled at by the bouncers for clogging walkways as we attempted to flee the raining waste water.

…see ice in southern California on the ground. – It was a bit cold.

…try haggis – actually, not that bad if you don’t think about it too much

…host a Super Bowl party – a rousing success that will be repeated in the future.

…visit Santa Anita park – the home of Seabiscuit.

…bet on horse racing – Boy is it complicated for a novice.

…visit Denver – Pretty clean for a city, great architecture, clean air, blue skies, fantastic views and lots of golden retrievers. There I saw…
- An anti War protest
- ate at Sonic – overrated but I do like their tater tots
- Pepsi Center
- Coors Field
- Invesco Field
- 16th Street mall
- Federal Reserve Branch
- Steel Pedestrian Bridge built in 1907 by PA Steel Company of Steelton PA
- Union Station
- Colorado Convention Center
- Civic Center
- State Capital Building
- Bagpipe Band
- Colorado History Museum – wish had more time there. Great stuff

…stay in a hotel suite in Vegas – felt like a king

…go to a Star Wars convention – what a blast! Next time, totally in costume!

…spend an evening at the local race track – nothing like high octane horsepower with friends!

…spend Thanksgiving in Vegas – So much fun with some dear friends. Those were 5 days that almost seem surreal at this point. Plus, there’s nothing like a buffet for Thanksgiving dinner

…make friends with a bartender – it sounds silly, but I had never done it before. And boy, they hook you up when you are friendly and nice!

No, the firsts I had for 2007 were great, but the title does not fit. It does not feel right because of a few of the other big things that happened. No, 2007 was the year of decisions. So don’t let those TV ads that say Decision ’08 fool you! Ok, to be more specific, 2007 was a year for life decisions. I only made a few, but they were big.

In 2007, I decided to…

Get married.

Find a new career and a new job.

Move to Pittsburgh, 2007’s most livable city in America.

Start a new life in a new home, close to family, old friends and back where real seasons exist.

Seems like a handful, does it not? But I think the saying goes, go big or go home. I suppose I’m doing a little of both, no?

But that stamp automatically makes 2008 the year of changes. See, I told you 2007 and 2008 roll together. Why with finding the new career, and a new job to go with it and getting married and moving, by the end of the year everything I have known will change. My world will be completely different from all appearances. I look forward to this year. Already some have started. I’ve kept busy with getting in shape (need to look good for those wedding photos), reading career advice books, reading in general, practicing writing (yeah, I know, no one has seen it, it’s coming), researching job markets and residential areas and planning a big party for friends and family.

There will be much more to come later on the progress, success, failure, stress, joy and sadness of all of these changes. Am I ready for everything? Absolutely. Will I really be when things really start hitting and become less theoretical and more actual? That remains to be seen. I do have an image of me frantically trying to pack boxes late into the night and wondering why I'm doing it. Whether that's a vision of the future or and overactive imagination remains to be seen. One thing is for sure; it should be an adventure.

Christmas Wishes 2007

2007-12-24T17:31:00.000-05:00

I would like to pass on to one and all a very Merry Christmas to one and all. I hope is able to be with friends, family and loved ones and partake in the celebration of the season. I would hope also that we have all given a bit this season of ourselves to help those who are less fortunate than others. Please think of those who today are less fortunate and may not be having a very merry time, and hope that they will be able to soon. Also think of those who cannot be with loved ones due to circumstances like weather, job or something unforeseen. And please think of those service men and women who are deployed around the globe to keep us safe and to help make the world a better place. Whether or not you agree with why they are out there, remember, they are fellow humans, son, daughters, husbands, wives, fathers and mothers who are away from those who love them. There are many among us who need extra support and more joy this time of year, so send them some Christmas wishes and joy to enliven their lives and keep them safe.

If this is not a day for you, then please enjoy the festivities regardless. I understand we all come from different backgrounds, cultures and religions, and even though I celebrate Christmas, not everyone does. I do wish for those who are Hindu, Muslim, Buddhist and Jewish or another faith different from Christianity to find happiness and joy this day as well. I would like to hope that in our world, there is more than enough joy to go around for everybody, regardless of age, sex, race, religion or culture. That would be a wonderful Christmas wish to come true.

Before I go to enjoy the day, I would like to give you a chuckle. I found the following article about 13 years ago. I cannot take credit for writing it; I had absolutely nothing to do with it. I wish I had, because it never fails to make me laugh each year. I always get a profound guffaw from it when I break it out fresh each December. I find it a fantastic merging of myth and science for comedic effect. But before you read this, I would like to state for the record I do not believe any of this is true. The original author, whoever he or she may be, forgot to calculate in the magic of Santa Claus. Yes, scientifically it may seem impossible, but hey, we are talking Santa here! So do not worry, I know the following hypothesis is not true. If you have any doubt, please check out Santa Tracker from NORAD. I’m sure that will provide one of all the proof they need that Santa is indeed real. Now, without further ado, enjoy the following, but remember, take it with a grain of salt. Santa is real. Merry Christmas to one and all.

Santa Facts

1) No known species of reindeer can fly. But there are 300,000 species of living organisms yet to be classified. While most of these are insects and germs, this does not COMPLETELY rule out flying reindeer, which only Santa has ever seen.

2) There are 2 billion children (persons under 18) in the world. But since Santa does not (appear) to handle the Muslim, Hindu, Jewish and Buddhist children, that reduces the workload to 15% of the total – 378 Million according to the Population Reference Bureau. At an average (census) rate of 3.5 children per household, that is 91.8 million homes. One presumes there is at least one good child in each home.

3) Santa has 31 hours of Christmas to work with, thanks to the different time zones and the rotation of the Earth, assuming he travels east to west (which seems logical). This works out to 822.6 visits per second. This is to say that for each Christian household with good children, Santa has 1/1000th of a second to park, hop out of the sleigh, jump down the chimney, fill the stockings, distribute the remaining presents under the tree, eat whatever snacks have been left, get back up the chimney, get back into the sleigh and move on to the next house. Assuming that each of these 91.8 million stops are evenly distributed around the Earth (which, of course, we know to be false but for the purposes of our calculations we will accept), we are now talking about .78 miles per household, a total trip of 75.5 million miles, not counting stops to do what most of us must do at least once every 31 hours, plus feeding and etc.

This means that Santa’s sleigh is moving at 650 miles per second, 3,000 times the speed of sound. For purposes of comparison, the fastest man-made vehicle on Earth, the Ulysses space probe, moves at a poky 27.4 miles per second. A conventional reindeer can run, tops, 15 miles per hour.

4) The payload on the sleigh adds another interesting element. Assuming that each child gets nothing more than a medium-sized Lego set (2 pounds), the sleigh is carrying 321,000 tons, not counting Santa, who is invariably described as overweight. On land, conventional reindeer can pull no more than 300 pounds. Even granting that “flying reindeer” (see point #1) could pull TEN TIMES the normal amount, we cannot do the job with eight, or even nine. We need 214,000 reindeer. This increases the payload to 353430 tons. Again, for comparison, this is four times the weight of the Queen Elizabeth.

5) 353,430 tons traveling at 650 miles per second creates enormous air resistance. This will heat the reindeer up in the same fashion as spacecraft re-entering the Earth’s atmosphere. The lead pair of reindeer will absorb 14.3 QUINTILLION joules of energy. Per second. Each. In short, they will burst into flame almost instantaneously, exposing the reindeer behind them and creating deafening sonic booms in their wake. The entire reindeer team will be vaporized within 4.26 thousandths of a second. Santa, meanwhile, will be subjected to centrifugal forces 17,500.06 times greater than gravity. A 250 pound Santa (which seems ludicrously slim), would be pinned to the back of his sleigh by 4,315,015 pounds of force.

In conclusion, if Santa ever DID deliver presents on Christmas Eve, he’s dead now.

Random Observations II: Idiocy Strikes Back

2007-11-14T18:26:00.000-05:00

Hello all! I enjoyed the previous attempt at throwing out a bunch of nonsense I had seen lately, so I thought I would try it again. Remember, keep your tongue firmly planted in cheek as you read and hopefully laugh uproariously at our own craziness as a society. Have fun!

I miss when ex sports stars would hawk beer. Now they just hawk diet plans.

I recently saw a McDonald’s truck plastered with slogans and gigantic pictures of food on the sides. This is no shocking observation, as they all are decorated in such a way, but two slogans caught my eye. On one side the slogan said, “Merge at taste and quality.” On the back it said, “Are we there yet?” I would say….no, not even close.

I do not understand the Progressive insurance commercial where the woman brings in her car for estimates and repairs because she backed into a pole. The confusing part lies in the point that everyone at Progressive needed to be quiet because her daughter is sleeping and never woke up from the small fender bender. I know the point of the piece is that Progressive will take care of every need, no matter your situation and that they are there to help. But I have more than one issue with this commercial. First, how bad could the damage really be if the collision did not even wake a sleeping child in the car? Second, if it is bad enough that there is damage that requires the car to be repaired or serviced, would not any mother worth her salt immediately wake the child to check on her condition? And third, keeping in mind the damage to the car, why would any parent immediately think to get the car serviced and repaired, if the damage is indeed that bad, and not think to perhaps take the child into a doctor, just for precautionary sake? The ad says to me that stupid people more concerned about material goods than human health use Progressive for their insurance needs.

As anyone seen the home pregnancy test commercial where they say it’s the most sophisticated piece of technology you’ll ever pee on? It has been a while, and they do not crop up as often anymore, so you may have missed this. I know the statement is true as this is how home pregnancy tests work, but it still comes off as kind of gross. Not that I’m a prude or anything, it just seems, well, kinda off. Although I do like that they just put it out there with blunt honesty, because we all know that is exactly what you do with such items. Someone must have been really uptight about it, since they have changed the commercial and now have two versions. And as I think about it, the statement about being the most sophisticated piece of technology you will ever pee on may not be entirely true, I’ve seen people pee on things when they were, shall we say, intoxicated, that they never would sober. Perhaps the commercial should state it’s the most sophisticated piece of technology you’ll ever intentionally pee on. Of course, fits of anger could negate that comment as well. Oh never mind.

Lindsey Lohan desperately needs a parent/role model/guardian/someone who is looking out for her interests and well being, instead of their own. If she does not get one soon, I fear she will self destruct in a very tragic way.

Speaking of which, so does Britney Spears. Probably more so, her implosion seems much more imminent now.

And why are we as a society just so interested in everything Britney does? I’ve never found it fascinating to watch someone whose life is falling apart get into a fender bender when heading out to pick up booze and smokes.

I think we have reached a new low when Kevin Federline can be looked upon as the more responsible of two parents.

There needs to be a tech support number for those who have a clue about technology. I know to try rebooting the computer, to unplug it from a power source for 30 seconds and to check if all the cables are properly attached. When I call, it’s because I have a real problem, not my own stupidity.

Has anyone else noticed the bigger Apple gets, the more it starts acting, from a business standpoint, like Microsoft?

Ok, I have seen one too many cash for gold commercials, and I just have to ask. Who is really sitting around their house going “man, what am I gonna do with all this old gold? It’s just lying around collecting dust!” Who is falling for these commercials and dumping their old gold? I’m afraid to find out just who is getting fleeced.

In continued attempts to merge soccer into the American sports fabric, celebrity and occasional soccer star David Beckham finally arrived in the US to play for Major League Soccer. In his first start for the Galaxy, he scored a goal. News stations breathlessly reported it. The announcer from the game sounded like he had seen God. Guess what? Still no one cares! Football, not soccer, is in season. If an NFL preseason game can get better ratings than Barry Bonds breaking the all time home run record, do you really think Becks has a chance? Especially since he has barely played at all this season due to injury? No, I doubt it since paid attendance for Becks' second home game was 9,223. And that was when he was playing.

An added thought on my rant against dealer license plate frames. Just to recap, I cannot understand why people keep them on their cars, as they do nothing but provide free advertising for the dealer. I believe it says a lot about a person whether they leave the frame on their car or take it off. I’m not sure if it means lazy or stupid, or that they really love their car dealer, but it says something. That should cheese someone off.

Ever been dozing off, and your mind is wandering as you fall asleep, and suddenly hear a loud voice in your head over the din of everything buzzing in your mind? One so loud and commanding it sounds as though it came from inside the room? And for a moment, every thought in your head stops, and in your sleepy state you think it did come from inside the room as you can feel it reverberating in your ears, only to realize a moment later it came from inside your head? Or is that just me?

The latest in advertising slogans, the powered by, as in this show is powered by Joe’s Discount Vodka Emporium. This must be most ridiculous advertising tactic I have heard lately. The sponsor does not provide any power, merely a chunk of change for the show to slap the sponsor’s name on it. It’s nothing more than a new ploy, one made in an attempt to be hip and cool mind you, in the same old game of branding and money. Wait, money seems to be the power of the day, maybe this is accurate.

A local Los Angeles news station actually had a report investigating how dangerous it is to text message and drive. Seriously? We needed an investigative report to tell us this was a dangerous thing to do? This question even needed to be asked? Is it really dangerous to take away your hands, eyes, mind and concentration from the road to type characters onto a 2 inch screen with a 3 inch keyboard? Could this practice really be detrimental? Why didn’t someone tell me before? There should be warning stickers on those phones for idiots with NO COMMON SENSE. Of course, that is assuming they would read and abide by said warning. I doubt that would ever happen.

Of course, the same station also felt we needed an investigative report of the dangers of children in show business. Anyone who has seen the lives of any cast member of Different Strokes, or had the misfortune of hearing or seeing anything featuring Danny Bonaduce, knows the danger.

An odd thought sprung in my mind after seeing a commercial for the Pull Ups training pants with Cool Alert. The big innovation with this product is that as soon as they feel moisture, they become cool, alerting the potty training child wearing them that they need to use the bathroom. I wonder about this particular product as it seems these things have the ability to alter and create behavior. What if the diapers get wet from sweat, do they also get cool then, or is it a chemical reaction with urine? And will this create some sort of Pavlovian response in the kids who wear these? Will they have this ingrained into them into adulthood? What will happen then? Will they find they have an overwhelming urge to pee whenever they sit in a cold seat? Will public seating need to be changed so all seats are warm in the future? If they fall into the snow, and get their pants cold and wet, will they involuntarily go to the bathroom? A few things this product has caused me to ponder.

We now have in our world an Oreo cookie pizza. I guess as a society we are not fat enough.

I must mention a disturbing cinematic trend that has been rearing its ugly head more frequently. Studios and producers have been taking classic works of literature or historical stories and morphing them into ultra violent, supremely gory slaughter fests in which the lead characters do little more than scream most of the time. I enjoy the idea of bringing history to life, even if slightly fictionalized, or bringing classic works of literature to the masses, but must it be done in such a way that pushes down the bar and sets the lowest common denominator at a new subterranean level? I know the stories and works in question were rather violent, but they also had fascinating characters, people and compelling drama. Must we ignore these merely for sensationalized gore? Oh, look, Saw IV is out. That answers my question.

Love In The Time Of Cholera. Not as hot as Lust in the time of the Black Plague, but more romantic overall.

In For A Strike

2007-11-08T03:22:00.000-05:00

Writers of Hollywood, in case anyone missed it, are striking for better pay. Now that may sound absurd, but here is the deal. The crux of the issue, and the main point of contention, is that they receive little to no compensation for DVD sales and new media outlets, such as internet downloads and content for handheld devices such as phones, PDAs and other items.

The works they create are being broadcast beyond the traditional broadcast mediums into an expanding array of new technology and pushed into these new arenas as fast as it can be produced. Unfortunately for the writers, these new mediums were not considered previously, as many did not exist, when discussions of compensation arose in previous contract years. Now they want to be compensated for their work as it is displayed in all mediums.

I see their point as clear as day, and they do have a very good one. If their work is displayed somewhere, they should be given something in compensation for it. No one wants to see someone else get fat off the sweat of their brow. It is humiliating and angering. But at the same time, they seem to be missing the a few key points.

The first point revolves around the idea that the writers feel that everyone should care about this. But why? I am waiting to hear an argument that clearly states why the average person and viewer should care, but thus far the arguments have been quite thin.

I heard one writer/actor from the show Big Shots on the nationally syndicated Tom Leykis radio show attempt at making the case for the writers. He brought up some finances regarding the writers. One of his biggest points was that “baby” writers, those who are young and just getting started, make between $2,500-$3,500 a week for 22 weeks of work and then that work is used to make a profit in a variety of different arenas in which they see nothing.

These writers would be the most impacted by this loss of potential income, as they do not make as much for their work as other more established writers and can find work coming during inconsistent intervals. As I said previously, I can see how that situation would be angering and how someone would desire to change it. But perhaps using these numbers to illustrate your reasoning for a work stoppage is not the best idea.

I am not sure how accurate those numbers really are, but for sake of argument let’s take them at face value. Rounding to the average, let’s say one of these writers makes $3,000 a week and represent the low end of the spectrum for writing compensation. Over 22 weeks, that comes out to $66,000, before taxes.

I am not a math genius or a financial expert, but $66,000 dollars a year, for a half year of work, to sit around, be creative and tell stories sounds like a damn good way to make a living if you ask me. Making that kind of scratch for a half a year of work? And then to have 24 weeks a year to do whatever I wanted? Maybe take a trip, visit family, write a book or a play, and take a second job that may not pay well but could be fun, interesting or challenging and still make a decent living? Where is the bottom line of that contract, I want to put my John Hancock on it today!

By using this math as his example, the actor/writer makes it very difficult for the average person to see the point of the strike or empathize with the position of the writers. In 2005, the median household income was $46,326. Now, you know a majority of the people who hit that average, or are below it, are not obtaining that income by writing or other creative, or even enjoyable, means. No, they are out there busting their humps day in and day out at physically draining and emotionally numbing jobs. And they do it to keep food on the table and a roof over people’s heads, not because it gives them personal satisfaction or its fun. To your average person, seeing people who never have to get dirty during the day to bring home a few bucks arguing over compensation rights when they already make far more in a week than most do in a few months not only seems asinine, but downright insulting. Your average person is not going to care that much about a strike involving already well paid individuals who do not have to struggle just for basic necessities when they have to worry about the potential of figuring out how to avoid $4 a gallon gas.

The second key point missed by the writers comes by their assertion that by striking and bringing a halt to original programming, they will have the edge since people will crave original stories. Without these new shows, people will rise up and put pressure on networks and producers to settle the strike.

Once again they have a point, as most people do enjoy a well told story, be it a comedy, drama or something in between. But what they seem to miss here is that people will find an outlet for that need to be entertained. Books, movies, independent productions, short stories, plays, musicals and more can provide them with that want.

Will people miss their programs? You betcha. I read today the last new episode of The Office will air next week. I love that show, and must compliment not only the actors, but especially the writers. It is well written, funny and intelligent and never fails to deliver in terms of entertainment. But my world will not come to an end. Nor will anyone else’s for that matter. What will I do? I don’t know, read a book, take a walk, play a game, and catch up on the stack of writing I have yet to finish or the pile of movies I have yet to see. The world will continue to turn.

And unlike the last time the writers went on strike, there are far more entertainment outlets for people to occupy themselves with than before. The attention span of our culture is shorter than ever, and people will distract themselves with something else and find new ways to entertain themselves if their favorite shows are gone for any extended period of time.

In an ironic third point missed, the writers seem to overlook that many of the same venues they are fighting to get paid for are going to provide people with entertainment to compensate for the loss of new programming.

The writer mentioned previously also stated that people will not want to watch the filler program put forth. At the very least, he is correct in that assumption when it comes to me. I cannot stand most reality shows, as they have very little to do with reality, and would not be overly upset if the entire genre disappeared. But that did not happen last time the writers walked out for better compensation and is the fourth key point they are missing. The networks found out people will tune in for just about anything, as long as it’s new and somewhat interesting or captivating.

And the networks will not miss a beat. The last time this happened, they were caught flat footed. Not this time. They know the formula that worked last time, and they will play the same cards again and again. Reruns will start us off, and then once a few shows get ramped up, we will see a deluge of game shows and reality programming. Most likely networks will bring in a large influx of sports programming as well. I bet the NHL would love to fill in a few programming holes on a network for a few nights a week. The networks will just throw out whatever they have to in order to ride out the storm, and they will do just fine.

Fifth, they also miss the point in how serious their strike really is. One striker mentioned on a news program interview that they were bringing a stop to productions all over town and that their work stoppage was devastating. Yes, it is, but not to those you wish it to be. They hope that the devastation will be exacted upon the producers, studios and networks and that this will force them to cave. But who is really most affected by this? It’s the support personnel that work on the shows. The grips, electricians, construction people, support personnel, office managers, show managers and all of the other unsung people that contribute to producing entertainment are the ones that will be affected the most. They will not see anything out of this strike in terms of compensation. What they will see are smaller, or missing, paychecks the longer the strike continues.

Unions were originally created to help protect the working man and woman from being taken advantage of and abused by cruel companies. And strikes were their most effective method once negotiations stalled to force those same companies to change working conditions and compensation to raise the standards in which their employees worked and lived. One could argue in this case that the writers are being taken advantage of, but there situation pales in comparison to those who really need a union. The writers are not abused, beaten or risk their lives on a daily basis. They do not work in dangerous conditions, although I have heard some horror stories involving a few, let’s just say demanding, producers. They are well compensated for their efforts. They have health care and pensions and are able to provide for their families. And they cannot lose their jobs on a whim from a petulant superior without consequences. They have all the protections a union should and can provide. In this increasingly cut throat world those kinds of conditions, compensation and protection are becoming far more difficult to find.

If people really wanted to get up in arms about unions and the people they should be protecting in the entertainment industry, they should ask where are the unions for workers like runners, assistants and other personnel of their like? These people work tireless, thankless jobs for beyond minimal compensation doing menial and degrading jobs with only the sliver of hope that perhaps something good could come out of the experience. They are hired and fired, often, on a whim and no one cares what happens to them after that. Some in these positions do manage to carve out a great life, and work for some extraordinary people who treat them well. But those are usually outnumbered by the ones walking through a hell on Earth.

Marc Cherry, the creator and producer of Desperate Housewives, is among the stars and producers on the picket lines supporting the striking writers. His stance and support for the strike is mainly for the younger, less experienced and less tenured writers. He mentioned in an interview on a news program reporting from the lines that this is about those writers who go long stretches between jobs. He makes a good point, as some writers may have a boon of work over a short period of time, but then have a dearth for long periods, even a few years. His, and the overall point, is that if these writers were compensated properly for all avenues their work finds itself, those dry periods would not be as severe.

The point is valid, but perhaps not completely thought through and brings us to the sixth key point those on the lines have missed. See, I feel bad the most for these writers because the short sightedness of those who are running their organization and orchestrating this strike could hurt them more in the long run. The writers may eventually win this battle, but they could lose the war. If the strike lasts for an extended period of time, the networks will gladly fill our entertainment gullets with reality programming, game shows, sports and anything else they can conjure that does not require scripts. If any of those should stick, the networks will keep them around long after the strike ends. If that happens, that means that a portion of the currently airing original programming will be bumped off the air in favor of the much cheaper to produce, and much higher profit generating, reality programming.

If this should occur, it will cause a domino effect that will put writers out of work, create a higher level of competition for less jobs, make it far more difficult for young fresh talent to break into the ranks and lead many of those “baby” writers the organization seems to be most concerned about right out to the unemployment line or even out of the business altogether. Because when available jobs shrink, the union will not protect the young ones, it will protect the longer tenured union members. Perhaps this is worst case scenario thinking, but someone in charge of what is happening should be thinking along these lines as well if they really do mean it when they profess their concern for the writers in their charge.

I do not want to come down on the writers or their union, nor is that my intention. As I said, I think their beef is justified. No one wants to pour blood sweat and tears into their toil only to see others profit from their efforts. But by overestimating the public’s concern for their cause and need for scripted television, underestimating the networks’ ability to overcome the lack of programming, ignoring alternate mediums in providing entertainment to the masses to compensate, disregarding the impact of their strike on others in the entertainment industry and the long term potential ramifications on their own members, I fear what they gain may overall be less than what they lose.

I hope they ultimately get the compensation they are seeking. Everyone wants to be fairly compensated for their efforts, and if people see one group or industry succeed they have hope that they can find the same sort of success as well. Personally, one day I could be a member of their ranks, and would love to be able to get paid for every avenue my work may find itself. I just hope the price they pay today for that victory does not turn out to be too high in the future.

Thank You

2007-10-25T01:48:00.000-04:00

2007 has been a series of trials and tribulations in many ways. Some were minor, others larger than I would have liked, but still manageable and mercifully not of any long term impact. However, I have been spared one trial directly, the fires currently consuming areas of Southern California. Short of having a few friends closer to the fire lines than I would like and some poor air quality, life has continued for me and most of my friends with thankfully little tragedy or loss. And since poor air quality is a way of life in Los Angeles that really does not count. Also luckily, those friends who were on the edge of the disaster are now out of immediate danger.

Thus far, we have been extremely fortunate. Others in the region have not. The numbers are staggering, as of now over a billion dollars in damage in the San Diego area alone has occurred, over 1500 homes have been lost and almost a million people have been evacuated from danger zones. But one thing sticks in my mind. It could be much worse.

There is one reason it is not; the brave men and women who have battled tirelessly on the front lines, in the air and in support since Sunday. For days on end these brave souls have fought tooth and nail against nature and, in at least one case, arsonists to keep people alive and damage to a minimum. They wade into the thick of danger to stem the tide of flame without thought of risk to keep others safe. They fly into reckless winds in an effort to drop one more bucket of water or one more tank of retardant, all in the hope that their effort will keep the fire at bay until it can be contained. They work day and night coordinating people and resources to keep those on the front lines going and giving them everything they can possibly need. They strive to provide comfort and care to those displaced from the safely and security of their homes, many of which have been consumed by an insatiable beast.

Low humidity, high winds and high temperatures have all conspired to make the task of bringing these flames under control nothing short of Herculean. The weather patterns are not expected to change significantly until Thursday, meaning those facing down this tormenter have had the odds stacked against them for days on end. But they have fought on, despite limited air support hampered by the same winds that feed the fires and days and nights that have been an endless struggle to keep the fires from overtaking everything in its path. Injuries, exhaustion and a few who have been severely burned by the fire have weakened their ranks, but not deterred them on their mission. Those in support have comforted and cared for the evacuated, doing everything they can to help those now homeless, or those unsure of what has happened to their homes. They keep those battling the monster strong, providing care, medical attention, water, food, a place to rest or just a pat on the back. Countless volunteers have come forward donating everything from water, food and blankets to their time, blood and shelter. They have demonstrated the best of humanity in the worst of times.

And they have been succeeding in the face of an unrelenting beast. As conditions have improved to combat the blazes, more fires have come under control. More often now we are hearing of fires being contained. But these warriors do not rest or congratulate themselves. They gird up and head to the next fire, as others still rage unfettered, and their efforts are still needed.

These are the true heroes of our society. They are heroes because not only for what they do, but why they do it. They do not do what they do for fame or fortune. They do not ask for accolades or awards. They do not work to sell product or make money. They do not live trite, meaningless drug addled lives and then share their story years later in a tawdry tell all just to see their name in headlines again and line their pockets with cash. They do the work to save lives. They do the work because it means something to them. They do the work because they wish to contribute something tangible and meaningful for society. They do the work because they care.

So to those who put their life on the line everyday to keep others safe, and those who give everything of themselves for others, I want to say thank you. Thank you for what you do. Thank you for who you are. Thank you for being there, day and night no matter the crisis or emergency. I am sure times like these you may here it more often, but I have a feeling you do not hear it often enough. So thank you.

If anyone would like to help, the Red Cross has ways to help provide assistance to those who need. Please go here and see what you can do. Be sure the next time a siren comes by, pull over immediately. Do not make those who work to save lives wait because you feel your time will be inconvenienced by stopping to let them pass. And the next time you see a firefighter, EMT, police officer, Red Cross personnel or volunteer, thank them and ask them what you can do for them. They do more for us than we ever know.

On Second Thought

2007-08-06T04:37:00.000-04:00

Real life interrupts. It is a phenomenon we all encounter. Sometimes it interrupts on a daily basis, sometimes much more infrequently. And there are times when life piles on like a gang tackle, on item after another stopping you from the things you want to do most. July began with big plans to address some long simmering thoughts and musings that have permeated my mind lately. It ended pretty much the same way, unfortunately. And I spent much time thinking about how things can turn on a dime and stressing about life and the future. But in its wake was left something I never expected, but desperately needed, a perspective on what is truly important in life.

I began writing this a few days ago, and I started with a completely different thought process. In that moment, I focused mostly on the punches I had taken over the past month, and there were quite a few.

The month began with my car being totaled, while it was parked no less. A fairly impressive feat, to say the least as most need to be moving to total their car. This necessitated the always aggravating process of dealing with insurance companies, searching for new wheels, and the worst part, dealing with car salesmen. Anyone who has ever purchased a car knows how painful this process can, but should not, be. Suffice to say, the experience led me to see where all of those car purchase stories originate.

By the time the month hit the third week, my computer crashed. As I use it not only for personal things but also as my primary tool for work, this had the potential as an absolute nightmare. Everything I have worked on, and been working on, was locked on a hard drive that I could no longer boot. I spent the weekend in sheer panic mode, fretting that so many things I had worked on were potentially lost forever.

And as the month came to a conclusion, I pulled one additional bad card on the draw. I suffered the worst pinched nerve I have ever had. It went from my neck and traveled down my back and past the shoulder blade. For two days, I could barely move my neck, and never without excruciating pain. As July passed, I was feeling fairly snake bitten and was contemplating my luck and how it turned seemingly sour.

So I was contemplating all of these things, my physical ailments, failing technology and being saddled with a car payment on an already stretched budget as I drove to work. I stopped at a stoplight, not far from the office, my mind swirling with all of these thoughts when a truly wonderful thing happened. I found out just how lucky I am.

As I sat there I noticed a man, sitting beside a bus stop. This man was obviously homeless, as all of his possessions and worldly goods were crammed into a beat up shopping cart by his side. He sat on a well worn cushion, one he most likely used as a bed the previous night. His legs, sticking out of a too short pair of pants, were impossibly skinny. His face was weathered from the outdoors, lack of regular meals and the hardness of the life that he has been dealt. As I watched this man, sitting in his own contemplation of his day and his life, I thought that he does not have these concerns. His concerns revolve around finding enough to eat, a place to clean up on occasion, keeping himself safe from those who would do him harm to take what little he has left from him. He has no worries about car payments or new hard drives or the small irritant of a pinched nerve. He worries about staying alive without medicine or proper care, finding a warm place to sleep at night and for some peace in a life that has none. And I bet if he had an opportunity, he would be willing to trade his problems for mine any day.

I had never seen the man before, and most likely will never see him again. The life of the homeless tends to be nomadic. Moving from area to area, away from the stares of those who feel they lower property value and wish not to be reminded of the failings of our society. And moving toward somewhere with the hope of finding a respite from the elements, of the fight to stay alive, and the chance to find someone kind enough to give them something to eat, and place to stay, and a bit of hope. So most likely I will never be able to thank this man, because in the few seconds I spent watching him, he gave me something invaluable. He gave me the gift of perspective, and it allowed me to see things in a new light.

With my eyes now focused with this new light, I looked upon the previous month in a new way. July had many great things to it. I was able to spend the July 4th holiday at the house of two close friends, who in the next year will stand before friends and family and pledge their love and lives to each other. Being able to partake in their generosity of opening their home to friends and family to spend the holiday with them was a memory I will not soon forget. I was able to attend the wedding of two friends, a couple who share a strong bond of love and friendship, and revel in their joy. I was able to attend the birthday party of a friend, one who I find a great and genuine person, and being invited to celebrate the occasion with him I felt was a precious gift in itself. My fiancé and I were feted by friends in celebration of our impending nuptials. And the efforts put forth by them, and their presence at the party, showed us how much we mean to them, and more importantly how much they mean to us. And the month ended with a great weekend spent playing games and watching one of my favorite films with great friends, who came to our house to spend the evening with food, drink and camaraderie. These are all things that are a part of a great life.

And as for the bad things, once I thought more of each one they all had a silver lining. The car situation seemed bad, but the outcome was far from it. I learned many things of how to deal with insurance companies, body shops and the process of having a car totaled something that may come in handy one day. Hopefully not, but the knowledge is always good to have. I was not in the car when it happened, so my physical being was never injured, which is always a good thing. I now have a fantastic, and funny, story from my dealings at the car dealership, and a funny story can go a long way. And while I was enjoying not having a car payment, it is something I can afford without breaking the bank. And I ended up with a vehicle I have wanted for some time, and one that will be beneficial for me in the coming years.

The computer situation felt devastating at the time, but now, it showed me what matters most. I learned how to recover from such a catastrophe, and computer knowledge is always a good thing. I managed to save everything I had done and worked on. And most importantly, I learned how much writing meant to me. Of all of the things I could have potentially lost, my writing was the one thing that I kept coming back to time and again. The thought of losing work made me ill, and worried me to no end that all that effort and creativity might be gone forever. The realization struck me hard, that despite my own misgivings, personal demons and self doubt, I know what direction to work toward for my future.

And finally, the nerve issue. Yes, it was painful and annoying. But it was merely that, painful and annoying. It eventually passed, without any permanent damage. And it made me realize that as I get older, I need to take better care of myself. As the saying goes, I am not as young as I used to be. With that firmly in mind, I finally began to exercise again, working to make sure I can keep this aging vessel in sturdy and functioning shape for many more years.

No, July was not a rough month, as I once thought. It was a great month, filled with eye opening revelations, fantastic events and life long memories. And thanks to one man who has lost much, I realized how much I really have in this life. And compared to many, I have much to celebrate and enjoy. Life does interrupt, but not as I once thought. It interrupts our ability to recognize the life we have and enjoy what is around us. Thankfully, I got just the dose of perspective I needed to open my eyes. And from what I can see, there are a lot of good things out there as long as we allow ourselves to see them.

Ten Year Anniversary

2007-06-30T14:02:00.000-04:00

Ten years is a long time. Many things can happen in that amount of time. The landscape of a city can change radically. Sports teams can move and become beloved in their new locale. Governments can change and alter the course of our world. Pizza Hut can find a new place to put cheese on a pizza. But one thing in my life that has not changed in 10 years is that my brother is still chugging along with the rest of us.

You see, today marks the 10 year anniversary of the accident that almost snuffed out his life prematurely. 10 years ago my brother went through a horrific car accident that many people do not survive, and somehow he managed to make it through to today. And today, on that anniversary, I am unbelievably grateful to still have him with us, and in my life.

To give you a little background on him, Chuck is a card, a goof, a great guy and somewhat of a legend, at least to me and those who have heard me regale tales of his exploits. He is the kind of guy who would give you the shirt off his back to help someone out, without question. As an example, without thought or concern, he helped me buy my first car, never asking once or worrying when I would pay him back. He is always friendly, and a quick wit, and always ready to tell you exactly what is on his mind, which could be either hilarious or mortifying, depending upon your sensitivities. But he is unconcerned with how people look at him. He knows who he is, and you either like him or do not. Most of the time, people love him. Those that do not, well, they just do not get him and I genuinely feel sorry for them.

I have told his exploits far and wide, usually with the listener staring in disbelief at some of the adventures he has had. I feel that his life could be a movie, and one day I will make it, just to be able to have the title card at the front that reads….

“I SWEAR what you are about to see depicted is based on actual events that really did happen to one man.”

Of course, knowing the whole story as I do, I am sure most people would never believe it. One day I will share more of his story. But for now, I would rather sit back and share the events of that time, and share my gratitude of having my brother, and his unique self, with us today.

At the time, my brother was 22, and like all of us at that age, he ran roughshod over the world. He had a great job doing something he enjoyed, always had a pretty girl on his arm, his own wheels and money in his pocket. Not too bad for a kid learning to make his way in the world. And like all of us at that age, he felt no pain or exhaustion. Almost nothing could, or did, slow him down. But even the most stern of constitutions requires rest and rejuvenation from time to time, and his did as well. But like most youth who feel they know more than those who come before him, he did tend to ignore these needs from time to time. The end result was a man who would crash hard and sleep heavy, only to leap up and start all over again. Occasionally a word would be spoken to slow down, but never was it heeded. There was life to be led.

It is believed that it is this mentality of run until you drop potentially caused the accident. Perhaps it was a tired brain and slower motor skills that impaired reaction time. Or possibly just a tired driver on the road that nodded off at the wrong time. I know many people who have said they were so tired they caught themselves nodding off behind the wheel, only to blast the stereo and open all the windows to help keep them awake and focused. I myself, when working a third trick job, can think of times making the drive to work in the dead of night where once I arrived at work, could not remember one moment of the previous drive. Not that I was sleeping, but merely on autopilot, my brain as inactive as possible to conserve energy.

Whether it was exhaustion, lack of focus or some other unknown factor that caused the accident, it nonetheless happened. And it happened during a busy time of the day on a two lane stretch of road in the middle of Pennsylvania. A stretch of road that is notorious for accidents. It is an over trafficked section that sees thousands of cars each day, and many accidents a year, a portion of them fatal. At almost anytime of the year, you can unfortunately drive this stretch and see, somewhere along its route, a marker, reminder or a fading memorial to someone who lost their life on this road. It has been a major problem for a long time, and a freeway extension, meant to alleviate traffic, has been dragging through the construction phase for years, with no end in sight. It was on this road, on a curve close to home, where everything happened.

I remember clearly that I had been at work that Monday, toiling away at my stupid post college job of schlepping overpriced toys. I had plans for the evening, and had skipped breakfast and lunch in anticipation of a great dinner out. I received a phone call later in the afternoon from my mother, who sounded like a mess. She said I had to leave work and drive her home right away. This was not a request; she was telling me what had to happen. She never elaborated why, all she said was what I needed to do, and one of her co-workers would be by to pick me up shortly. I did find it odd, but never thought it was anything major. My mom sometimes gets debilitating migraine headaches, the kind where if you are a block away and step on a twig, she can feel it in her head. From the way she sounded, I figured it was one of these, and that is why I needed to go. I told my boss I needed to leave early, which was fine, and called and postponed my plans for later. At that point, I figured dinner would just be delayed until I could make it home and back.

When her co-worker arrived, that’s when I found out just how long it would be delayed. She filled me in on what scant details she knew. My brother had crossed the center line and plowed head on into an SUV. The accident was so severe, he was being life flighted to an emergency center in Johnstown, about an hour and a half from my parents house. The police on the scene had called my father, who by then was home from work, and let him know. And he in turn called my mom, who then became upset in only a way a mother whose child is hurt can be. I started the long, arduous task of trying to process exactly what I had been told, which would continue for over a month. To say it was shocking was an understatement. Dumbfounding would have been an understatement. I have trouble thinking of the proper adjective, even now, to describe how I felt. One thing I was able to think about, and needed at that point, was information and fast. My first hope for that was from my mother.

When we arrived at my mother’s office, she was a predictable mess, and barely able to walk to the car. As we started driving, she told me what she knew, which was what her co-worker had told me. My dad did not go into details about it, knowing full well how hard she would take it. Smart cookie my dad is. We headed off for home, taking the heavily trafficked route, and knowing almost immediately we should have taken the back roads home. The traffic was crawling, bumper to bumper. I had a sinking suspicion I knew why. The normally 30 minute drive ended up dragging on for almost an hour and a half; giving both of us way too much time to think and reflect on what happened. It is never good to be in your head for that long, especially when you are obsessing about something bad and have very little information about it. As we were almost to the turn for home, we came upon the scene. The cars were long gone, as was most evidence of automotive devastation and the rescue workers who had been there just hours before. But there, covering most of the road was a gigantic dark spot, where obviously engine fluids had leaked. I felt sick to my stomach, my mother seemed numb.

I do not remember much about the last part of the drive to the house. I felt too much in a daze. Up until that point, it all seemed too surreal, perhaps like a story or a news report. You knew it was real, but had no tangible connection to the events, so everything before coming upon the scene took on a bit of detachment. Seeing the curve, and the stain, brought everything into stark focus. This was real, this was happening, this was bad. Kind of like getting punched in the face while being in a daydream. Or in this case, a nightmare.

We stopped at home only for a moment. Pretty much just long enough to feed the dog, drop off a few things, make a few quick calls, collect my dad and head for the hospital. I called my girlfriend, with whom I had dinner plans, and let her know. She immediately offered to come with, and I declined, saying there was no need at the moment. I did not know what to expect once we got there, and I did not want someone else there at that time, especially if things got worse. Now, I cannot remember if it was during this time, sometime earlier, or perhaps the next day, but someone thought to call my brother’s girlfriend, who was home in Florida for the summer. She immediately got a flight to come back, and for the next few months lived with us. She was a good person, who did genuinely care about my brother. The problem was she was a very type A person and wanted things done her own way, sometimes in ways that were contrary to what my parents wanted. This did create a bit of friction as time went on, especially since my parents did not care for some interloper telling them how to care for their child, his girlfriend or not. Sometimes the moments were tense, sometimes they were high comedy, but in the end, it was one more person working hard to help my brother. Even though many things from that time remain vividly in my mind, I just cannot remember when she first appeared after this day.

After these things were done, my dad grabbed the wheel and started us on our way to the unknown and frightening. No way was he letting my mom drive, especially since she was in no condition to safely take the wheel, and no way was he letting me drive. Not now, this was his time to be the patriarch and guide us there safely, and I am glad he did. Now, it is during times like these where you know things in your world are off by what happens around you. My dad is a slow driver. Not grandma with a beehive behind the wheel slow, but a Mr. 55 stays alive slow. I know he had a youth once, but I do not think I ever once saw him go over the speed limit before. This day, he had no problems whatsoever stretching the five mile over the limit rule. He needed to be there as bad as the rest of us, maybe more so. My dad and my brother are a lot alike; I can see a lot of each in the other. They sometimes cannot see it, but I can, and my mother can as well. My dad is somewhat old school, not one to really share feelings and talk about things. A bit stoic in that aspect, so I doubt he would ever talk in depth about the impact my brother’s accident had on him. But I could tell, at least in that moment by his driving, the impact was deep and profound.

It was during the drive as well that I finally smoked in front of my parents. I had been hiding it, keeping it from them and thinking I was all smooth. Even though they had been around for a few years longer than I and had figured it out long before then. And even though I was an adult, and could make my own decisions, I just did not want to do it in front of them. Now, on this day, I did not care. And for once, my mother did not care about me or my father smoking. We even smoked in her car on the way something my mother had forbade anyone from doing in her car ever. I could tell how hard it was hitting her, if something like that, which she detested so much, had zero impact on her. What was not helping any of us was a lack of information on his condition and injuries. So once again, we were all in the car, with too much time on our hands and too much time in our own heads with little information. And all we could do was bide our time until we arrived.

Evening was beginning to transition into night when we arrived. We found our way to the intensive care unit, and were told that my brother was currently in surgery. It was at this time we got a good picture of what he, and the doctors, were up against in the battle to save his life. He had extensive bruising and some abrasions all over his body as well as massive swelling. There was also some internal bruising, but the extent was unknown. There was a large puncture wound below his bottom lip, where his bottom teeth burst through on impact during the collision. His left elbow was a mess, ground down and damaged in the collision. His right femur was broken. Both of the bones in his lower left leg were broken and his left femur was shattered and needed to be completely reconstructed. That is the one that gave me pause. The bone was shattered. The femur is the strongest bone in your body; it takes a hard impact just to break it. The amount of force needed to shatter the bone is almost unfathomable. It helped bring into chilling perspective just what had happened on that road. The staff there gave us a bag that contained his personal items. Shorts, underwear, wallet, stuff in his pockets and socks were contained within. They said the jersey he was wearing was ruined, since they had to cut it off of him, and they threw it away. But as I looked into the bag, I wondered aloud where his shoes were? I would find out eventually, but not this night. We retired to the waiting room, dazed and stunned, to see just what would come next and wait to find out how the surgery would go, hoping and praying for the best in the face of the worst.

Waiting for anything is always the worst. You just never know when or if what you want will occur. Especially in a situation like this, there are just so many variables occurring at one time. You want to do something to help, but you cannot. The feeling of helplessness and impotence are at times overwhelming, and can drive a person to the brink of madness. You have no direction, no information, and no clue as to when it will end and what the result will be. That feeling engulfed us as we sat and contemplated what was happening somewhere in the hospital to Chuck. We spent the time trying hard to distract ourselves, and each other, from the grim thoughts that he might not make it through the surgery. We talked of what could be happening, joked about some of Chuck’s past misadventures and injuries and worked hard to reassure each other, and once again ourselves, that he was a strong, tough kid who would fight hard and had more than one guardian angel looking over him. Occasionally we would leaf through one of the magazines available, and far too often, my dad and I would adjourn for a cigarette.

Before I go on, please know I would never recommend smoking, unless you are smoking a ham or a turkey. It is a bad habit and one I have fought, and keep fighting, to break. But those moments, late into the night on the outdoor deck of the hospital with my dad are a few of the cherished memories I have of that time. My father and I are different people, and I have mentioned this point before. But on this night, brought together by a terrible accident, we had a few great moments out there. We talked as we rarely do, about important things, life and of things of a grander scale than just daily lives and sporting teams. While I would prefer to have such conversations under better terms, and I am sure he would as well, we did have a few good moments amidst the sadness of the day. At least until we felt we had left mom alone too long, and then would work our way back up to join her. But throughout the evening, and well into the night, we would find our way out there again, where the only company we would find would be a highly stressed nurse or doctor puffing away to alleviate some tension or the sound of crickets coming from a distance. We would talk and chain smoke (something I had never seen my father do before or since, thus revealing his personal turmoil) while trying to make sense of what had happened. We did manage to find, looking over the hospital complex, where the surgical theaters were located. We also deduced which one Chuck was in. Occasionally, we would see someone carrying out bags of medical waste and wondered both curiously and frightened, just what was going on in there.

Eventually, mercifully, almost impossibly, the waiting came to an end. Thinking about it now, it still seems like we were in there for days, waiting to find out about the surgery. As it turned out, it lasted to around 2am. None of us had slept yet, how could we with what was happening? The ICU nurse told us the main surgeon had gone home, exhausted from putting in a full day, and then performing 8 hours of surgery on my brother. She told us he would speak with us in a day or two to go over everything that happened, but wanted to impart that the surgery went well, and that Chuck had at this point about a 50/50 shot of pulling through, but the doctor felt good about his chances since Chuck has a strong heart and is young and healthy. While hearing the 50/50 part left chills, we were heartened by the other news. Taking pity on us, and knowing we would not be able to rest without seeing him, she let us look in on him for a few minutes, and then she insisted we go home, get some rest and come back again tomorrow during visiting hours. We thanked her, collected our stuff, and walked into the ICU, to see my brother.

Being the middle of the night, the place was really quiet. I was thankful for that, as I do not think a lot of commotion would have been good for me, or any of us. His room was not far from the main doors, three rooms in if I remember correctly. I never counted, and each time I walked to the room it seemed as though I was walking in a daze. The ICU tends to have that sort of effect on a person. We walked in silence, not wanting to speak our fears nor disturb the others striving to survive. Without fanfare, we came upon his room. We walked in, and there he was, lying on a bed covered in a silver reflective blanket. The nurse told us that was to help keep in his body heat, but it only added to the surreality of the situation. I stood there for a few minutes, my mind unable to grasp the images my eyes were sending it. I turned and walked out, without saying anything. I could not be there. I found the nearest bathroom I could find and let out a quiet sob. It was hard to bear, much harder than I ever imagined. My brother was my muscle. We always joked of such things. I had the brain and the wit; he had the muscle and the smart assed nature, thus making us a perfect team. And now, the muscle was lying on a bed, broken. I took a few minutes for myself in the bathroom, working to pull myself together. I needed to go back to his room and see him, not just for me, but also for him and for my parents. Splashing some water on my face, I turned and made my way back to the room.

With myself pulled together, if only slightly more than before, I took stock of everything. I believe they had him hooked up to every possible machine on the planet. I even think there was a smog testing machine in there, but I cannot be 100% sure on that one. Could just be a figment of my imagination. They were all beeping in a sort of rhythm together, showing us that they were keeping him safe, at least for the moment. They had a breathing tube in him, since he was not strong enough to breathe on his own yet. Heart monitors, EKG machine, and everywhere you looked numerous wires and tubes running in and out of him. He had an IV, a heart catheter to monitor what was going on with his ticker, other monitors that I am still not sure what they did, but they were all needed. And in the middle of all of this, was my brother, bruised, broken, and really swelled up, but still my brother.

One image that has stuck with me to this day, as vividly as if I saw it only moments ago, was of his chest. My brother and I were part time basketball fans. I say part time since neither of us had a true favorite team, mostly favorite players. And the one player we adored was Charles Barkley. We loved him in Philadelphia, and loved him in Phoenix. We both were hoping he’d win that finals, but Jordan and company had something to say about that. Regardless, he was a big fan; he had a Barkley Phoenix Suns jersey, and happened to be wearing it that day. That was the jersey they cut off of him to save his life. But the jersey was still with him, in a way. Across his chest was a massive bruise that looked exactly like the mesh pattern of the jersey. The force of the impact had bruised him through his jersey. It was startling; mind boggling, and kind of funny all at the same time.

After a few minutes, the nurse came back and told us it was time to go. So we bid adieu, thanked them for all they had done so far, wished Chuck luck and gave him love and headed home. The drive back seemed much shorter than the drive there, perhaps because we had some answers, perhaps because we were all physically exhausted and mentally drained, or perhaps because none of us noticed the distance because we were lost in thought. When we arrived home, we found ourselves ready to crash. My mom, noticing I had not eaten, told me to eat. Being foolish and stubborn, I said I was not eating until Chuck could, and promptly went to bed. We all grabbed only a few hours sleep. We wanted to be back in time for the first visiting hour’s window the next day.

Rising from semi slumber, I showered and grabbed a few things that might help pass the time, almost in a dream like state. It still did not seem real, and my lack of rest and food was not helping that sensation. Before we left, my mother had called work to let them know she would not be in for a while, unsure of exactly when she would be returning to her position. She also called my brother’s job to let them know what had happened. My dad called work and took the week off, and I followed suit. Like I was in the right mind to be stocking shelves anyway. I saw the local paper that morning and splashed across the front page was an article about Chuck’s accident, complete with a picture of his totaled car. Looking at it, I could not believe he was even alive to be life flighted to the hospital. So with that in mind, and after taking care of the dog who at this point was beginning to think we were crazy, we piled in the car again and headed back, a ritual we would perform everyday together for the next week.

If you drive to Johnstown from Tyrone, where my parents live, you will pass by a small town called South Fork. It is one of the many small towns you can find throughout the state, each with a history and charm, or lack thereof, of their own. The only thing that is really distinguishing about this small coal mining town is that it is the birthplace and hometown of Charles Bronson. That’s right; Mr. Death Wish came from a tiny little town in Pennsylvania. I bring this up because each and every time we would pass this town, both coming and going to the hospital, my dad would a make sure to point this out. We already knew this piece of trivia; he was doing it mainly for the humor and to break things up. And you always could sense it coming as soon as you saw the exit signs.

He would say, “You see that town?”

“Yeah”

“That’s South Fork”

“Yeah”

“You know who’s from there, don’t you?”

“No, who?” Always said with a touch of naiveté to egg him on further.

“Charles Bronson, that’s who!”

Even now, thinking about it ten years later, it still cracks me up. On one drive back, I rode with Chuck’s girlfriend and we followed my parents. As we passed South Fork, I could see my dad gesturing with his hand toward the town, and I cracked wise about him telling my mom for the 1000th time that’s where Charles Bronson is from. I found out later he did that just for my benefit, to see if I noticed he said it again. I did notice indeed. Finding out later why he did it somehow made it even funnier to me.

After the comedy of South Fork, we arrived at the hospital not long afterward and back to the ICU in time for the first visiting hours of the day. The ICU at Conemaugh has very strict visiting room hours, as I am sure all ICUs do. Three one half hour increments spread out throughout the day were all you were permitted. And when that time was up, it was immediately back to the waiting room with you, no ifs ands or buts. We found out when we arrived that Chuck had made it successfully through the night, thus upping his odds significantly. This made us much happier, but he still had a long way to go, and was still in a coma. They also informed us he needed additional surgeries on his elbow to repair the damage there, and on his lower leg to install an external fixator to keep the bones braced while they heal. It seemed as though he had even further to go, but we felt good about the initial prognosis and how he was doing thus far.

Nothing terrible or exciting happened that first full day in the ICU. We visited him all three times, looking in to see him and look for any sign of movement. It seemed though that his brain shut his whole self down in order to protect and heal the body. Smart brain, if you ask me. After the third visit, we reluctantly left, buoyed that he seemed to be doing ok so far, but still worried beyond belief. I called my girlfriend that evening and told her the whole story, letting her know what was happening. She was very understanding and caring, probably why we are still friends today. And finally, I ate. I had not eaten for two days, and my brain and body were screaming for something, anything. I knew if I did not eat, I would be no good to anyone. I really did not want to eat until Chuck could eat without the aid of tubes and people, but I also knew that was absurd and ridiculous. I remember I had a Subway sandwich, and it tasted like Styrofoam with mayo.

After the first full night of sleep any of us had had since Sunday, we left again for our second full day in the ICU, which proved to be more eventful. After seeing Chuck for the first time, we finally got to meet with the surgeon who worked on him. He explained in great detail what had happened on Monday night in the operating room, and everything he and his team did for Chuck. Speaking with him and talking about everything helped greatly. It took away much of the lingering mysteries and questions we had. They spent a large amount of time reconstructing his left femur, putting in a rod to stabilize the leg and giving the bone something to heal around and take shape. They also inserted a rod into his lower leg and his right leg to stabilize those as well. All were secured with numerous screws to keep everything in place as it healed. They worked hard on his elbow, but he said that it may always have damage as how it was injured. And the doctor also said he would always have a scar below his bottom lip, but that was to be expected. The one really disturbing part was that he stated that during x-rays, they found a bruise on his brain. With his current condition of being in a coma, they did not know yet exactly how this would affect Chuck. It may keep him in the coma, it may show up as brain damage later if and when he comes out of it, it may end up being nothing. They just did not know yet, and only time would reveal how it would affect him. We joked with the doctor, asking him if he was sure it was a new bruise, since Chuck had a tendency to hit his head growing up.

I must point out one thing about my family before you read that last sentence again and begin to think we’re ghouls. We have an amazing ability to deal with painful situations like this through humor. In times of sadness and sorrow, we work hard to buoy ourselves and others by making jokes and laughing about good times. It is not meant to be mean, nor are we glossing over the gravity of the situation. In fact, we are acutely aware of the gravity of the situation. This is why we turn to humor as a defense mechanism and also as a way to alleviate the tension, pressure and stress. And most importantly, we use it so we think of the person at the center of the situation in fond and fun times.

As an example, a few years after this, my grandmother passed away. At her funeral, my father, brother and I were all outside the funeral parlor, laughing and joking about the good times we had with her. It was never mean spirited or cruel, just a way for us to keep her in mind during times when she was with us. We all knew how much she meant, and how much we would miss her, but we did not want to focus on her passing and being gone from our lives, but rather on the times we had with her. And at this time, in face of the potentially heartbreaking news of a brain injury, we did the same with Chuck. We recalled some of the many times he hurt himself as a kid, running around like a nut. Or of some of the crazier things he had done. Some might look at us and think we are horrible human beings for treating such a time with what appears to be a cavalier attitude. But it is not like that at all. We just prefer to find a different way to keep our loved one in our minds and keep our spirits up, instead of focusing on the negative and potentially devastating.

After discussing the ramifications of the injuries with the surgeon, we discussed the upcoming surgeries he would require. One would be the next day, and another the following week. They would have done them sooner, but the doctors wanted to make sure he was stable enough to go through surgery again. So far, he was fighting like a champion. We thanked him for all he had done, and would continue to do and for being there for Chuck, and went about the day of waiting in the ICU.

The ICU waiting room is a strange place. You form camaraderie with the other people there. You see each other every day, as everyone always comes back around the same time to begin their own waiting. You become familiar with their faces, movements and activities for passing the time. After a while, you become familiar with their stories and lives. And you find yourself saying just a small extra prayer for them, and for their loved one. All of you know why the others are there. Everyone is sitting vigil over a loved one in serious condition, not knowing if this could be your last moments with them. You see the pain of potential loss on everyone else there, and know you are also looking at a reflection of yourself. Yet at the same time, everyone there works hard to stay upbeat, to keep their spirits up and to also help others keep their spirits up as well. In some ways, it’s like a communal support group, even though some waiting there will leave with their loved ones having passed on. It’s strange that you can bond with people under such circumstances, but you do. You feel for them and what they are going through, even as you go through the same thing. You hope for the best for them, and in turn they end up doing the same for you. It is an experience like none I have ever had. And while it was rewarding in its own way, I hope I never have that experience again.

The other thing that happened that day broke my heart, and keeps me wondering what ifs to this day. Another young man came into the ICU that day. He was the same age as Chuck, 22, and was involved in a car accident that was similar to Chuck’s in many ways. The one way it differed was that this young man was not wearing his seat belt, while Chuck did have the forethought to put his on. The young man was ejected from his car through the windshield, landing on the pavement in front of the vehicle. The rescue teams and surgeons worked tirelessly to save his live, but all of their skill and effort was for not. The young man was brain dead. The doctor working on him had to break the unbearable news to the family waiting in the ICU. He explained everything to them, and what would happen next, and talked with them about what they wanted to do. It just tore your heart out to see these people in their anguish, knowing they would not see their son or brother ever again. They knew he was gone, and opted to donate his organs in hopes of saving someone else.

I felt horrible for them, and at the same time kind of selfish. I was glad that Chuck had survived, and felt guilty that he did and their loved one did not. Chuck was not out of the woods yet, and had a very long way to go with many questions still up in the air about his condition. But at least he was alive, and I was grateful for that. But at the same time I felt guilty about being happy, since they lost everything. There were no more questions, or hopes for a better prognosis, for their son and brother. He was gone. It was such a heart wrenching experience, since only two days before we were so close to being in their exact shoes, and at that moment were merely a few steps away from being in their shoes. I wondered what if Chuck had been careless and forgotten to put on his seatbelt. Considering the severity of the accident, and the picture I saw of the car, none of us would probably have ever made it to the hospital, since he never would have either. I wondered what if their son had put on his seatbelt, would he have survived the accident. Sometimes I wonder what he might be today. And no matter if I am driving or riding with someone, to this day when I get into a car I put on my seatbelt. And each time I do, I think of Chuck and know this is one of the reasons he is with us today. For if he had not buckled up, I may be writing something very different today.

We left the hospital still hoping for the best, keeping ourselves grounded in reality with the possibilities for the worst, and thinking of the poor family who lost their son. Tomorrow they would do some more surgery on Chuck, and hopefully it would go well.

The next day we did not go right away to the hospital, as there was no point with him being in surgery. Instead, I went out with Chuck’s girlfriend on a hunt to find the car. I knew the guy who towed it from the scene. He was a friend of Chuck’s from high school who had his own towing business, so I had a good idea where the car could be located. With this in mind, we set out to search and recover anything of his in the car.

I also found out some more information on the scene of the accident. The other car was not as bad off as Chuck’s, but did take some punishment. Of course, when you put a Chevrolet Cavalier against a Jeep Grand Cherokee, the Cherokee will win every time, as it did this time. The people in that car were not too bad off, but did have some injuries. A woman passenger in the front had some minor cuts and bruises, and the male driver broke his leg. The most extensive was the older woman passenger in the backseat, who broke her hip, and they lost their dog. After the accident, someone tied the dog to a hay bale to keep it out of the way. When the helicopter got there, the dog got loose and ran away. I never did find out if they found the dog. Give me a break, though, I had my mind elsewhere that week.

Also, apparently Chuck was semi conscious after the accident, and kept trying to get out of the car. The rescue workers had to keep him calm and have him sit still until they could get him out. You see, the accident smashed the car in such a way that it was impossible for him to get out. The driver side door could not be opened, and the dash had compacted so that the space between the wheel and the seat was less than a foot. In this space, my 6’3” brother was jammed. The rescue teams had to use the Jaws of Life to tear the roof off to be able to properly extract him from the car without further injuring him. Amazement was my reaction to this knowledge, since I just had a hard time wrapping my head around what he went through and managed to survive. I had to see the car.

We drove to where I thought the car was, and turned into the area. Driving slowly back a stone lane, I could see the red exterior of his car, the familiar pattern of tail lights glinting in the sun. There it was his mangled car. We parked and slowly walked up to it, in utter amazement that this pile of twisted metal was once a car. The rear looked fine, as did most of the tires. But the left side and front were a complete disaster. The roof was sitting in the backseat, having been put there after they got Chuck out. The dash was all askew having been pushed backward toward the rear of the car. The steering wheel was partially bent from its impact into Chuck. The front and the engine compartment were crushed, the damage the most extensive there. The left front tire was destroyed as well. So much for that new set he just purchased not long before. On the driver’s seat were spots of dried blood, right between where his legs would have been. I surmised it came from the injury to his lip, but who knows. It was staggering to behold.

I took as many pictures as I could and we began the process of pulling out his stuff. Chuck was, and still is, pretty big on customizing his car. If you ask me, he set the tone for Pimp My Ride. So he had a few things of value in the car. We pulled out his tapes and CDs, any random change as well as important papers from the glove box. We found the tools he had and pulled them, also using them to salvage other items. The head deck and front tweeters were toast, so we left them. But we pulled out the back speakers, the subwoofers and the other stereo equipment he had that was still usable, which was a fair amount, considering the condition of the car. And in the backseat, I found his left shoe. I have no idea how it got there, but there it was. My guess was they took it off at the scene and just threw it in the back. But the right one was not with it, so I began to search around for it, and found it unfortunately. It was on the driver’s side floorboard, wedged between the accelerator and the brake pedal. The laces were cut, and the tongue splayed open. I reached for it and gave it a tug, but it never budged. Once again, the severity of the accident punched me right in the face. He could not move his foot. The pedals bent together during the collision, trapping his foot between them. He could have never gotten out of the car. They had to cut him out of his shoe. I threw the left one back into the car, right beside its mate. They belonged together, and they belonged in the car. We gathered the rest of the stuff and went home. My parents never went to see the car. They did not want to, just wanted to get his stuff from it. It is probably a good thing. I doubt they would have been able to handle it very well. I know I did not.

The week in the ICU ended much as it had began, us in a hopeful vigil, waiting for something good to happen. Unfortunately, other than a healing body, nothing did. Of course, nothing worse happened, so that was a small victory in and of itself.

As the week came to a close, we tried to get life back to some semblance of normalcy, if only to keep ourselves from going insane. The next week, both my father and I went back to work. We had to; neither of us could take the time off. It actually was good in some ways. It helped take our minds off of the waiting. In the evenings we would venture up to see Chuck, saving the better visits for the weekend. My mother and Chuck’s girlfriend would go to the hospital to wait and take care of Chuck anyway they could.

Even in the worst of situations, my mom had to be a mom, just one of the many things that make her special. When he was in the coma, she would talk to him, telling him how much she loved him and wanted him to wake up. She prayed for him, a lot. I believe she probably prayed for the rest of us too, to help us make it through everything. She would ask questions, seeing if there was anything more we could do. One day, she noticed his feet were drying out. The next day, she brought in lotion and rubbed them, so the skin would not damage. I am not quite sure how she found the strength to make it through but she did, and she brought all of us with her. Her strength, love and caring from that time, and how it continues unabated today, still amazes me.

My mom had a mountain of sick and vacation days saved up at work, and she was ready and able to use each and every one of them. She did not know if they would last as long as she needed, but she would go and be there with Chuck until they ran out. Her office was completely understanding, and more than happy to do whatever she needed to allow her the time to be with Chuck. You see, they both worked at Penn State, in the hospitality services department. Everyone in my mom’s office knew Chuck and he knew them as well. They were all struck hard by his accident as well. And while my mom had the accrued time to take off and keep her job and income, Chuck did not. Knowing his plight, everyone in their department, and even from other parts of the university, did one of the most heart felt things I have ever seen. People from all over began donating vacation days to Chuck and my mom, so Chuck could still keep his income and his job, and to my mom so she could focus on helping him get well again. It was one of those unbelievably selfless things you see from time to time that reminds you there are still good people left in the world.

As the second week progressed, Chuck was moved out of the ICU and into a regular room. His overall condition was improving to the point where he did not need the constant attention of the ICU, but he was still in the coma. He was also able to breathe on his own, but still needed oxygen. A small victory, but at least it was a sign he was improving. And by this time, the massive overall swelling had long since subsided, but his physical condition was also deteriorating. While his body was healing itself, it was also wasting away. He was getting nutrients intravenously, but there is nothing that can really stop a broken body from atrophying. Ask anyone who broke an arm how weak it is once they take the cast off. Well, Chuck was like that all over. It looked like he was wasting away. It made everything that much harder. Chuck is a big guy, and somehow his size makes him, at least to me, seem larger than life. But seeing him there, losing weight from doing nothing and becoming skinny and gaunt, made him seem so small and very fragile.

However, there were also some pluses to be had this week. By this time, with a thick sense of hope, we took every odd movement from Chuck as a positive sign. We would see his eyes moving under his eyelids, or fingers twitch or move. Sometimes, the occasional sound or moan would eek out. While they may have been nothing in reality, to us they were everything. Any sign that the Chuck we knew was still in there, all the better. While we always wanted and hoped for even more, for the time, we would take whatever we get. When you are drowning, any life preserver will suffice. And as the week came to a close, we clung hard to that life preserver.

During the third week, we got much more than a life preserver, we finally got a life boat. It was this week when we saw the first real signs of Chuck. The first real signs of Chuck swimming back to the surface. And there were tons of them. At first, it was small things. He would mumble, and a few words would spill out. Sometimes they would come in sentences, as though he was having a conversation with someone, or perhaps with one of us. He would at times open his eyes and look around, focusing on things and people, but not quite registering, just yet, what they were. He moved around a lot. He moved his hands, his arms, his legs, and his body. Not to the point of getting out of bed, mind you, but enough to show us he had the ability to move, and at least on a subconscious level some amount of control of his body. It did look, at least to us, that some of the early movements appeared as though he was trying to open a car door. It made us wonder if part of his mind was still running the accident in his mind, or if he even thought he was still in that day.

Thanks to Chuck in this state, we were all also treated to a genuinely funny and touching moment. One day we were all visiting him, and everyone was in the room. There was also a nurse in there as well, talking with us and answering questions on his condition. During this time, he began speaking again. He said nothing that made any sense, just speaking out loud, perhaps having a conversation with someone in his mind. Now, the funny part was that what he was saying was some raunchy cursing. And when I mean raunchy, I mean the kind of blue streak that would make a sailor blush, and I know this since my dad was a sailor and he was slightly embarrassed. But no one said anything, mainly because we were just happy to be seeing some positive signs. So we continued on, with Chuck cursing in the background. Now, my mother does not care for really foul language. Occasionally she will swear, but her extent of swearing is limited to the occasional damn or hell. So hearing Chuck, even in an unconscious state, cursing to beat the band did not thrill her. Finally, after having heard enough, she looked at him and said Chuck to knock it off, there was mixed company in the room. What happened next made us laugh and know he was going to be fine. He immediately stopped swearing and mumbled sorry mom. Then he was quiet for a while and then went back to resting. After that, we laughed together and all breathed a little easier. We knew Chuck was in there, and that he was on his way back.

After that week, he started coming around more, and each time he was more conscious and aware of things. There was no magical moment like in the movies where he suddenly woke up from the coma. It was a gradual thing, and each day would provide a more lucid, and pain aware, Chuck. He learned fast how to use his call button for some morphine to help with his still healing body. But his mind seemed to be there. One thing that had not changed was his razor sharp tongue, which seemed to be channeling his pain in some ways. It was hard at times, but one thing we had to keep in mind was that as long as he was responding well, then he could say anything he wanted.

I believe that the entire ordeal was harder on him mentally than he ever let on. And I could never blame him for that. How do you deal with waking up in a hospital room hooked up to machines and having metal braces sticking out of your leg, surrounded by family and friends looking at you with tired yet hopeful faces, your body racked with pain and so weak you can barely lift your arms and so disoriented you do not even know what day it is. Those things alone would place a huge mental strain on anyone. Add on top of those things having to deal with what had happened, what was still to come to make a recovery and trying to cope with the fact that you do not remember anything from the last month. It is a lot for one person to handle, no matter how strong they are.

None of this was helped by the fact that by this point, he was physically weak. All the inactivity of being laid up while his body was mending had left him barely able to do anything. He was so gangly and weak, he kind of reminded me of a fawn. All shaky and unsure of his movements, unable to really stand on his own. Luckily for Chuck, or unluckily depending on how you look at it, help with this side affect of the healing process was not far away.

At this point of the recovery, we reached a moment that we feared at one point may never come. One that allowed us to breathe yet again another huge sigh of relief. Chuck was being released from the hospital and sent to a rehabilitation clinic. His injuries were mending to the point where he was ready to work on regaining strength as well as work on regaining his mobility and range of motion in his damaged limbs and his mental agility. The day was fantastic, and it allowed him to be so close to home, only a 20 minute drive from the house. It also allowed us to see him more often and know that an end, and his return home, was in sight.

And while the move to the facility was a joyous moment, it also marked a point for Chuck that required much work, much of it strenuous and discouraging. He had to do exercises to work on regaining strength, to work on rebuilding the range of motion in his elbow, and to basically learn to walk all over again. All of this done in a setting that was filled with people in similar situations to Chuck, and others with a variety of problems and issues that could drive a man mad. Chuck would tell us of some of them, his disdain for them barely concealed. He spoke of one gentleman that just screamed incessantly, over and over. One time he yelled at him to shut up. It only worked briefly, much to Chuck’s chagrin. He also did not think the staff was as caring as the staff at the hospital. They may not have been extra kind; they may have needed to be tougher on him to get him back into shape. Or maybe it was just Chuck’s perception of the place based on his exhaustion, both physical and mental, and his extreme desire to just go home.

I think all of these elements, combined with the mental strain of his hospital stay, plus the strain and toil of the rehabilitation did affect him deeply. He never let on, but you could see it. You could see it in his face whenever one of us would leave. You could see it there even more so later when we would leave the rehabilitation center for the night. You could see it in his eyes if one of us was unable to make it up every day. He needed us so badly there as his support structure, but was never able to vocalize it. But you could see it in what he said and how he would behave. I remember taking him outside once at the rehab center, him in a wheelchair and me pushing him along, two brothers out enjoying a sunny day. But he was miserable then, just so frustrated with his physical condition, how hard it was to get his strength back and relearn simple tasks he had done all his life and how much he hated being there in general. In his mind, he was young, strong and could do anything. But his physical condition, at the moment, told him a very different story. And it was a difficult story for him to follow, and he could not merge who he was in his mind with who he was, at least physically, at the moment. And because of all of this, all he wanted was to be back somewhere where things made sense. All he really wanted at this point was just to go home. He knew he still needed to be there, and telling him such did nothing. He just wanted to be away from everything and back to a comfort zone, back with family and back home. Even though he spent most of July in a coma, as August was winding down, he was fed up with hospitals, doctors, nurses, staff and anything else involving healing and rehabilitation. The whole experience took a massive toll on him mentally as much as it did physically, and is one of the reasons I believe he does not speak much of it today.

But rehab was not all bad. Not only was Chuck rebuilding his strength and relearning to move, but he was also regaining his sense of humor. He often cracked jokes and made us laugh regaling tales of the other patients at the facility. He also cracked wise with each of us, and often ribbed us, and us back with him. It became infectious. And one thing that did not seem affected by everything that had happened was his will and determination. His drive and desire to get himself better and back home pushed him to do things for himself and accelerate his progress. By now he had not shaved in many weeks, but he kept cracking that he liked his beard, and would only shave when he was able to do so himself. Sure it was kind of a joke, but he did mean that. He would shave when he was able to do it himself. And that was how he went about the days. After his first few experiences of someone helping him in the bathroom, he put his mind to making sure he was strong enough to do it himself. He hated the helplessness and humiliation of having to have someone help him. To him, this was not acceptable, nor would it do any longer.

Now while Chuck was working hard to get himself well enough to come home, we were working hard to get the house ready for him. My mom, with all the extra time we had, decided that some home remodeling was in order. We redid my bedroom and Chuck’s bedroom as well; both had fresh coats of paint, new carpet and some new furniture for Chuck. But since he probably would not be able to traverse the steps for a while, we redid the den too. New paint, new carpet and some new furniture were added to make the room as comfortable as possible. The new couch was a sleeper, and to make it usable for the healing boy, an air mattress was purchased to go on top of the bed portion. And the hospital gave us some things to help him out as well, mostly little things, but one that I found hilarious was the portable toilet. They figured with stairs, he might not have the strength to make it up to the bathroom, and would need something close by. I knew Chuck would never use something like this. He would look at that and think it was demeaning. It is not designed to be such, and can be very helpful to those who do not have the strength to make it quickly to proper facilities. But to Chuck, who was still 22 and in his mind as strong and fit as an ox, an item of this nature said something about his current physical state that he would never admit to, nor did he ever. As I predicted, he never used it once. It sat in the laundry room and collected dust until he moved back to his bedroom. Sometimes, it was hard for him to climb the stairs, but never as hard as it would have been for him to use the portable toilet. Eventually, it made its way to the attic, where it sat in darkness and collected more dust and dirt until we threw it out just last year. It made me laugh to send it on its way, and was a poignant reminder of all he overcame.

After much work, the house was ready, we were ready and Chuck was beyond ready. After almost two months, Chuck finally completed the trip he began on June 30th, and came home. It took him far longer than anyone would have guessed, but he made it, and everyone was on cloud nine. We had a small party for him, just a few of his friend came over to hang out, and we got some beer, barbequed a bit and allowed Chuck to sit back on the deck and enjoy the day with friends, family some food and a tall cold one. That he was able to do that was a miracle in and of itself. And everyone there relished the moment, all knowing that while it was not entirely over, as Chuck still had some work ahead of him, everything was going to be ok.

There were still some hard times that followed. Sometimes he had trouble getting in and out of bed as his body was still weak and healing. Sometimes just making it up the stairs was the achievement of the day. Other times he would be absolutely stir crazy just sitting around with very little to do while the rest of us were out at work or on errands. But his strength and will pulled him through the tough times, and we did whatever we could to supplement his strength when he needed it.

He was never cited for the accident, nor did he lose his license. And to this day he does not remember anything that happened that day, or for the month afterward. His mind permanently blocked out the horror and pain of that time, to keep him from experiencing it again. He remembers very little from his hospital stay, mostly his memories of that time are of the end of his time at the hospital, of his time in rehabilitation and of coming home. He lost an entire month of time he cannot recall and another month working himself back to a semblance of health, and mercifully that was all he lost. By mid fall, he was back at work and amazing everyone there at his recovery. And by then he also had a new car and was tearing around, the independent spirit free to roam once again.

Today my brother is doing well, with just a few side affects remaining from the accident. He still has the rods and screws in his legs, and if he’s on his feet for a long time, his legs tire him. He does not have 100% movement in his left elbow, and never will. He has a great deal of movement there, just not quite full extension. It does not hinder him too much, and he never lets it affect whatever he is doing, at least not outwardly. If he is tired, he gets a bit forgetful or loses his train of thought, which is a reminder to all of us of that bruise on his brain. It is a reminder, also, that the bruise could have been much worse. And he still has a scar under his bottom lip from the puncture wound. But I’ll take him, scars and all. He is doing well, and I think a lot of that is owed to the the guidance and love both he and I receive from the great parents we were both blessed with.

He is finding his way in the world, just like the rest of us. Discovering what is important to him, and what matters most in life. He’s doing alright, which is enough for me. As long as he is doing and living, I am happy. While we do not get to spend as much time together as either of us would like, we try to maximize the opportunities we get. Those opportunities will grow soon, and I know we will take advantage of those even more so than now. If he were not here, I do not know how the last 10 years of my life would have unfolded. What I do know is they would be drastically different, and significantly emptier.

To this day, and for the remainder of my days, I will remain grateful to the many people who helped my brother that day, and the many days that followed. To the emergency crews who responded so quickly and worked so hard to save him on the scene, using all of their skills, talents and care. To the life flight crew who were able to get there so fast, and spirit him to critical care facilities with speed and efficiency. To all of the doctors, nurses and staff at Conemaugh hospital who worked so hard that first day in surgery, and in all the subsequent surgeries, and who provided such great care and treatment. To the specialists and staff at Healthsouth who worked hard to help him get his strength back and back on his feet. To the people at Penn State, who through the kindness of their hearts helped make sure my brother, and my mother, were able to take the time needed to heal while keeping their jobs waiting and keeping both of them in income. To the anonymous people who donated the blood that was used to keep him alive. And to the many family and friends of my brother, who sent so many well wishes, good vibes and prayers that it would have been impossible for him not to get better. To my friends, who helped keep me sane. And to my dad, who was such a rock, and my mom, who showed such love, strength and caring that I never thought was possible to come from just one person. I could never say thank you enough to any one of these people for keeping my brother with us.

And with that, I bid you adieu. I am sure there are parts of the story I missed, sometimes time will allow things to slip through the cracks. And I am willing to bet I remembered a few things out of order after that first week. Is it not odd that the most painful memories are also the clearest? But for the most part it is all there. And putting it down in black and white proved to be far more painful than I would have imagined. It amazed me to find that the feelings of the time, of everything we all went through, were so close to the surface. I found myself more than once while writing close to tears, thinking of the pain and anguish of not knowing what would happen, of seeing my brother bruised and broken, of seeing him sad and depressed. I was floored at how elated I found myself in thinking of his first signs of recovery, his first real conversations and of his finally coming home. Recalling everything that happened ten years ago felt at times like they happened ten minutes ago. I would like to tell you more, and one day I may. One day I will tell you more on the amazing life of my little brother. But in the meantime, I need to go and make a very important phone call. I cannot let such an occasion pass without a hearty congratulation.

Looking For Logic Where None Exists

2007-06-29T13:57:00.000-04:00

Lately I have been having trouble with the world. Ok, not lately, but it has stuck in my head a lot recently. I keep trying to find something that makes sense, and keep running into brick walls. Logic has gone out the window, thrown there by stupidity and nonsense. Somewhere we confused too many things, lost our focus on the important items and got too wrapped up in the mundane. Perhaps it has always been this way, and it is merely my perception that is off. If that’s the case, then I’m off to become Jeremiah Johnson, since that seems much simpler and makes more sense. Well, except for the part where he fights with the Native Americans, I can do without that part. But things seem to not make sense anymore. Take a look and see if you agree, or if you think I am nuts.

Why do we obsessively vote for who will win a recording contract and become a TV pitchperson, but could care less in voting for a person who could hold our collective destiny in his or her hands?

Why do some intelligent, rational, caring and responsible people find it difficult to impossible to have children, while someone like Kevin Federline has four?

Why do we lionize and reward those who have athletic prowess, and not those who put their lives in harm’s way for our protection and well being? And on that vein, when did we begin to misuse the word hero, and give that label to the wrong people while taking it away from those who deserve it?

Why do we charge extra in cars, homes and products for the privilege of safety, yet these are things that could benefit everyone? Home security costs are out of reach for most people, yet many live in areas where they need it. Cars with advanced safety features that could save many lives are priced so high, most people cannot afford to purchase these automobiles to keep themselves safe. Why is this ok?

Why do five graduating high school women perish in a senseless car accident, before they ever have a chance to make their mark on the world and add their light to the collective flame, yet someone like Ann Coulter continues to infect the world with hate and vitriol on a daily basis just to sell books and advertising time?

How come we mindlessly obsess on the daily minutiae of the lives of people far less interesting than ourselves, but far more rich and famous, to the point where we ignore the ability and opportunity to live our own lives?

Why are people willing to demean themselves and sacrifice their self respect and dignity just to appear before millions of people for the chance at 15 minutes of fleeting fame or a briefcase full of money?

How can some justify living the good life, when there are millions who barely have enough for a miserable life?

When did we confuse business acumen, fortune and fame with being a successful human being?

How can people justify some of the horrible things they do to others, just to keep their money, power and or fame?

When did “Ask not what your country can do for you, ask what you can do for your country” get replaced with “I feel your pain” and “Mission accomplished”? And why do we find these replacements acceptable?

When did the idea of getting involved and helping become merely writing a check, marking off the deduction and moving on?

Why are the antics and lives of vapid wastes of space like Paris Hilton and Lindsey Lohan endlessly debated, discussed, reported on and given countless hours of media coverage, yet no one talks about real problems like the continued tragedies of New Orleans or Darfur?

Why are some still willing to listen to, and take advice from, someone like Rush Limbaugh, who has proven himself a hypocrite? How can people trust a man who cannot, or will not, stand behind his own words?

Why do we look for role models in those that play games or pretend to be other people for a living, instead of those who take the responsibility to try to mold our young into becoming all they can be?

Or better yet, why do we not look to ourselves to become role models for others any longer?

Mind you, I know life is not fair. Almost everyone will agree and attest to that. This is not about fairness; it is about finding something that makes some sense. We seem to have lost our way on the important things, and have become distracted by the nonsensical much like a small child with a new toy. But much like that child, we eventually become bored, and look for a new toy. And it seems as though there is always someone waiting to provide that new toy, that new distraction, that new nonsensical item to keep us focused on, instead of looking to improve ourselves and our lives. And we are more than willing to stay distracted, and becoming ever more so.

These things are only symptoms of the larger problem, which is us. If we did not focus on them, they would not exist. We allow them to continue as they are, unabated and unchallenged. I know life can be difficult and straining, and having a release or two helps. I also know when we feel down about things, a little schadenfreude can go a long way. But when the releases, distractions and schadenfreude become the focus of our lives instead of living life instead of merely existing and working to make ourselves, our communities, our loved ones and our world better, then maybe we need to step back and begin to reevaluate things, and make some changes.

Perhaps I am nuts and these things do not make sense only to me. Perhaps I need to adjust my antenna and get a better picture. Or maybe I do need to live in the wilderness in peace and quiet, away from the insanity. Of course knowing how things seem to work, eventually I would be labeled a crazy loner and have ATF agents paying me a visit. And if that happened, in our world it would oddly make sense.

I Don't Wanna Grow Up

2007-06-08T15:57:00.001-04:00

Being a grown up, for lack of a better word, sucks. I hate it. Sure, like most anything there are pros that go along with the cons. You can make all the decisions for life, but after a while, that just becomes tedious. Yes, when you are in your early twenties, the freedoms of your social life and how you wish to live can be exhilarating. But as you get older, you compromise or outright sacrifice them for the responsibilities of being an adult. Getting a job to pay for food, shelter, transportation, clothing and all the little things you find you need each day. When you are younger, you tend to worry about these things less, if at all. Now, make sure you take a list with you shopping so you do not forget all the household items you need. And do not be gone long, there are tons of chores to do and you need to get to bed early so you are not late or tired for work the next day. Bah, I say.

I am tired of being an adult. I hate all the nonsense that goes along with it. How did things get so complicated? It seems anymore even the simplest of ideas requires intense planning and forethought. And if you have some major idea for your life, say a job change, move, purchasing a house, planning a wedding or starting a family, forget it. You could find yourself up to your ears in plans, advice and paperwork. I mean, if you own a home, do you know the paperwork and money involved just to get the permits required to make significant changes to your home? Let alone what you need to actually do the work itself. How did things get like this?

I look at things and I wonder, how did we turn our world into these pointless exercises in chasing meaningless goals and goods? When did we get away from reveling in the beauty all around us, and the joy of just living life? When did it become about money, power, fame, riches?

I cannot answer a single one of these questions. I have pondered them all, and have no idea. I am sure it is like most things. The changes came slowly, glacially even. Little things here and there until we were mired in the quagmire of modern life too concerned with money, status, power and consumer goods to really focus on the important things. To be able to look at the world in a carefree way and enjoy what it has to offer and each other.

Well, you know what? Forget it; I do not care to figure it out. I want out; I do not want it anymore. I do not want to worry about money or bills, sending myself into stress induced sickness and premature death. I do not want to compete for biggest spoils, just to say I have the most of everything. I do not want to conquer the world for something to do. I do not want the trappings of being an adult anymore.

I want to play in a stream all day until I am pruny and waterlogged. I want to run up and down hills until my lungs are burning, with my only concern being that the setting sun will end my fun. I want to play games with friends and have sleepovers. I want to make up games with friends. I want to sit by campfires and sing songs while making s’mores. I want to hold hands and walk by a babbling brook, with the sun shining and breezes blowing. I want to sit in a field and stare at the sky, trying to figure out what the clouds look like today. I want to marvel at the wonders of nature, even if it is merely ants scurrying to find food for their queen. I want to enjoy life.

Enough of that, I guess. Now please excuse me, I need to get back to work.

QT Mailbag

2007-05-17T01:59:00.000-04:00

I am so excited to present to you my very first mailbag! I love articles where authors and columnists respond to reader feedback, and always thought it would be so much fun to do the same. I had a job in college where I was able to respond to student feedback, and had a blast doing it. Mind you, we are talking about a group of 18-22 year olds writing in to other 18-22 year olds, so it was mostly a contest to see who could out smart ass the other. I am not sure if the other students had fun, but I sure did, especially since in the format we used, I always got the last word. But I digress.

Although, I have to make a small confession before we start; this really is not a true mailbag feature. I have yet to receive any e-mail reader response for my work. I suppose I do not have the readership level of a Bill Simmons or a Gregg Easterbrook to generate such response from people. Most likely not the talent of those gentlemen either, but that is a debate for another day. Perhaps my, at least imagined, legions of fans are merely quiet or too busy to send in their thoughts regarding my half baked ideas. But on occasion I do receive a comment, and I got one recently that provided some good food for thought.

I wrote an article not long ago with a list of observations. Mostly nonsensical stuff that I saw or thought from day to day that I did not have a full idea to write about, but items that I wished to share. It was one of these items that prompted the response. First, let me share that item to refresh memories and in case you may have missed the piece.

Those dolls that eat the fake food and then mess their diaper and you have to change the doll. I do not get those. Are they really fun to play with, or are they a conditioning tool for girls for later in life?

And now, please read the response from a loyal reader.

Kyler422 wrote: HEY. #1, "Those dolls that eat the fake food and then mess their diaper and you have to change the doll." is a sentence fragment. ALSO! #2, Boy is that a sexist thing to say!!!

First, regarding point #1, I know, it is a sentence fragment. While I have improved upon my grammar skills greatly since beginning this endeavor, I still from time to time flash my grammatical ignorance. There was more than one reason I spent a large portion of my free time a few months ago re-editing previous posts, and right at the top of the list was correcting bad grammar. But considering the cost of subscription for this blog, I’d say everyone is getting their money’s worth.

Moving on, and gaining more than an ounce of seriousness, to point #2, Kyler422 makes an excellent point and raises a more than a few questions. Is this a sexist remark? It very well could be. I am a man, and do view things from a male perspective. Just because I do not understand the doll or the point of said doll does not make it bad or wrong. Also, even though I may prefer to enjoy toys centering around fictional worlds and imaginary space battles, that does not mean I should demean or look poorly upon toys that fall outside of this realm. Toys such as this doll, which requires care and attention, could go a long way toward fostering an environment of caring and responsibility, something my Darth Vader action figure never could. My own perspectives could lead me toward a lack of understanding toward the experiences of others. Plus, never having been a young girl, I do not have any basis for what a young girl may enjoy or like. But pondering this, I have come up with a few questions of my own.

My first question came when thinking about the doll itself and those who manufacture them. I began to wonder if the behavior of the toy companies were sexist in how they operate. After all, the doll teaches how to care for an infant and is marketed directly to girls. As I did some research into the doll, I found an interesting factoid regarding two companies that make such dolls. Neither seem to have much female representation in their upper echelon, which makes me wonder if they have a proper perspective in the first place when creating toys for girls.

Zapf Creation makes a doll called New Baby Born, which falls into the category of these dolls. They work in conjunction with MGA Entertainment, which lists the doll as part of their product line. The CEO of MGA is a gentleman who also sits on the board for Zapf Creation. Zapf’s entire board in actuality is an all male board. Yet their entire product line represented on their website is geared toward girls, including one product called My Model, where the child playing with the toy can experiment with different fashion looks.

Hasbro also makes a version of the doll, calling theirs Baby Alive. Hasbro touts on the page for the doll all of the awards it has won, including the NAPPA Awards Honors Family Fun Grand Prize Winner & Top 10 list (#5) and the Creative Child Magazine Seal of Excellence Award in the Dolls for Preschoolers Category. The president and CEO of Hasbro is also a man, as are 10 members of their 12 person board of directors. And just to point out an annoying item, finding out who is actually running Hasbro from their website is a bit difficult. For some reason, they have the information buried under several layers of web pages and it took a bit of sleuthing to find out who exactly is in charge over there. Makes me wonder if it the site is badly designed, or carefully constructed.

These two companies seem to have a heavy male influence in charge of the direction of their companies, and simultaneously on toys marketed and sold to girls. If my point of view regarding this doll is sexist for merely being from a male perspective, a hypothetical point and one which I am not dismissing as possible, then possibly these gentlemen could be hamstrung by the same problem. And they are in charge of creating toys for children.

But while looking at the toy companies, and perusing their product lines for both boys and girls, a few other questions rose to the surface. Is it not more sexist for these companies to market the dolls only to girls and not both girls and boys? If the dolls are as good as advertised and award winning, then should not boys get the benefit of learning and growing from them as well? Should not young boys learn the importance of caring for a child? Should they not have the opportunity to see all the different paths available to them in their life? Should we not encourage them that they can be child care professionals? After all, we could always use a few more caring and responsible men around.

And conversely, should we not encourage young girls that they can be scientists or politicians or race car drivers? Should not any child, either male or female, have the opportunity to explore all avenues of life, especially those traditionally reserved for the opposite gender? Cannot a little girl wish to strategize and plan corporate takeovers? Cannot a little boy wish to care for and nurture a child?

Many strong and brave women have struggled and fought, and continue to struggle and fight, for true equality between the sexes in this country and around the world. And while there has been many inroads made, the truth is there is still a divide between the genders. While now in our society we regularly see women in positions of power and influence, they are not as numerous as they could or should be. The Hasbro board of directors is a perfect example of this. If a company is making toys for both girls and boys, should there not be equal representation of each gender on their board?

My original thought behind the observation was to point out something that struck me upon seeing the advertisements for the doll. The commercials for the product all show little girls doing a variety of motherly activities with the doll. I wondered if these activities really were fun for children, and whether it was limiting for girls to be playing with toys that placed them only in traditional female roles. Is it not rather presumptuous, and potentially sexist, to put the onus of the role of motherhood upon young girls before they have grown up and are able to make decisions on their own about what they want to do with their lives? If they wish to be mothers or corporate leaders or astronauts, should we not give them the choice to decide which path, or paths, are best for them? Should we not give them every opportunity to show them all of the paths they can choose?

Another thought popped into my head as I perused the product lines of a few of these companies, all of which are divided into sections dedicated to either boys or girls. Which is more sexist, my half baked question regarding a doll that allows little girls to be pretend mothers, or companies that market items like strategy games to boys and toy ovens and pretend babies to girls? Should not all toys be marketed to both, potentially opening up creative ideas and paths to children of both genders? Mind you, I am not accusing anyone of anything, just merely raising a few questions that came up while pondering the issue. I told you the response provided some good food for thought.

Anyways, most kids when they go to a toy store automatically gravitate toward sections that appeal to them, so ultimately the consumer decides what they want, and companies will happily comply to keep the tills ringing. And most little boys would run in holy terror if you tried to ply a Barbie on them, and the same for little girls if you plopped a Transformer in their lap. Not all for either gender, mind you, but most.

But I think it is a good idea to expose kids to things outside their norm from time to time. Let them see things from a new perspective and allow them to expand their horizons. Me, I think great toys for boys and girls, and ones I like to get for youngsters, are Legos or Lincoln Logs. Both are fun, inspire creativity and not particularly gender specific. Well, maybe the pirate ship Lego set is gender specific. Ok, and a few other sets as well. Forget it; everyone is getting a super ball and a sketch pad from now on.

I hope you enjoyed the first mailbag, I know I did. And a big thank you to Kyler422 for the great comment and inspiring this first offering. And yes, that last sentence is a fragment, I already know.

Its Not My Fault

2007-05-15T17:22:00.000-04:00

Today I am contemplating the disappearance of personal responsibility. After watching television the other evening, with news that covered the gamut of culture, from Former CIA Director George Tenet admitting in a book that the US was pushed into war without just cause to Paris Hilton’s legal trouble, I came to one inescapable conclusion. Personal responsibility no longer exists, and from what I have been seeing lately, has been missing for quite some time. But exactly where has it gone?

Avoiding trouble is something we all do. I can recall from my recent past an example where I pulled a prank on a friend, at the time thinking it was the funniest thing in the world. A few too many cocktails will do that to you. But the next day, when he called me on it, at first I tried to play it off, as though I had no idea of what he was speaking. I was still in joking mode and found that even funnier. But after a few minutes of joshing back and forth I relented and admitted guilt, and offered to make up for it. He graciously declined and admitted he had a good laugh about it later, though not at the time. But I knew he would discover it was me, and had no problem admitting fault or my own part in the prank. I felt the need to be responsible for my actions. Because of that, we are better friends today. But that need to take responsibility for ones actions seemingly no longer exists.

Either due to fear of punishment, loss of reputation or pure ego, many no longer see the need to stand up and own their actions, to admit fault or be responsible for what they do. This concept is slowly driving me mad. I really cannot stand when people cannot admit that they are wrong, and just take a tack of arguing and indignant shock in the face of a mountain of evidence that their actions or behavior is wrong. I cannot understand this line of thinking that permeates throughout society. What is the big deal about admitting you are wrong? Why is this concept, and that of personal responsibility, so foreign in our society? Is it because failing or admitting fault is looked upon as a sign of weakness? Is it ego driven, where one will not allow themselves to admit their wrong, because their narcissistic tendencies will not be able to handle the fact that their actions or decisions were off? Or is it merely another example of life imitating art?

It is not difficult to see where this behavior comes from when all anyone has to do is turn on the television to see a myriad of people refusing to take responsibility. Tenet illustrates this trend in politics with his admissions regarding the war we are currently fighting. Sure, he looks big now for spilling the beans on something that has long been suspected, but if that is true, why did he do nothing about it at the time? If he feels so strongly about such things, why did he not blow a whistle or raise a red flag when it could have made a difference? Mind you, he is not taking any responsibility for doing nothing then, merely working now to sell books.

Follow that up with a stunningly sad and unbelievably aggravating example from the world of celebrity with the attention hound Paris Hilton and her latest escapades with the law. After getting busted, for a second time, for driving with a suspended sentence, the law finally flexed their muscle and sentenced her to 45 days in the clink. And even in the face of her actions and flaunting of the law, she is pleading for a pardon from the governor of California. She has done wrong, broke the law on multiple occasions and now she is being called to the carpet for her behavior, she still does not get that her wealth and privilege to not justify her behavior. Even worse is the nonsense her mother spews about the conviction being disgusting. If I may take a moment here to address the elder Hilton directly, I would like to impart that what is truly disgusting about this situation is the child you raised, or more probably paid someone to raise, behaving in such a manner. And on top of that, the more disgusting nature of the situation is you apologizing and defending her actions. Thank you. The Elder Hilton does not care about her child’s behavior as long as it continues to generate publicity and fame. As long as her behavior does that, and she can gloom some of that fame and therefore she is fine with whatever Paris does. Someone like Paris, who flaunts her wealth and fame and creates an atmosphere where stupidity and whoredom are lionized, should not be looked upon fondly. She should be ignored and shunned by society for providing absolutely nothing for the common good. And yet we cannot turn away.

Perhaps the sporting world can provide better. Alas, that is not to be thanks to the saga of one Pacman Jones, who has been arrested or questioned by police 10 times on 10 different incidents, all in the span of one calendar year. Rightfully the league suspended Mr. Jones for his behavior, but why? Why should they suspend him for his actions? Jones is now attempting to reduce the suspension, complaining that the punishment is too harsh, and should be lessened. Why I ask? He became embroiled in police investigations, a few of which have not been closed and may still bring punishment to him. If these things had been done by regular people who are not rich or famous, they would be spending far more than 45 days in jail and would have been fired from their job as opposed to merely suspended.

People look at examples such as this and begin to feel emboldened in dismissing responsibility for themselves. The attitude of, if they can get away with it, why can’t I fosters and grows. The more others see people being excused or, in some cases, even rewarded for poor behavior and lack of accountability only allows this behavior to spread like wildfire. No longer are actions put upon the shoulders of those who committed them, but on someone, or something else. Blame is shifted and distributed to a myriad of people and reasons, except for the one place is should be, on the perpetrator of the actions.

Seemingly, the only time people tend to take responsibility anymore is for a success. When that happens, out from the woodwork people will pour to claim responsibility, whether they had anything to do with said success or not. That matters not, as long as the accolades and awards keep flowing.

Perhaps I am over simplifying this issue. Or perhaps I am overstating the scope of the problem. I know there are good people out there who stand up when it matters and say; yes I am the one responsible. Unfortunately, they do not get the press or exposure they deserve and we need to see. And because of this, it just seems that fewer and fewer people have the ability, or desire, to stand. We need more people to stand, and walk for that matter. We need them to organize a search party for personal responsibility and soon. If we do not, then we may all be in trouble. Well, not me, I had nothing to do with it.

Fighting Against The World

2007-05-10T16:08:00.001-04:00

During the constant work of trying to better myself and figure out what I am supposed to be doing with this life, I have discovered a few things out about myself. I am not a guy who asks for receipts when donating items to Goodwill. Nor am I one to quibble over dollars when splitting the bill at a large dinner. Neither am I a guy who gives a line item invoice for every bit of work done at a job. These things are neither noble nor stupid, just who I am. And because of these things, I have come to realize I will never be the guy on top. Sure, I may win a small battle here or there, and on occasion come out on top of a small molehill, but never on top of a mountain. I find that for the most part, I am fine with this realization.

I never wanted to be the type of person who values wealth and material goods over the more important things in life such as family, friendships and the betterment of humankind. I would rather be a good person and try to do the right things by myself and my fellow citizens of planet Earth. But I find it harder to live life like this in a world where materialism and wealth are valued over anything else. A world where the only way to get ahead is to be a shark, to be one who pursues such things with a vengeance leaving a wake of debris consisting of people and hope behind them. To be the type of person who will crush anyone and anything to get what they want. I do not want to be like that. I do not value money for what it is, but merely what it can provide, shelter food and essentials. But that kind of thinking seems to be antiquaited. I do not want to make money to have it, but to be able to provide for those I love and if possible help out those less fortunate. If I can do well, then perhaps I can better take care of them, make their lives easier and give a little hope to those who may no longer have any hope.

But it is becoming increasingly difficult to maintain this ideal of life. Everywhere I turn lately there have been constant reminders of the things I am missing out on because I do not wish to do whatever it takes to get a bigger piece of the pie, to make the sacrifices of life, happiness or love. Others my age have moved on in their lives and are marrying, purchasing homes and starting families. People are retiring early and enjoying the spoils of life. Also lately I have been reminded of the darker paths of where this ideal of mine can lead. I see people working far past retirement age, unable to lose the income their jobs bring in. They struggle on, not knowing when they might be able to stop, and knowing the precious moments of their life is quickly slipping by. I see these two disparate paths, knowing I do not want to give up who I am to get the one, but unsure of how to not end up the other without becoming someone I do not want to be. I know this is not a singular feeling, nor does it make me unique in any way. I know there are others like me out there who feel the same way and just unsure of what to do next.

The problem as I define it is that if you do not worship at the altar of the dollar, you get nowhere. The world now operates in a way where everyone is trying to grab a bigger piece of the pie. The more you have the better. But still even that is not good enough. And people, governments and corporations have no qualms, issues or problems with destroying anyone or anything in their path to get more of said proverbial pie. People who have worked hard all their lives and played by the rules more and more are finding themselves struggling to make ends meet. Loyalty and hard work mean nothing. All that matters is the bottom line. For example Hershey, a company that built a town and community and has existed in the lives of many people for generations, is now moving all their plants to Mexico for cheaper labor and costs. Meanwhile thousands of loyal people, many who have worked for the company for years, suddenly will find themselves out of work with no prospects, existing in a town that will quickly die as its main employer pulls away. Is this really how we should be? Is a few extra dollars more important than the well being of our fellow brothers and sisters? I heard a story recently that made me sick and angry and wishing to scream in rage all at the same time. A person I know was feeling sick, but had to keep working because she needs to do well at her job to keep her income and a semblance of job stability. This person met with a client for lunch and did not eat due to feeling increasingly sick, but continued the lunch meeting regardless. After lunch, she threw up on the way back to the office. Knowing all the work still in front of her, she returned to the office and stayed at work for the remainder of the day, continuing to work through sickness and occasional vomiting while superiors would come in to request things. These supervisors knew she was sick; they could see with visual evidence that she was sick, but to them that was of no concern. Only what they needed to continue working and striving for a better bottom line was of concern. Not once did anyone say, perhaps you should go home. Not once did anyone show any concern to her physical well being. This kind of behavior is unconscionable. How can a person live with themselves if they were to witness this woman struggling to work while ill and not send her home? She could not just leave, since she is already concerned about job security, yet no one gave a damn about her well being enough to step in and do the right thing and send her home. Shamefully, sadly, frighteningly I know for her this is not an isolated incident, and I fear her story is not a unique one. Humanity and decency no longer have a place in our workplaces or even society. They have been removed to make room to build bigger coffers for those with too much already to fill the old ones.

So everyone keeps busy by worshipping the dollar, and those who have it want more, and those who do not are willing to do anything to get it. And more and more, those without are resorting to means beyond the law to obtain it. There are reports from Greensburg Kansas, at the scene of massive tornado devastation where off duty guardsmen were caught stealing from damaged stores and people disguised as Red Cross workers looting destroyed homes. And these are but a few recent incidents in a long sad line of examples. The most striking recent example may still be the bedlam that became New Orleans after Katrina. But this behavior says two things to me. One, these people are at the ends of their rope and desperate to do anything to get something from this world. And two, they are the lowest of the low to steal from those who have nothing.

But what do you expect from people when the same example is set by those in authority and power? Regularly we see politicians in power manipulating prices with taxes and product restrictions, men and women who profit from these actions in an obvious conflict of interest. Televangelists bilk people out of their savings, using a smooth delivery and religion and faith as their tools for extortion. Companies suspend or discontinue health care plans and pension plans, claiming the need to save money. Yet in the same breath they vote to give their highest level executives massive raises for their efforts. Sports stars will refuse to work, demanding a raise while forgetting the fact that what they make in a week is more than most make in a year. If most people refused to work in an effort to get a raise, they would be spending the next day working on their resume and cleaning out their desks.

But that is what governments at all levels, corporations and even individuals do on a regular basis, take from those without. Taxes, gas prices, increased food prices, inflated costs of purchasing a home, high costs to rent and merely living are all examples of people in power and wealth pick pocketing those who have neither for their own personal gain. People need food, shelter, fuel and the essentials to live, and those in charge and power know it. So they tax those things or raise the prices and adopt a stance of take it or leave it with no concern as to how it may affect the lives of others. Their only concern is that they get that bigger piece of pie and improve the bottom line. Governments mandate a percentage of tax on gasoline and goods, because people need and want them and the tax fills their coffers. The only difference between what they do and what those in Greensburg did is legality. Looting is illegal, heavy taxation and rising prices have been made legal, thanks to those wishing for more of the pie.

Now, I am not saying that working hard and earning money is a bad thing. If you are able to grab a slice of the pie, provide yourself and family with a better situation and improve your station in live by all means do it and with gusto. But wealth in and of itself should not be a sole goal. Having and acquiring wealth for the sake of it is an empty and shallow pursuit that ultimately leads to no end. Not a good or bad end, just no end since once you leave this mortal coil, all that you have acquired does absolutely nothing for you. So why not do something worthwhile with it while you are here? Besides, it is what wealth and money can provide that is important, and one of the most important things it should provide is the opportunity to help your fellow man. Unfortunately, most with wealth would rather stomp on a puppy than share their acquired fortune with anyone. And even if they do share, or give something back to communities or the less fortunate, it typically is only when it benefits them. Have you ever heard of someone donating a large sum of money just for the hell of it? Neither have I. Whether it is for publicity, a backroom favor, preferential treatment or, most commonly, a nice big tax break, philanthropy for merely the sake of doing good is dying. A pathetic, sad and mostly likely common example I witnessed the last time I dropped off some items at Goodwill. I never ask for a receipt when I drop stuff off there. I do not need the items any longer; I just want to see them possibly get into the hands of someone who can use them. I already received my money’s worth and use out of them, why should I ask for more when I give them away to help others? Perhaps it is my inability to accept this concept that allows me to stay poor, but I digress. But whenever I go, I always see others asking for receipts. Not that I hold this against anyone, after all that is their choice. But when last I went, I waited behind a woman who was requesting a receipt for an old, used cat bed she was donating. It made me shake my head, literally, as I waited. Why would she think anyone would want some old, crappy cat bed, and was the receipt for what I can only imagine would be a minimal amount really worth her, and ultimately my, time? No, I doubt it. But everyone needs an angle, and no one seemingly does any good without demanding a reward.

Many times, those with wealth or a taste of the pie are merely oblivious to the plight of those around them. Their focus is so set on their own goals and striving for more they develop a tunnel vision, not only unwilling but now unable to see how those around them are struggling to merely keep a roof over their heads. This can be far worse than a callous outlook, as these people may have the heart to help, just no longer the vision to see it.

Unfortunately, it can be quite easy to ignore those in plight. There are many people out there that seem to have just given up on life. We see these people everyday, looking for scraps of food and shelter, drifting through the world aimlessly with shell shocked expressions permanently etched on their weathered faces. These are the people that need help the most, not merely financial help or food or shelter, but help in finding a will to try again. But since they no longer possess any desire, seemingly, to work to get out of their situations, many people find it quite easy to write them off as nothing more than bums or vagrants and a plight on society. We all ignore them, only acknowledging their existence from afar with charitable donations to soup kitchens. We distance ourselves from them, avoiding any contact with them, but feeling self righteous with a nice tax deductible donation as opposed to truly helping. Why lend a hand to someone who cares not to even try to stand on their own feet? It becomes easy to marginalize a person when you no longer look upon them in human terms, or have any contact with them and know nothing about their lives.

But what about those who do try? What about those who we do know and see as humans and people and parts of communities? What about the family living paycheck to paycheck who suddenly they find themselves homeless thanks to a natural disaster? What about the man who is killed by a thief, leaving his struggling wife to cope with the loss of her beloved, their children and the loss of income that now has nowhere to turn? What about the people who try to improve their station, but find themselves shafted by a closing factory or business moving operations, and now they are left with few options, mounting bills and impending eviction? These are not people who do not care any longer. These are not people who no longer try. These are people who play by the rules, strive to create a life out of this world the best way they can and yet these are also the people that get screwed the worst. You cannot ignore these people. They are everywhere. They are your neighbors, friends and coworkers. People who while attempting to make their own way get hit by a few bad breaks and suddenly find themselves on the brink of ruin with no hope or way out. People who believe that living a good life does not necessarily mean driving a million dollar car or having a 100 acre property on which to vacation. To them it means treating others as you would yourself, lending a hand to those who need it and following the rules. Unfortunately, those with that mindset are never rewarded for being the backbone of society; usually they are merely looked upon with disdain. They are everywhere, and if you can ignore their plight as they are squeezed out, then what does that say about you? If you can continue to focus solely upon your own good fortune while these people rapidly fall through the cracks of society, how can you look upon anything you have with any pride or satisfaction? As I said, these are not people who have given up; these are those who are just used until their worth is expired and discarded. They are the rapidly shrinking middle class. They are the class of people who are being further pushed into poverty, homelessness and ruin. They do not make enough to find any sort of stability, financial independence or to just break even, but they make far too much to ever get any sort of help or assistance. And you know them.

Those striving for a bigger piece of the pie continue to take more and more from people with progressively less and less, and a breaking point will eventually come and it will not be pretty. There will always be a contingent of people that will attempt to get something for nothing, to just merely take what they feel they are entitled to or deserve. This has been the case since the beginning of time, and will most likely remain the same until the end of time. But as more and more people who live good lives, try to do the right thing and play by the rules increasingly find themselves in rapidly deteriorating situations and become more desperate not to get ahead, but to merely keep themselves from losing their homes and possessions, their frustration and hopelessness will mount until they can take no more. And the ranks of people fitting this description, those who live paycheck to paycheck barely able to keep their heads above water let alone find any semblance of financial security, are rapidly growing. People that have no safety net, financial stability or at times reliable medical care that are finding it harder and harder to maintain as things they need are pushed out of their reach and things they have are slowly being taken away from them. When it comes to financial straits, personal issues or career problems, there is never an easy way out. But increasingly for many there is no way out. People generally can only take so much before they break, and many people are showing cracks in their personal foundations.

Our priorities seem to be skewed in the wrong direction. The need and desire for wealth and the good life has replaced any drive we once had as a society to better not only our personal stations in life, but the lives of those around us and the world at large. Time, energy and resources would rather be expended on the acquisition of material wealth than the pursuit of a better world. My biggest fear is that the only way to provide for those I love will be to do whatever it takes to chase down and grabbing every last dollar I can. Not to get ahead, but to merely keep myself and those I love off the street. That to keep them from becoming another sad statistic of families sent out into the cold, I must surrender what I feel is right and become one who looks to the altar of the dollar for the answers. If ever I want to help others, I fear I must give up who I am. Unfortunately, it seems in this world that really is the only way to survive.

Sadness and Tragedy

2007-04-18T18:07:00.001-04:00

Sometimes it takes an act of terror to put life into perspective. Unfortunately, we got that act Monday with the horrific events that unfolded at Virginia Tech University. Since details are still being unearthed and clues and motives are still yet to be uncovered, I do not wish to speculate or rehash the events that transpired. We all know them, as they are continuing to break, and we have become riveted as they unfold. I wish to say but a few words regarding this tragedy. First, I wish to send my condolences to the friends, family and loved ones of those who died. I cannot imagine your pain, and I hope you are able to find comfort in this dark time. I also wish to send well wishes to those who survived, and an urging to seek help. Not just medical, but psychological help as well. An event such as this can leave wounds on the psyche that can take years to heal, and the sooner help is received, the better the chance of recovery. Please find someone to talk with about what happened and begin the healing process. I urge Virginia Tech to do whatever it takes to make this help available to any who seek it. Help out those under your care as soon as you can. And I hope that those wounded all pull through and survive; we do not wish to see any more added to the already unspeakably high death toll.

Now that the original shock has worn off, the talking heads have already begun the second guessing and cries of why did this happen. Without starting in on them too much, I must say that no one knows why. Why would one person snap to the point of mass murder? Why would what they perceive as ills of society drive them on a killing spree? Many have started talking about gun control, warning signs and how to prevent such things in the future, but how? How do you really stop one nut who snaps and has his mind hardwired in the wrong way? How do you stop a person like this with a plan and a mission? You cannot, with any assurance, stop them without taking away the personal freedoms of everyone. Unless we are all monitored and watched, you cannot stop someone from snapping. We live in a country with over 300 million people, and there are bound to be more nuts like this guy amongst them. The problem is, many times we never know who they are until they snap and commit unspeakable acts. All we can do is look for signs and attempt to steer these individuals toward professionals that can help them. That is the only real thing we can do, help each other. If you feel someone may be having a multitude of problems that could lead to something of this nature, talk with them. Reach out and urge them to seek help to speak about their problems. Talk to professionals and get them in contact with those who you feel may be at risk. Get involved and help, solve the problem before it becomes one. Otherwise, the other option is that we will all be subjected to searches, incarceration and constant questioning as we attempt to live our lives in constant fear and suspicion of everyone around us. And that would cause far more problems that it would solve.

And to those nuts out there like this guy, if you feel life is too much to handle, that things are too tough or there are too many spoiled rich kids or too much debauchery in the world please take this advice. When you feel like you are going to snap and kill, please start with the jag off you see in the mirror and keep your toll at a nice safe 1. Why do these slime balls always feel the need to take others out, people that have done nothing to incur this wrath? And why are they always so cowardly that they kill themselves, unwilling to face the punishment for what they have done? Of course, the more I think of it, the better it probably is that he killed himself. For there is no punishment I can think of that would be appropriate enough for him. Nothing harsh enough, painful enough, humiliating enough or devastating enough to put him through the kind of terror, fear and pain as he put those people through, and continues to put many of the survivors through.

This is going to leave all of us with far more questions than answers and a torrent of emotions from terror and fear to sadness and grief as well as anger and rage. Unlike most of us, I have no idea what the answers are and am desperately trying to find some. But I do hope that we all are somehow able to find some peace and comfort in this time and to find joy, as difficult as that may seem right now, that we are able to go on, and live life. We should all live each day like it was a precious commodity. Because in this world, it really is.

If I Knew How To Live A Life

2007-04-14T05:52:00.000-04:00

Since the beginning of the year, I have felt an odd sort of anxiousness. A sort of unease or foreboding that permeates my being. It started not long after the turn of the calendar, and has continued unabated to date. It ebbs and flows from almost nothing more than an undercurrent to something as powerful as a hurricane. No matter what I do, I cannot shake it. Just when I feel perhaps it has gone away, it comes back. I have spent far too long in my own head trying to determine why, but I have. I am in conflict with myself. Who I want to be is fighting who I no longer want to be, and it is leaving me stalled in neutral on the road of life.

I have reached a crossroads, and I have been staring down the different paths of life for far longer than I should have. I keep looking at paths past and seeing the mistakes, failures and missed opportunities that lie discarded, not wanting to repeat any of them. I turn and look at the future paths that hold a gleam of hope and promise, yet I make no move toward any of them. I hesitate to take a step forward for fear of making the wrong choice, the wrong step, the wrong move. I want to make the right call, but I have no idea how to do such. I spin myself in circles of doubt and insecurity, completely rudderless, unable and partially unwilling to change direction.

There are times I wish life came with a manual, to help us in situations such as this. But as I discovered long ago, you write that manual as you go along, and you write it in pencil.

I am tired of rejection and bouncing around. I need a path, a direction, a purpose. Yet I find myself not working to find or to even clear a path as I should. With the level of frustration I feel, I should work as though a man possessed, but I work as though time has no meaning. Why is that? Why do I move so cautiously at finding a path? I hold onto this fear of who I could be with the desperation of a child clinging to a security blanket. But why? Why do I fear who I could be? Why do I not embrace the possibilities? Why do I hold onto yet another piece of who I no longer want to be knowing how it is affecting who I wish to be?

I look at the world around me and see others moving forward with surety and confidence. Even if it is merely a front, it is working. They are accomplishing and achieving goals they set forth for themselves. Yet I sit idle, conflicted and scared. The longer I sit, the more time slips by wasted and lost.

I feel the pressure of time. It slips by unabated, not bothering to wait for me to grasp my place in the world or clear my confusion. I feel the longer I sit in indecision, the faster time is running out for me to do anything. If I do not make a decision soon, if I do not make an attempt at something and fast, it will be too late for anything.

I have an opportunity in front of me that could be everything I want. It could revive dreams of old and shape me into not only who I want to be, but into someone who could make a positive impact on the world around me. But I find myself scared to try.

I find myself in a paradox of fear. I fear failure. Of starting down a path, of working to achieve a dream yet to find I am not good enough, do not have the intelligence, talent, creativity or skills to be anything more than a phony with delusions of grandeur. Yet I also fear success. What if I traverse the path and find success? Would it be me, or would it have just have been luck? Would I be able to repeat it, or be exposed as a fraud, only to find myself back where I am now, with nothing but dashed hopes once again littering my path.

Being caught in this paradox assures me of only one thing, I will never find any success. By doing nothing I will remain in the shadows of doubt and fear, constantly harassed by the demons that relentlessly hammer at my confidence in myself, my creativity and my intelligence. They infect my soul with self doubt and shred my esteem, reducing it to ribbons. They remain with me, representing yet another front in the battle of who I want to be versus who I no longer wish to be. Much like the other pieces I struggle to jettison.

Yet despite my awareness of what indecision will bring, despite knowing the doubt, fear and insecurity are merely demons working to derail me from moving forward, despite knowing the only life worth having is a life lived, I still stare at the crossroads bogged down in confusion. I find myself hamstrung by my own mind, the powers of which have mired me in a paralysis of analysis.

I have always been told that I was very smart. I have heard that intelligence is at a very high level, it is a gift and that makes me special. And with this intelligence, I could go anywhere and do anything. But the older I get, the same questions keeps ringing through my head. How smart am I really? Has this big brain ever gotten me anywhere special? Has it provided me with anything more than anyone with “average” intelligence? What have I done with it? Have I changed the world for the better in any way? Have I used any of this intelligence I supposedly have for any sort of good or positive change?

If I really do have a gift, then I am wasting it, and wasting time.

I am sick of not knowing what to do, unsure of what to be, but I feel powerless to change any of it. Indecisive and scared are the words of the day, and that day is everyday.

I feel like a screw up that keeps screwing up. I keep turning in different directions to change things, yet I keep finding the same wrong paths and choices no matter which way I turn.

Why is it I can see the problems, the steps to solve them and the paths on the horizon, yet I am powerless to do anything? Why cannot I eradicate the demons I no longer want in me? Why are the desires of who I wish to be not strong enough to defeat them?

I fear I will end up yet another sad example of unfulfilled promise and potential. Ask anyone, that is the most pathetic of lives.

Random Observations

2007-04-11T14:23:00.000-04:00

While bouncing around from day to day, I find myself noticing a few things about our society. I tend to jot these down either as something of note or in hopes of writing a long piece about said observation. Oftentimes, many of these are short observations and do not have enough substance by themselves to support their own post. But I keep them around just the same, since you never know what you may do with them. However, I have collected quite a few, and I thought it would be a fun idea to just throw out a potpourri of these random thoughts and observations. Some are funny, some annoying and a few have actual import. So peruse through them, have a laugh and enjoy.

There seems to me to be an inordinate amount of ads and commercials lately for sleep aids. Many have a litany of rather unappealing side affects. It seems we may not need so many ways to help us fall asleep, if we just stopped drinking a gallon each of coffee and energy drinks a day.

And speaking of coffee, there is a coffee on the market for those with sensitive stomachs. If your stomach is that sensitive, maybe you shouldn't be drinking coffee. And did anyone ever stop to think that maybe their stomach got into that situation from drinking too much coffee?

Cigarettes are bad for you, highly addictive and can cause a multitude of long term problems and lead to early death. However, the real addiction problem that is going unchecked in this country, and one no one will talk about, is Starbucks and coffee in general.

If a period piece, fantasy or science fiction film has a modern music soundtrack with rock or pop songs, even if they just appear in the trailers, the movie will suck.

Quippy one liners in movie trailers = bad film, especially if it is an action film.

I loved the movie Disturbia, when it was called Rear Window.

If an action/adventure or science fiction/comic book film is released early in the year, chances are no one who made the movie has faith it could compete over the summer, and it probably sucks.

Those dolls that eat the fake food and then mess their diaper and you have to change the doll. I do not get those. Are they really fun to play with, or are they a conditioning tool for girls for later in life?

Now that the furor has died down, a small note on the entire Anna Nicole Smith debacle. No one involved in that entire ordeal, and I mean no one, ever gave a damn about Anna, nor do they give a damn about her daughter. Everyone, from Howard K. Stern to that nimrod Prince, her mother, the supposed father, the judge, the lawyers, the news media, the tabloid media and everyone else in between quickly forgot that there was an actual human being involved in this story. All they saw was publicity, fame and money. Anna was a troubled human being who only managed to gleam onto people who never saw her as a person, they only saw her as a meal ticket and stepping stone to fame. Every single person involved in this travesty should be utterly ashamed of themselves, but unfortunately they are not. This entire situation, to me, represented the very worst of our culture. The money grubbing, attention seeking, sensationalized parts of our society that we try to deny are there, or feel above, yet soak up like we are all sponges and this is one more big spill. And like a good sponge, we never seem to be satiated.

This idea is quickly devolving into a Larry King column, I fear.

Adam Sandler's appeal – He plays the same character, with slight variations, in every movie. Although, I am willing to give his latest foray into drama the benefit of the doubt.

Paris Hilton's appeal - sure she's rich, but she is not that attractive, she is dumb as a post and had done absolutely nothing of any consequence to garner her fame or fortune. And it is doubtful that if you took away the money and the fame that she would be able to survive.

Cameron Diaz's appeal – The last time she looked attractive was in The Mask. Since then she seems more interested in keeping herself at a weight where we can discern her skeletal structure. That's a long time to be running on one trick. Nor is she that funny, either.

Aqua Teen Hunger Force – Sure, it is mildly amusing, but I have trouble seeing where the great appeal is found. I think I have to be high to get it, although I know a few cats who vehemently disagree with me.

Angelina Jolie – Yes, she does have an appealing body, and her work with the UN is to be commended. Very few celebrities use their fame for the betterment of the world. But she just seems to have this skanky vibe to her, and I think I may be one of the only few who feels this way. Plus, what is with the world wide adoption? Sure, those kids will definitely have a better life than they had before she adopted them. But with her constant global hopping for causes and filming, will those kids ever have an actual mother?

Not too long ago, I saw a commercial for an episode of Dr. 90210 on E!, the reality program centering around a plastic surgeon in Beverly Hills. This episode focused on a couple who were there to have surgery for saggy balls for the gentleman and droopy labium for the lady, if those adjectives can really describe the pair. What is wrong with you when your biggest concerns in the world are about the appearance of body parts that the only people who should be seeing such things are yourself and your partner? If that is all you have to worry about, and spend your money on, you really need to get out, get a pulse on reality and the outside world, and find something far more productive to do with your time, money and those last two brain cells you keep harboring. But I believe the next episode featured the pair removing those pesky brain cells that kept itching inside their heads.

There are only two types of employees at Subway. Those that throw together your sandwich with the accuracy of a kindergartener coloring between the lines, and with an identical attention span, or those who take the term “Sandwich Artist” far too literally.

The Nintendo Wii is one of the most amazing pieces of technology I have ever seen. The commercial where they show the real Tiger Woods control the actions of a virtual Tiger Woods with just a plastic stick with buttons blows me away. That your own movements could control a figure on the screen shows that we are getting ever closer to full fledged virtual reality. But it also begs the question, if I can stand in my living room and swing a piece of plastic and pretend to play golf, why don’t I just go outside and play golf? One of the biggest selling points of the Wii seems to be sports games and how you can play all these different sporting events. Now, I know there is a draw to playing as a famous athlete against other athletes, but that is nothing but a hook. If I really wanted to play baseball or golf or tennis, I could just go outside and do it. If Wii really wanted to suck me in and get me to drop coin on a new gaming system, make a few games where I do something I could never do. How about piloting a moon lander, or dating a supermodel or even exploring the Marianas Trench? No way could I ever do those things in real life, so my best option would be a game. Make that game, and you might have me.

I caught the latest California tourism advertisement. Two things strike me about this ad. One, does California really need to advertise for tourism at this point? And two, I doubt I will ever get enough of hearing Arnold Schwarzenegger pronouncing the word California.

Why is it that every time I see or hear about something related to American Idol, the following thought runs through my mind: “Thou shalt not put any false idols before me.”?

And speaking of Idol, at this point the only thing that seems to drag on longer than this show is baseball season. Watching Fox the other evening, I saw that they were down to the top 8. Is it just me, or did they finally narrow it down to the top 12 like 2 months ago? Although I will probably be shunned by elders and spit on by children for disparaging American Idol.

New Jersey is looking to pass a law that will ban text messaging while driving. You should not need a law to tell you that, common sense should tell you this is dangerous, reckless and just plain dumb. Jesse Ventura was right, you cannot legislate common sense.

People need to wake up and realize how bad of an idea it is to put those family caricature stickers on the rear windows of their cars. I know you are proud of your family, and love to show them off, but do you realize when you put them on, you are advertising information about your children to potential predators? I saw one the other day that not only had a caricature of each child, letting me know the approximate age of said child, but also had their first names and above the entire thing the family surname. Everyone now knows the names of all the children of that parent, and has an idea of what the child may look like. I fear that one day we will hear a chilling story of a child abduction that began with some psychopath using these stickers as a base. Please everyone, take them off your cars before some nut does something horrible.

System Reset

2007-04-11T04:14:00.000-04:00

Hello all, and welcome once again to the latest Quick Thoughts system test and review. As you may have noticed, over the last month there has not been much of anything new to peruse around here. No, I have not been a victim of my old nemesis sloth nor have I been lucky enough to be away on a fabulous vacation. There are several interesting and frustrating reasons for the dearth of material. The first reason is, well, I hit a bit of a block. I know that sounds pretty funny considering the length of some of the pieces here, but it happened. I started writing on several different thoughts, and right in the middle of one of them, I just froze. I looked over what I had written and could not for the life of me figure out what I was trying to say. Mercifully, the second reason has aided in cracking that block, and I am back on track. So look for new content coming very soon.

The second reason, which as mentioned helped loosen up the backlog of ideas and direction, is Quick Thoughts has undergone a complete edit. All of the past posts have been read, cleaned up and fixed for improved reading pleasure. The idea for the edit began to germinate late last year, as I was working on The Crystal Ball posts. I would find, always several days after posting, the occasional misspelled word or poor grammar or a piece of unclear writing. I know many of these errors came in the rush to post each week, and as I was not used to posting under deadline, sometimes errors snuck through my crack review process. Oh, and I was still working on developing a crack review process. In one Crystal Ball post, I even found a half finished sentence, where the thought just trailed off and I went on to start a new paragraph. The funny, and kind of sad, part is that I just now noticed it.

So in working to edit The Crystal Ball posts for repost, and the forthcoming fourth reason, I wanted to also go through the other posts and give them the same treatment. This task was far more of a time consuming undertaking than I initially thought, especially with many of the earlier posts. Many of them were replete with grammatical errors, confusing writing and poor wording. But I did take a few positives from the process. One, I found that the writing improved greatly as time went on. Grammatical errors lessened, the writing became clearer and more descriptive and each piece overall had a better flow. So practice, while not making perfect just yet, is definitely improving the quality around here. Two, I have greatly improved my editing skills, which will come in handy for future pieces. And three, in looking at the pieces from an objective standpoint, I found a few of them interesting and a decent read. So perhaps there is hope yet for a career as a wordsmith.

Moving on, the third reason for the delay in material has been due to some cosmetic changes. You may have noticed we have a nice shiny new banner at the top of the page. This graphic is just one part of some overall website work that has been done here and on our home page as well. Hopefully, further changes and improvements will also be forthcoming, although that is dependent on the rate of improvement in my design and site construction skills.

And finally, the fourth reason for the lack of material is also the driving force behind the edits of The Crystal Ball, peripherally the overall edit and a large part of the cosmetic changes and site revamps. I would like to formally introduce Riding the Pine, the new sports only blog. Riding the Pine now contains all of the sports related posts from the last year and will be the new home for The Crystal Ball starting with our upcoming NFL draft special. The idea for a sports themed blog came in speaking with a few of the regulars to Quick Thoughts. I found that while some enjoyed the content in Quick Thoughts, they were ambivalent on the sports themed pieces. While others I spoke with found the sports articles quite interesting and fun. With Riding the Pine, we can now provide a choice for your reading pleasure. Feel like sports, check out Pine. Perhaps you would like something a bit more universal, then Quick Thoughts is your destination. Plus, it will help me to separate and clarify some of the ideas I have and aid in keeping myself organized. In the long run, I think this will be a great addition, and depending on its success, may pave the way for future subject specific blogs.

Now that you are up to date on the goings on around here, stick around for some fresh new content. Or if you are so inclined, sift through the archives and take a new look at some older pieces. With the edits done, they should read much better than before. Well, they should read better, but I know there are still some hidden errors and mistakes embedded somewhere. I am only human, after all. Regardless, please enjoy and stay tuned.

What Is It Good For

2007-03-28T18:10:00.000-04:00

The other weekend, I found myself amidst an anti-war protest. Living in a major metropolitan area, I have seen a few of these, mostly of the variety of people gathering on street corners with signs and placards and encouraging oncoming motorists to honk for peace. But this one was different on several accounts. First, they were marching through a large pedestrian area. Second, there were many more than I had seen at one protest before, at least several hundred, perhaps more. I was not able to get an accurate count. Third, they were very well organized, both in signage, message and leadership. And fourth, I was also a pedestrian, and had a ringside view of the group marching. I had never, to this point in my life, been so close to a group of people driven by their beliefs for peace to take to the streets. Sure, we had all seen such protests, both here and abroad, on television, but being in person at the scene gives the events a completely different perspective. After viewing the march, it left me with many questions and points to ponder, the most notable of which were, why were they so angry and what are they actually doing?

To start, they were not violent, nor did they get into anyone’s face, but they were angry. There was a palpable anger that came from the group as a whole and from specific members in particular. One woman, who may have been one of the organizers, was leading the group in chants and energy. At one point, they stopped to allow others to catch up with them. During this pause, she produced a bull horn and began leading them in a chant. The chant is as follows:

Woman: What do we want?

Group: Peace!

Woman: When do we want it?

Group: Now!

Nothing derogatory toward the current administration, they saved that for a few of the signs and placards, nor anything vile or profane. But they were screaming the chant, many with a vitriol reserved for pure loathing. I found it odd that a group of people would gather together in an effort to show many others how much they want peace, and how important it was to them, and then to be angrily demanding said peace. Part of me wanted to purchase some poster board, write a message stating a wish for 4 more years of war, and sit calmly with it to see what happened. Not that I would ever want such a thing, but I was curious as to what would be the reaction of the protesters. I am fairly certain that many of the group would react negatively to the message, and perhaps even violently. I wanted to point out to them the irony of how they are demanding for peace in an angry and aggressive way, but I got the distinct impression that it would have probably been lost on a good portion of the group.

As they began their march again, I watched with rapt interest as the group continued on its way and on its mission. I wondered about the people partaking in the march, their stories and what drove them to become part of this task. What were their motivations and desires? What makes them want peace so much that they will take to such dramatic action in an effort to bring attention to their cause and mission? But these questions begat other questions, ones that really made me wonder.

I began to wonder how many actually had some sort of personal stake in the war itself. Have any of them ever been in a combat zone, or know the realities of war? Have any of them ever seen the devastation caused by war, or the events that lead up to war first hand? Have any of them ever seen people who have lived their entire lives in abject terror, knowing only fear and death and their only hope is for someone, anyone, to come along and save them? How many of them were related to a soldier in combat, or even personally knew one? Honestly, I would be surprised if that number were over 10%. And if they did have a friend or family member serving in harm’s way, what would that person think of them marching, angrily, for peace? Would they be proud, relieved, or hopeful something would come of it? Would the soldier feel disappointed, cheated or betrayed by them?

Protesters today are careful not to make the same mistakes of those in the 60’s protesting Vietnam, where they protested the war and shunned the troops. Many soldiers then have stories of coming home after the hellish time they spent in combat, only to be treated as pariahs and baby killers upon returning to America. Some were derided, spit on and ostracized by those who were vehement for peace. During the current war, protesters have been very careful to make sure to say that they hate the war and want to end the fighting but are in full support of our troops. They want to bring them home before any more of them perish in what many see as a fruitless and pointless conflict that has no real basis for even existing. That is a debate for another day, but what the protesters fail to realize is that by marginalizing and deriding the war, they are marginalizing what the troops themselves are doing, and thereby, inadvertently, marginalizing and deriding them.

Soldiers want to feel that what they are doing means something, that it is making a difference in the world. They do not want to feel as though their sacrifices are for nothing. And many times, when they see their countrymen protesting and marching against the war, they feel as though they are marching against them. These men and women put their lives at risk each day, no matter the conflict, so the rest of us do not have to ever. It is a tireless, thankless and dangerous job that they never get enough credit for or recognition of their accomplishments or bravery. They face dangers and horrors each day that most us, luckily, will never know and could only imagine in our worst nightmares. They need to feel that what they are doing means something, that it is part of a greater good, that it is for the betterment of us all and ultimately for peace. They need to feel that if they make it out, they can look back and see that what they have done made a positive difference and changed the world for a better place. They need to hold onto this feeling just to make it through each day living and working in a place where their next breath could be their last. Sure, that sounds overly dramatic, but is it? How many times have we heard about suicide bombers, IED devices and sniper attacks? We have heard of them far too many times to take all the drama out of the previous statement and lend it a chilling reality. Now, perhaps when the soldiers come back with their own perspective toward the conflicts, having been in combat zones, they may have a different opinion. Perhaps with their perspective they could give us all a different insight on things, but that is also another debate. What I wonder is whether or not the protesters know how they affect the morale of these men and women, and how it will affect the war itself?

Another thing I wondered when I was watching the protesters was how many of them really were there for peace, and how many were just following the crowd? Watching a few of them, they had the look of just wanting to belong, to be part of something. They had a look that spoke of being an outsider, and just happy to be on the inside for once. I can relate to this, as I am sure many others can as well. When we feel small and outside of the world, we want to attach ourselves to something bigger, something that seems far greater than we are as individuals. The disenfranchised amongst us want to belong, to create change, to leave a mark and be a part of something greater. An opportunity such as a protest gives people that chance, with minimal effort to boot. But do they actually believe what they are saying, or just following the crowd. Mind you, I fully believe many there were very committed to their cause, but a few in the crowd just gave me the distinct impression of salmon heading upstream because that it was something to do.

Which brings me to my second notable question, what were they actually doing. By marching around and yelling about their frustrations, anger and desires for peace, the main impression that I took from them were not that they were an organized group of action, but a bunch of people complaining. This disease seems to be getting worse and worse in our society, affecting all levels of people at an epidemic rate. Almost everyone prefers to complain rather than affect a change in their life. Be it the person in a miserable relationship that just keeps sticking around to the person in a dead end job who goes to work each morning in a funk instead of getting out and grabbing what they want to do in life, everyone is complaining about something. Granted, some of the complaints have merit, but they are still just complaining. And complaining does nothing but temporarily get a problem off your chest, as opposed to solving the problem. I do believe there are those amongst us that are happier when they are unhappy, and complaining is the only thing that makes them happy. If things were going well, or they made a change for the better, they would be miserable. But for the rest of us, it does not have to be like that. We can do something about it.

The protesters did not, or perhaps do not still, seem to realize that making signs and screaming for peace is nothing more than bitching about how things are in the world. Sure, it will get you on the news and a little attention, but if you do not do anything with that, then the only story is, group of people complain about war. And what kind of story is that? If they really believe in what they are saying, then they should do something about it. There are a million things one could do to affect real change and turn those complaints into action. How about run for office and change the laws and the direction of things yourself. If that is too much, perhaps write your congressperson or senator. If they will not do anything, then back others who believe the same things you do and put them into office. Perhaps get a job in government or start a grass roots campaign. Get out there and find others like you band together and form a think tank or organization that can make real strides. Do something that will affect real change as opposed to pompous grandstanding.

Like most people, I do not have any real answers to the tough questions of life. I am trying to figure out things just like everybody else. But one thing I have figured out, and many others still need to, is that nothing in this world is black and white. All we really have are gradient shades of gray. There is no black and white when it comes to war and peace either. Look at any war, and you will find many points of ambiguity where you can question the right and wrong of each decision. Was Truman right to drop the bombs that ended World War II? Sure, countless lives were saved by ending the conflict, but many were killed in the process. See, more shades of gray. We could sit and debate this, and many other decisions made by those in power, and everything else under the sun and moon, until the wee hours of the morning. But there are two things everyone should keep in mind as you go forth and work on finding those elusive answers to life. If you feel strongly about something, get informed about it. Find out as much as you can, base your opinions, beliefs and thoughts on as much information that you can find. Become educated about your opinion, learn the shades of gray and spread that knowledge. What you learn and what you find out could help guide others in their own search for answers in a question filled world. And if you feel so strongly about an issue, problem or something about your world, do something about it. Get out and make a change instead of complaining about it. Make the world a better place, not a more annoying one.

Random Political Observations

2007-03-06T16:13:00.000-05:00

With a new Democratically-led Congress, and the onset of another presidential campaign season, already the stupidity is pouring out of Washington. While watching the opening salvos from each side, aimed not only at each other but themselves, a few observations regarding the electoral process and politics in general have stuck out.

To start, the Democrats are proving themselves to be clueless regarding the constituents they represent. After rigorous campaigning, politicking and barn burning, they managed to finally gain control of Congress for the first time in 12 years. This is quite the accomplishment, owed in no large part by a combination of significant effort on their part and inept leadership on the part of the sitting Republicans. So, with this new found power and clout in Washington, what are the most significant things they have done thus far? They tackled the most pressing problems facing the nation today and banned smoking outside the House chambers and passing a non binding resolution to pull troops from Iraq and end the conflict.

First, let us take a look at the smoking ban. Yes, we all know smoking is bad for you, and despite the mountains of evidence showing the ill effects, many people still partake in the habit. Even those in power find the need to take a puff from the dragon from time to time. Up until now, those in the House who felt this need had only to slip outside the chambers to burn one down. Now, the incoming leadership feels this is wrong and has put an end to the long standing practice. I have no problem with stopping this practice, per se. Smoking in public buildings has been banned in many places for years, and having the seat of government follow suit is long overdue. They should have been leading by example years ago, instead of giving themselves a preferable exemption. The problem I have is two fold. One, the new leadership has trumpeted this as though they have done something significant. Have they really? No, all they have really done is come into compliance with laws regarding smoking in public buildings that they previously passed for everyone else. And two, they are using the forum of the House chambers to once again push forward their own agenda of telling people how to live their lives. Look, we all know smoking is bad. It is one of the worst things you can do to yourself. But if people wish to spend their days sucking in carcinogenic fumes, that is their business. That is a choice they are allowed to make for themselves in a free society such as ours. I know cigarettes are addictive and after a time, it becomes less of a choice and more of a need. But it is always a choice, albeit a rather stupid one. Those who do not smoke, never have smoked, or are reformed smokers and hate the habit feel this overwhelming need to push their own stance and opinions upon those who still smoke. Whenever I see behavior such as this, I tend to always ask the same question; why do you care so much what other people do with their lives? Yes, to those who do not smoke, second hand smoke can be disgusting, nauseating and irritating. But with all the laws we have now, we are almost to the point where you need a permit to light up. Unless you are going to areas where smokers congregate, you can easily go through an entire day and avoid smokers and their vile habit. But the new congressional leadership decided they wanted to make a statement about how they felt not only about smoking, but those who partake in this particular unsavory habit. If this was really about health concerns for non smokers working in the capitol building, they could have easily just made the change and have been done with it. No, they brought it up for the world to see, made a large deal about it, pushed it in front of the media and showed everyone that they were doing something they deemed important. But is it really? I have trouble believing those STILL displaced by Hurricane Katrina would feel this is something important and worthy of time and debate on the floors of the House and Senate. I also have trouble believing those on active duty in foreign lands would also feel it to be an important piece of legislature and usage of legislative time.

Secondly, and speaking of service men and women, let us just take a look at this troop resolution. Basically because it is a non binding resolution, it means nothing, does not require anything or even acknowledgment from the administration, does nothing for any of the service men and women deployed around the world and is barely worth the paper it is written on. So what is the point of it? Symbolism, plain and simple. The new leadership used their forum to voice yet another opinion, this one on the ongoing war on terrorism. More specifically, they used it to voice their opinions also on the administration and the president, and did it in public and put it on paper and on the record. Ok, good. Good for you. But here is a question, if this resolution means nothing, and does not really require any action, or even acknowledgement, from the administration, why did Congress waste over a week of time debating, arguing and pushing for the passage of this document? What really was gained by wasting all this time and increasing the vitriol between the two parties? Sure, it looks good to those who cast their votes for them, showed their supporters that they are taking a stand, but they are not really doing anything with that stand. They are merely grandstanding for political gain, but I have trouble seeing said gain. The whole thing is merely just window dressing.

What really irks me is through all of their campaigns to gain control of the House and Senate, Democrats kept trumpeting that changes needed to be made, and they were going to make them. They kept saying that no one was looking at the real problems or working on them, but they were ready to dive into the breach, roll up their sleeves and start working. They pointed out the massive, and costly, errors in both the wars abroad and the disasters close to home the previous leadership had made, and took a stand saying this had to stop and they would be the ones to stop it. But once they were in, what have they done? Both of these resolutions are nothing but symbolic acts that have changed absolutely nothing but the smoking habits of a few congressional employees.

Now, how about ending your grandstanding, stop wasting time and money, put your massive egos in check and start working together and get to work in finding real solutions to the real problems this country and our citizens have. When the Democrats took office, they vowed to make their first 100 days a whirlwind of legislation and changes that would benefit the country, our citizens and our troops. But so far all I have seen is nothing but personal agendas put on display for the media that do very little to make any significant changes or fix any real problems. Worse, what they have accomplished is to further damage the working relationships between Democrats and Republicans, created an even greater partisan divide between the parties that leads to nothing more than a political quagmire where nothing gets done, problems become worse and distrust of public officials climbs to all time highs. I am appalled that after crying and clamoring for so long to be in charge, these are the types of things they are focusing on, symbolic acts that do nothing to benefit anyone except their own egos and attitudes of self righteousness.

Moving on, I would like to take a look at the democratic presidential aspirations. Democrats have not had control of the presidency for over 6 years now, and with candidates beginning to come forth, their best bets so far are Barack Obama and Hillary Clinton. Seriously, do you think either of these two will win? I do not, and would be surprised if either one won the election. Not because either one would not be an effective leader, but because both of these candidates miss the boat with many people in our country. But this is why Democrats lose so often, they sorely underestimate, misread or ignore the mindset and thinking of Middle America, which is where most constituents reside and are economically grouped. Most people fear change or things that are far different from their norm. And when massive changes come, they tend to rally against them. Most people can handle some change, but large scale drastic changes invoke fear, especially of the unknown. This feeling is intensified when many parts of their own worlds are in chaos and beyond their control, especially when they feel it may directly affect their livelihood. Change is hard to come by when people are already afraid of the state of affairs in their neighborhood, city, state, country and the world. People generally take longer to accept different things and moving away from long time standards and norms. This is especially true in a world where constant change seems to be accelerating at speeds where no one can keep up. Real change takes time, in slow increments, and usually fails if it is a significant amount over a short period of time. It becomes more than most can handle.

If people are already scared of the bad things that can happen with half the world ready to kill us, that they may be out of a job and unable to support their family, that they could be left out in the cold after a devastating disaster, then they will not be ready to hand the reigns over to someone they may not be comfortable with or unsure of their leadership skills. Republicans understand this mentality and have been playing off of this fear, quite successfully, for years. Democrats, however, miss this boat and the mentality of Middle America and continue to push candidates that most people outside of the East and West Coasts would find unattractive. They underestimate how many people look upon Clinton, who will have to battle the baggage left to her by her husband, but also the unfounded fear of being a woman candidate. Right or wrong, there are quite a few people out there who think that a woman might not be strong enough to lead a nation at war. Never mind that Margaret Thatcher, the former Prime Minister of Great Britain, was one of the toughest customers ever to lead a nation and a very successful female leader. We can be a forward thinking country at times and very backward the next. Is it a correct feeling? Is there any real basis for this line of reasoning? No, it is one bred from fear and ignorance. Until we can overcome these feelings as a society, they will remain for a very long time. Also, Democrats underestimate the residual ill feelings toward her husband’s perceived moral character. These feelings toward the Clintons run much deeper, and have hung around much longer, than most Democrats realize. This baggage could potentially hamstring Hillary as she heads down the campaign trail.

It is typically par for the course that men in power will have dalliances with women. With power comes opportunity, and many have chosen to take advantage of said opportunities. History is littered with stories of men in power and the mistresses or concubines they have kept. However, our society’s views on sexual behavior and moral fiber tend to lend to views and opinions that those who hold high offices of power and influence should be above such actions. Never mind the fact that those offices are held by human beings with the same base instincts that are a part of every person. And also never mind the fact that most people will sit in condemnation of those involved in unseemly behavior while mired in it themselves. The ideology that stands is most people do not want to think of, or have, their leaders involved in such shenanigans, and look down upon them if they become embroiled in such situations. Because of these obviously conflicting thought processes, the whole Clinton affair situation polarized many people. And still to this day there are those out there in our great nation who still feel strongly against Clinton for his actions. This feeling is now transferred, fairly or unfairly, to Hillary, who is perceived by some as nothing more than a political opportunist after nothing but power and personal glory. Whether this assessment is correct or fair is not the issue. The issue is that she has the potential to be a polarizing candidate who people will go out to the polls to vote against, regardless of the candidate she faces. Democratic leadership, though, seems unwilling or unable to grasp these feelings from the general populous, and continues on with their plans unabated. If they recognize or accept it, and have plans to be able to combat these perceptions and fears, it has yet to be revealed.

As for Obama, I hate to say this, but he looks to me to become this election’s Howard Dean. A perceived outsider, who comes out of nowhere, sweeps everyone in early, peaks early in the process and then falters down the stretch. I do not know enough about Obama to really get a feel of where he stands on issues, but with the talk going on, I just see a repeat of Dean. But at the moment, that is one of the reasons he is a sexy pick, mainly because no one really knows where he stands. He is an outsider to politics on the national stage, and with people fed up with most long standing politicians, they want someone who does not seem to be affected by business as usual. But that is the problem with an outsider; you do not know where they stand on anything. And thus far, his handlers have been very careful to keep his message devoid of any real content besides your typical political platitudes of changes that need to be made to avoid any potential pitfalls before the primary season kicks into high gear. People tend to tire of this, and will become bored. And sure, it is easy now to say, yeah, I like him as a candidate and would back him, but when push comes to shove, will they really? Ask Howard Dean how that works out.

If the Democrats really want to keep control of Congress and grab the White House, they need to do two things. First, find a candidate that is universally appealing that will not polarize the voting public and has a strong, clear message with a real plan to not only work on fixing the ills of our nation and how to address the war, but also how to work with those on the other side of the political fence. Show that you can and will work well with others so real change and progress will be made. And second, start paying attention, and I mean real attention and not just lip service, to those in Middle America and in the South. In case you have not noticed, this is where elections in recent years have been decided, not in the North, East nor on the West Coast. Just to emphasize this point, since 1976, every president we have had, with the exception of one, has been from the South. In a time span of 30 years, we have had presidents from the South leading our country for 22 of those years. All have come from a region that those in large, media savvy parts of the country seem to dismiss as nothing more than a backward part of the country filled with uneducated rednecks too stupid to know what is good for them. Perhaps the Democrats need to pay attention to how the selections of these “uneducated rednecks” have been shaping our world and realize they have more strength and clout than many realize.

Now, as for the Republicans, thus far they have been keeping their head down, licking their wounds from losing Congress and biding their time. Their two lead candidates that have thrown their hats in the ring, John McCain and Rudy Giuliani, both have appeal, not only to republican voters but across party lines. McCain, a decorated war veteran, is known for working with Democrats to get bipartisan legislation passed and working well with those on either side of the political fence. McCain’s biggest issue may be with the fact that he is a long time senator, and could be perceived as nothing more than another political insider that is more part of the problem than the solution. And Giuliani, while many found to be a hard nosed mayor of one of the largest cities on earth, gained much appeal and showed how he can handle crises for his leadership, compassion and resolve after the tragedy of 9/11. Giuliani has the benefit of demonstrating his leadership on a large scale while still remaining a perceived outsider to Washington. These are candidates that many people will not be too afraid to support. Not too much change from the status quo, but their track records can be touted as those who can get the job done yet not in a business as usual sort of way. Without much effort on their part, already I see the Republicans ahead of the Democrats in the race to the White House.

But the Achilles heel of the Republicans may be their defiance and arrogance. The party itself feels as though they are on the right mission, the mission to be leaders of the world and to eradicate terrorism and evil all over the planet. And theoretically, they could be correct. The debate over who can properly judge what is right or wrong or whether or not we should be self proclaimed world police, however, is for another day. As for the
Republicans’ current mission, they have done poorly thus far on execution. Their strategies and plans have been flawed, shown a poor lack of planning and execution and an overall misjudgment of what it would really take to successfully perform such a Herculean task. Plus, their stubbornness and steadfastness to the mission has caused them to be close minded upon changes and recommendations toward improving the situation. More and more we hear from retired military personnel about how the invasions and occupations were ill planned and poorly executed. And we continue to hear about how recommendations to correct the situations in both the war and on national security are falling on deaf ears. Republicans continue to play the fear card, that if they give up now, if they pull out, the entire Middle East situation could tumble like a house of cards and create a cascading effect that could lead to a far larger, and more dangerous, world conflict. That assessment could very well be true, especially considering how many abroad currently feels about our country and how unstable, historically, that region of the world tends to be. But instead of using the knowledge gained and recommendations toward correcting bad planning, they continue to keep the status quo. As people become more exhausted by the news that comes from the war zones we are currently engaged in throughout the world, this appearance of arrogant inaction tends to push people to want to dump those in charge in favor of something else, even if they have no better plans to trumpet. Merely the hope and promise of change is enough for some people tired of hearing about the deaths of young men and women, depressed about the lack of progress in capturing terrorists, angry about the current course of action and still trapped in an emotional whirlwind regarding what brought us as a nation to this point in history. If they do not make serious strides toward conflict resolution and course corrections, their current stance could backfire for the republican candidate come November 2008.

And finally, can we all just finally accept and realize that Ann Coulter is out for nothing more than media attention, higher ratings and book sales? Her latest comments were aimed at another democratic presidential candidate, former VP candidate John Edwards. Basically, she called John Edwards a faggot, but without coming right out and saying it. Here is her actual quote.

“I was going to have a few comments on the other Democratic presidential candidate, John Edwards, but it turns out that you have to go into rehab if you use the word "faggot."

I actually agree about the rehab part. It seems ridiculous to me that if you spout some ignorant, hate filled speech that you can just to go to rehab and then can be cured of your close mindedness. But how do you rehabilitate hate and ignorance? Is it even possible? Can you really send someone away for 30 days and have them come back open minded and ready to show the world what they learned and how accepting they now are of all different kinds of people? Something like that sounds less like rehabilitation and more like a reeducation camp. The only real way to combat such ignorant thinking is with time, patience, education and a willing recipient. If the person spewing such things does not feel they are wrong, then they really cannot be helped. You cannot lead lemmings away from the cliff. But I digress.

Personally, I think if people want to show how they really feel, let them. Let them sit there at whatever soapbox they can find and spout all the hate and nonsense their tiny little hearts desire until they go hoarse from their ranting and raving. I will do what I always do, shake my head in sadness at those who find it necessary to denigrate others different from themselves, and then laugh at them for their own stupidity. Plus, as an added bonus, we will then know where these narrow minded bigots are and will be able to successfully ignore them in the future. That is the key to dealing with those of her ilk. She is trying to raise controversy; she is trying to provoke anger and response because it helps her bottom line. It aids in keeping her in the news, in the public eye, and thereby keeping her employed and making money. But if we just ignore her verbal diarrhea, eventually if people stop listening and buying into her nonsense, she and others like her will just go away.

Now, her defense of her statements is nothing short of priceless. She is maintaining that it was nothing more than a joke, but that the “liberals” are blowing it out of proportion. I love that catch all, it is nothing more than a misunderstanding and it is everyone else’s fault they did not understand. Yes, it is ALWAYS someone else’s fault. No need to take personal responsibility for your own actions anymore in our society, simply find your own personal antagonist and blame them for all the bad things you say and do. This is beautiful reasoning that is becoming, frighteningly, much more commonplace in our society. She also stated that the term is not derogatory slang toward gay people, but merely a school yard taunt that means wuss. Well, unless she is a gay woman, I find it rather difficult for her to determine what is or is not a derogatory comment toward the gay community. Unless she has walked in their shoes, she really has no idea how a word or ideology can be hurtful. Putting aside for a moment the ridiculousness of her explanation and the fact that she is completely ignoring the fact that it is a derogatory term against gay people, for a moment let’s just take her statement at its face value, and take it as nothing more than school yard taunting. Fine, for argument's sake, what she said was nothing more than calling Edwards a wuss, but using much more inflammatory language. But if we do accept that this was her intention, then that brings up a few more important questions. Is this really what we have finally devolved to in politics, nothing more than childish name calling? Have we really fallen so far from civility and delved so deep into political mudslinging that we have reached a depth where now if you disagree with someone and what they say that any semblance of debate and discussion are now eliminated in favor of behavior we would admonish our children for partaking in? Is this the political low we are now willing to accept? If so, then it really must be the beginning of the presidential election season.