I'm not opinionated

Let me count the ways

2006-08-06T08:02:00.000-07:00

Sometimes I wish that it was in my nature to gush more. The only thing that bugs me more than the way that people drop the f-bomb in public is the way that people use "I love you" to mean everything but "I love you". I know too many people who have those words come quicker than Pamela Anderson at a rock star convention, without really thinking about what they are saying. I have heard "I love you" used to mean everything from "You're ignoring me", "Do what I tell you", "Goodbye", and "I told you so", to "Fuck off'. I especially love people who feel the need to say "I love you" every time they hang up the phone with a family member. I'm sure that I heard one of the women that I work with slip and say "I love you" when she hung up from ordering lunch.

I want my family to know how much that I love them, but I'm sure that it would lose meaning if I started gushing every time that I felt proud of them. Yeah, I try to say "I love you" at appropriate times, but I would prefer to show love. On the day that I die, I don't want to leave anything unsaid, but I also don't want my family to feel like they have to rush to me to say "I love you" one last time. I would prefer to show it every day.

An Intelligent Response

2005-11-20T18:17:00.000-08:00

It appears that the Reactionary spirit in Kansas has hit a new high, and the Scopes Trial is just another trip back to the future. Soon, kids in Kansas will be learning the ground breaking theories that the Earth is round, and that there is a remote chance that we are not the center of the Universe. (Okay, I'm just kidding, everyone knows that the religious right are the center of the universe.) They don't need no stinkin' Darwin, at least not for the next 4 thousand years or so. Let the Earth double in age before we approach such blasphemy again. So what is there to do if you disagree with the actions of the board? I suggest sending your school taxes to them in lead, and let them change it into gold.

Oprah is Playboy for Women

2005-11-13T20:20:00.000-08:00

A notion has been creeping up on me for some time. After watching a few minutes of an Oprah episode recently, the notion became a full blown thesis. Oprah is Playboy for women. I generally wouldn't have even pulled my trigger finger from the remote button, but Jay Leno was one of the guests. It only took a few minutes after the obligatory introductions before "O" asked the question... "Why do men go to strip bars?" Come on, she knows the only possible answer is, "Because they can!" It was, in reality, a rhetorical question. She was just adding another item to her "MEN SHOULDN'T" list. This is the invisible list that floats sanctimoniously next to the "MEN SHOULD" list that populates the script of most of the Oprah shows that I have had the dubious fortune to observe. Men should be warm and nurturing (as long as they are not wimpy). Men shouldn't enjoy looking at nude women (unless the woman happens to be their wife, she is not retaining water and is in the mood to be looked at, and has give her written consent in triplicate). Men should share equally with their wives, cry at movies, and give good backrubs while their wives buy those cute new shoes. By the time that "O" finishes dissecting what men should and shouldn't be, she has removed all of the warts and airbrushed so many emotions upon the "Ideal" man, that she has created an unrealistic icon. No man could live up to the "Ideal" that Oprah sells along with the dishwashing soap and feminine products each day. If women expect to find the man that "O" has created, they will be as disappointed as men are after they have met the playmate of the month without her makeup. The most disturbing aspect of this situation is that Oprah has ten times the audience that Hugh Heffner has, and one-hundred times the influence. Before long, all men will need consult their therapist before they decide whether they should cry at that "Chick Flick" or not. Please Oprah, can't we all just get along?

Criticism in Critical Times

2005-09-01T22:22:00.000-07:00

It has been a long time since I have written in this blog. Time, circumstances and other priorities have kept me occupied. The aftermath of Hurricane Katrina has prompted me to think back to when I was a kid, and try to understand what is happening. My family survived Hurricane Agnes, and I clearly remember the frustration and anger associated with the recovery process. During that storm, high ground was easily attained, the water receded after twenty-four hours, and we were able to start thinking about resuming a normal life after a couple of weeks. It is easy to sit on the outside of this devestation and criticize what is happening. I can't imagine trying to survive a situation that progressed from "Rescue Me" to "Lord of the Flies" as quickly as this has. I'd imagine that after the cavalry didn't come marching to the rescue, I'd do everything that I could to help my family to survive. That would include looting for food, and arming myself to protect my own. I can't fathom or justify some of the behavior that is being reported. Why would you shoot at your rescuers? What good would it do me to steal a plasma TV amid the wreckage. From the outside, thinking rationally, this makes no sense. But, rational thought doesn't often accompany those who must fight for the most basic of human needs. The question that should be asked is not why have these people become animals; but why have they been left in a situation where they must revert to the basest of instincts to survive? We can plan months ahead to invade Iraq, but when we see a storm such as this coming, why can't we plan to have water and food ready when the storm passes? Do we really need to wait for the devastation before the local politicos officially invite the national guard and the Army to come to the rescue? Instead of worrying about whose toes are being stepped on, let's think about saving the people who are suffering. Recovery from natural disaster should not be an afterthought.

Sometimes your mind says yes, while your body screams "Who are you kidding?"

2005-01-13T17:28:00.000-08:00

I'm not opinionated
How many times have I heard that your body starts to fall apart when you hit middle age? The admonishment is always served with a smile; but no statement could be more serious or true. Take for instance, hemorrhoids. A minor pain in the ass in my youth (I'm sorry, I had to use that one) later became a debilitating condition as those southern vericose veins expanded like an innertube in the sun. I'm not sure if the pain of the experience was physical, emotional, or caused by repressing the urge to share the pain with a smarmy doctor. A first embarrassed office visit yielded a highly professional diagnosis: "Yep, it looks like your giving birth to a bloody cauliflower down there.". He was wrong, it was more like birthing an epileptic porcupine. That was followed by the inevitable line of questions that indirectly asked if these hemorrhoids were really speedbumps. Hell, I couldn't even shit with it, I'm wasn't about to use it as a playground. If that wasn't enough humiliation, Dr. Understanding referred me for the sub-commander treatment. Yes, a barium enema was necessary, "Just to be sure that everything was ship-shape." I later found out that he never even saw the results of the dreaded procedure. Imagine this: five days of laxatives, followed by Citrate of Magnesia (otherwise known as the lemon-lime tornado). Drink a bottle, and head to the bathroom, because five minutes later the backdraft will suck the fillings out of your teeth. Once the High Colonic Highway was clear, a trip to the proctologist was next in line. Why the hell would a proctologist have seats in his waiting room? I think that the kid before me bugged me the most. He was complaining about the taste of the barium...the little puke got to swallow his! Even the backless gown didn't spook me as much as the three nurses who appeared to be holding ropes. What I assumed were highly technical equipment turned out to be the medical equivalent of the tethers used on the Bullwinkle balloon in the Macy's parade. I can now relate to the big moose, I'm sure that I bumped my head on the ceiling somewhere near the middle of the procedure. Considering that this was all a prelude to the actual operation and recovery, I wish that I had been told that "roids" are a lot like homing pigeons. I'd love to sit and write some more, but my mind is screaming at me.

We Should Have Known

2005-01-09T19:50:00.000-08:00

It's official, tsunami aid is the hippest cause since saving the anorexic vegetarian HIV positive whales. Now, when you scratch the forehead of Hollywood luminaries, you will no longer be able to see through to the other side. Instead, you will see images of benefits, including some awesome opportunities to wear outfits that cost more than the gross national product of several of the countries affected. No need for humble, anonymous giving here, everyone has a chance for their 15 seconds of fame. In the spirit of giving, I have some humble suggestions for the notable and notorious:

-Oprah could give everyone a car, with a set of Dr. Phil tapes in the glove box
-The women from Sex and the City could collect several boxes of Manolo Blahnik shoes and purses to send (after all, even the homeless need to accessorize)
-Paris Hilton and Nicole Richie should shoot their next episode of "The Simple Life" in Sri Lanka (maybe they've already beaten me to that idea, they are so sensitive!)
-Brittney Spears could marry each of the male refugees for 72 hours, with a healthy prenup of course
-Latrell Spreewell can't really spare the time, he's got a family to feed, you know
-Ron Artest could produce a CD of his greatest hits
-Toby Keith could wrap himself in several American flags and.... wait, there aren't any asses to kick here
-Charlton Heston can send everyone a gun, after all the animals had a sixth sense, so the hunting should be good
-Michael Moore could send all of the food that he seems to have spilled down the front of his sweatshirt

It would be a shame if some of the glitterati missed out on an opportunity for self-promotion and just quietly lent a hand. That's not the American way.

I you believe the ads for more than 4 hours...

2005-01-03T19:35:00.000-08:00

Okay, so we are finding out that Vioxx, Celebrex, and several other prescription drugs might not be good for us after all. So many television commercials tell us that we need the purple pill (even if we don't know what it is for) that we have become conditioned to ask our doctor for it. Have we ever considered who these ads benefit? Here goes, who owns the most expensive home in New York State? If you aren't sure, check out this link: http://www.nytimes.com/2004/12/31/nyregion/31mansion.html?ex=1262235600&en=babf484423c81263&ei=5088&partner=rssnyt . It will lead you to a heartwarming article about the pharmaceutical distributor who just purchased a house in the Hamptons for 10 million more than the United States offered in aid to the tsunami victims. The next time that you are about to take a prescription medicine, check the side effects. In really small print, it will list excessive profits as a side effect of nearly every drug on the market. Oops, unbridled optimism must be one of the side effects of avoiding prescription medications.

Still Red and Blue States?

2005-01-02T14:40:00.000-08:00

I'm not opinionated It's incredible that months after the election the press is still talking about red and blue states. I'm not sure if this is just a convenient catch phrase for people who are too lazy or uninspired to come up with their own adjectives, or very effective political spin. This oversimplification of political viewpoints marginalizes everyone, not just those who live in a state that is "blood red" or "midnight blue". I used to think that having the media "call" an election before the polls closed yielded premature electoration, but now we are being conditioned to believe that if we are the "wrong color" for our state, our vote is useless. As a result, voices are muted, ideas are squashed, and the democratic process is shortchanged. Maybe some day, after we bring democracy to Iraq, they can be divided into red and blue tribes, and their leader can be elected by fewer than 30% of those eligible to vote. Anyone for eliminating the electoral college?

At least we didn't offer the pocket lint!

2005-01-01T21:55:00.000-08:00

If you have followed the U.S. response to one of the deadliest natural disasters in history, you may have noticed a pattern of reaction rather than action. As President Bush remained at his Crawford ranch clearing brush and riding his bicycle, Colin Powell offered a monumental fifteen million dollars in aid. Bush had the opportunity to show his ability to lead, to organize a relief effort by our allies (both of them), but he stayed on his ranch and sent Colin Powell to let them eat cake. It seems that our President's leadership bike still needs training wheels. Even a bit of tweaking by a United Nations official only loosened the pursestrings to $35 million. http://story.news.yahoo.com/news?tmpl=story2&u=/ap/20041228/ap_on_go_ca_st_pe/us_quake . Finally today, we upped the amount of aid to $350 million. http://www.bloomberg.com/apps/news?pid=10000103&sid=a4_a_zg6UFus&refer=us . It seems that it took him a while, but the leader of the free world found something in it for himself. Sure, Haliburton won't be able to cash in on this one, but by sending his brother as an "ambassador", Jeb can be moved onto a larger stage. Maybe Schwartzenneger for President wouldn't be so bad after all.

Just Another Day

2004-12-31T01:43:00.000-08:00

It is seductive to look at New Year's Eve as a time to reflect upon the events of the past year and take stock. I've always felt that if you only check your rearview mirror once a year, you're likely to get run over by traffic. Now that I've reached middle age (sure, I fully expect to live to see 90) I wake up every morning, take inventory of the parts that still work, and plan how I'll use them for the day. I've heard people say that tonight is amateur night in the bars, but it seems that it's also amateur night for those who get misty looking at the events of the past year, and make empty resolutions about the year to come. The fact that January 1st begins a new year is as arbitrary as the order of the alphabet, the fact that one person survives a disaster while thousands of others perish, or the amount of money that our government commits to humanitarian aid (roughly equivalent to offering to replace one of the life preservers on the Titanic). Of course, as the ball drops tonight I'll hug my children, kiss my wife, and be happy that I have another day to do the best that I can; but I try to do that every day.

Vampires and Village Gossips

2004-12-30T22:01:00.000-08:00

The Village Gossip is back in town for the holidays. One of the great benefits of the internet, other than music piracy and pornography in the comfort of your own home, is the ability to stay in touch. As my kids IM their friends, there are days that I have the uncomfortable feeling that ozone is emanating from the computer, circling me, and sniffing my ass. That's when I know that they are chatting with the former neighbor, being subtly pumped for information from afar. It's amazing that someone can know more about my neighbors from hundreds of miles away than I know (or care to know) sitting in their living room having a beer. I'm convinced that the only difference between our Gosssip and a vampire is that you have to invite a vampire into your home before it can suck your blood. I've submitted her name to the Office of Homeland Security. Two days working for them, and she'll not only know who the terrorists are and where they plan their next attack, she'll also know who they had dinner with, how much they paid for their car, and who they have been sleeping with. What kind of emptiness motivates someone to spend all of their time collecting and distributing personal information about their friends? She does save me work at times; when I have information that I need to get to all of my neighbors, I just call our Gossip and tell her not to tell anyone.

Has the F-bomb become a dud?

2004-12-29T15:28:00.000-08:00

It is curious that in our current conservative environment, we drop the F-bomb as if it was a gum wrapper. I listened today as a group of kids used it as a noun, verb, adjective, and maybe even a gerund. Don't get me wrong, I'm far from a prude, and my picture will never be next to genteel in the dictionary. I don't place a great deal of creedence in political correctness, and I am sure that there are times that no other word fits in the sentence. My point is, if you choose to use such a potent word as an opening salvo in a war of words, what do you have left when you really need a linguistic nuclear warhead? The word has been so trivialized that the F-bomb has become no more than a firecracker. Perhaps that this isn't such a bad thing, the word has been at the top for such a long time. Maybe it's time that we come up with a new triple-dog-dare of curse words. I nominate "politician".

You Can't Measure a Man With a Yardstick

2004-12-28T17:24:00.000-08:00

My father was an alien. No, really. Not only was he born in Scotland, making him alien to the United States; but by the time of his death, his viewpoints were so alien to mine that we could only talk about sports and the weather. He struggled throughout his life to provide my family with what it needed to thrive. Although I often disagreed with his logic, I always appreciated that he did what he thought was necessary to push my brothers and sisters and I in the "right" direction. He instilled in me a feeling that some day, I would be "Important". It took years for me to understand what he meant.
When I entered college, I was sure that some day, I would be "Important". I pursued a course of study in a young profession that would allow me a chance to become a "Big Name". For the first five years of my professional career, I did everything that was necessary to climb the ladder. Working long hours, continuing my education, and schmoozing properly all factored into the equation. I saw my friends following the same path, and I was sure that I was moving in the right direction. At that time, I was sure that fame and fortune wasn't far away.
Luckily, my daughter was born and I woke up. I was so sure that I needed to be a "Big Name" in order to be happy, that I didn't even realize that I was living out my father's dream. A change of job and priorities left me with a smaller income, little chance of being "Important" with a capital "I", and a chance to be there to see my children grow ( a son came along four years later). Over the years, I have watched many of my friends continue to move up the ladder; acquiring houses, cars, and other toys along the way.
This situation would not be so poignant if my daughter hadn't reached her eighteenth birthday recently. I've always told her that my job as a parent was to help her to avoid deep scars until she was old enough to be charged as an adult. Well, she is now eligible to have her face on the Post Office wall. I've been able to be there to watch her grow, to cheer her victories and bandage her wounds (yeah, maybe the one on her knee really did need stitches). Although my opinion might be a bit biased, I think that she has become one of the most incredible people that I have ever known. Suddenly, I understand where the capital "I" comes from. Thanks dad.

The World Sublime

2004-12-27T15:54:00.000-08:00

The loss of life caused by tsunamis in the Indian Ocean should heighten our awareness of our place in the world. What have we accomplished as individuals, as a country, as a human race? Will we be able to reach out to people in need, many of whom are very different from us, without expecting some sort of quid pro quo? It is difficult to imagine the horror occurring in Sri Lanka, India, Indonesia, and many other countries as a result of yesterday's unbelievable natural disaster. After the incredible pain that we have experienced in Afghanistan and Iraq in the past year, we have a chance to help people who need us. Let's hope that we can do that with humility and integrity.

The Ghost of Christmas Present

2004-12-24T04:22:00.000-08:00

It seems that Donald Rumsfeld had a bit of bad pudding last night, and was visited by a series of ghosts in his dreams. Or was that his signature machine that they sent to Iraq to "raise holiday spirits and demonstrate compassion for soldiers' sacrifices"? http://apnews.myway.com/article/20041224/D875O0U84.html
Old St. Rummy flew in under the cover of darkness, as the soldiers were all tucked in their beds, while visions of body armor and reinforcements danced in their heads. It's a shame that the trip wasn't announced ahead of time, the troops would have welcomed him with open arms...right? Be aware, this trip was planned long before Rumsfeld got his latest stocking full of coal. THIS WAS NOT A PUBLICITY STUNT.

Just getting started!

2004-12-23T17:08:00.000-08:00

From what I understand, a blog is a place to let your ego run rampant, issue important opinions about the human condition, and generally prove that your opinion is superior to all others. Or, at least all others that disagree with you. I knew that there was a reason to start one of these puppies.
I was intrigued by today's news that the first cloned cat was sold for $50,000.http://www.cnn.com/2004/TECH/science/12/23/gen.us.clonedcat.ap/index.html Sure, your first reaction might be awe over the power of science, indignation at the frivolous nature of spending that kind of cash to recreate an animal when thousands are euthanized daily, or generalized anger at driving up the prices at your favorite takeout restaurant. Give it a few minutes, think out all of the possibilities, and you realize that you should really be laughing heartily. A cloned tiger cat? An exact replica of an animal that would be difficult to pick out of a crowd unless you were able to bring several home to see which one sprays on your new couch. How does one verify that the spawn of Fluffy is truly Frankenfluffy, and not just a cheap imitation? Are they issued with their own electron microscope (for 50 G's they ought to be), or is Purina branching into the kitty DNA testing market? I can just see the new owner now, "It HAS to be Fluffy, she ignores me just like Fluffy did." Be careful what you accept as fact, before you know it they'll be trying to convince you that a glass of water is worth two bucks!