On a two-way radio 10-4 means "OK I heard and understand your message." So I have always thought of October Fourth as my personal day to celebrate communication.
Without the 10-4 there is only a one way channel of information. Someone speaks or writes. Yet, without the verification that someone has listened or read the message there is no way of knowing whether communication has occurred.
There is an ad currently running for one of the major cell phone companies that highlights this issue in a humorous way. In the ads, the call is "dropped" just at the critical point in the conversation, when silence would be disastrous. The caller, hearing nothing, thinks that the respondent is speechless, and therefore assumes totally the wrong meaning.
In the classic Paul Newman movie, Cool Hand Luke, when Strother Martin speaks the line "What we have here is a failure to communicate" (just after he has brutally whacked Luke with his riding crop), he is talking about Luke's listening skills, not about his ability to send a clear message.
This is why it is so frustrating to watch politicians being interviewed or participating in those awful debate spectacles. The moderator asks a tough question and the respondent says whatever is on their mind, as if we wouldn't notice that they failed to answer the question. If the question was stupid, the respondent should say "That is a dumb question, I will not dignify it with an answer."
At my age, having a great conversation is near the top of the list when it comes to satisfying experiences. It is all too rare to find people who speak your language, have something interesting to say, are interested in listening to your perspectives, and who share a sense of humor.
=======================
There are rare moments in life that we have a special sense of time and place that stick in our minds.
On October 4 1957, when Sputnik was launched, I was 15 years old. I can recall being with my brother and our buddies having cokes and fries at Doran's - our long since disappeared hangout.
One of the guys came in with a newspaper and we all read about the satellite that had been put into space by the Reds. Satellite? Orbit? We were mostly interested in cars and girls and baseball. But, we knew instantly that something in our lives would be changed from that day foreword.
None of us thought we would still be alive 50 years later.
10/04/2007
9/20/2007
"Don't Tase me, bro,"
One of the pop topics of the day is about this loudmouth kid who got what he deserved (50,000 volts) at a Univ of Florida forum where he seriously violated the rights of others in the audience.
Strange as it seems, a group of students actually showed up to hear what Sen John Kerry had to say. They had the right to be able to hear the speaker, and to hear an orderly set of questions (even though the answers would probably be vague and confusing). As a resident of Mass, I am annoyed that the Senator was not at the work that he gets paid to do - but that is another issue.
I hear some morons talk about the rights of free speech, as if that mean't that we all have the right to say anything - anytime we choose. No one has the "right" to inflict their opinions on an unwilling audience. The right of free speech protects the writer or speaker from being put in jail for expressing unpopular ideas - so long as those ideas are expressed in a way that does not infringe on the rights of others to peace, privacy and freedom from assault.
You cannot freely express your ideas by spraypainting them on walls of public buildings, or by driving through the streets with a loudspeaker truck. I would extend this prohibition to anyone who disturbs the peace of a public gathering by hectoring a speaker.
Bogarting the mike in a public forum, using profanity and generally disturbing the peace is not protected behavior and should be met with rapid, painful and yes - even shocking attenuation.
Let the word go forth to those who think their issue is more important than your issue - "You will get tasered, bro!"
Strange as it seems, a group of students actually showed up to hear what Sen John Kerry had to say. They had the right to be able to hear the speaker, and to hear an orderly set of questions (even though the answers would probably be vague and confusing). As a resident of Mass, I am annoyed that the Senator was not at the work that he gets paid to do - but that is another issue.
I hear some morons talk about the rights of free speech, as if that mean't that we all have the right to say anything - anytime we choose. No one has the "right" to inflict their opinions on an unwilling audience. The right of free speech protects the writer or speaker from being put in jail for expressing unpopular ideas - so long as those ideas are expressed in a way that does not infringe on the rights of others to peace, privacy and freedom from assault.
You cannot freely express your ideas by spraypainting them on walls of public buildings, or by driving through the streets with a loudspeaker truck. I would extend this prohibition to anyone who disturbs the peace of a public gathering by hectoring a speaker.
Bogarting the mike in a public forum, using profanity and generally disturbing the peace is not protected behavior and should be met with rapid, painful and yes - even shocking attenuation.
Let the word go forth to those who think their issue is more important than your issue - "You will get tasered, bro!"
9/19/2007
Honk
Another reason to quit working
Americans lose five days a year, just sitting in traffic!
http://www.msnbc.msn.com/id/20829879/
Americans lose five days a year, just sitting in traffic!
http://www.msnbc.msn.com/id/20829879/
9/16/2007
Ch-Ch-CHanges in the Air
I was out early today, trying to get my so-called daily walk in before my 11-month-old grand daughter arrives. The air was crisp and the sky was deep blue with that golden glint of morning sunshine that you only get in September.
Autumn is my favorite season. It is the time of the Harvest - corn, squash, tomatoes, all those good New England produce items. Football is back. Fresh, tart, local, red Apples. It is the time for getting out of doors and opening the windows to let the fresh air inside.
Monday has been "my" day to watch Lila since she was 3 months old. If you know me, then you know that I am not the nurturing type, but my daughter needed to get back to work, and Lila was too young to be warehoused in a day-care-center all day.
So the grandparents on both sides stepped-up to help. My wife watches her on Friday, I have Monday, the paternal grandparents have her Tuesday and Thursday. The parents have her overnight and on weekends, (when they are not gallivanting off to Europe for two weeks).
In the early months, I would chafe at the feeling of trapped isolation when I realized that my world had contracted to revolve around the needs of a helpless infant who is totally dependent upon me - the caregiver. I imagine every young parent feels that same sense of being isolated when she/he is stuck watching a needy child when they would rather be out drinking beer with adults.
Like I say, I am definitely not your average metrosexual guy who enjoys pushing a baby carriage around, or changing diapers. But little Lila has melted my "tough-guys-don't-dance" façade. She has been a delight from the get-go. She is very sociable - a natural smiler, who enjoys being talked-to, sung-to and played-with.
Moreover, she is incredibly cute. I know you are thinking that I am biased, but how about this? When we take her out to a mall or supermarket, people always stop and remark what a cute baby she is. Do total strangers come-up and admire your grandchild? I think not.
We have watched her grow from a tiny infant to an expert crawler and accomplished babbler in these eight months. Last week, she climbed the first step of the stairs, so I guess it is time to put-up the grandkid gates again. (The cats hate when we do that).
For the past few weeks, on Wednesdays Lila has been going to the daycare facility with her three-year old brother. My daughter tells me that, shortly, there will be a space for her there on Mondays - and I will be offered the chance to get my Mondays back.
I tell myself that I will eagerly take it when it comes, because 8 hours is too long for me to be on-duty as a child care provider. I am looking to find a nice part-time job, and I have other age-appropriate interests like fishing and golf. Today I had to turn down a lunch invitation with my buddies, because I am certainly not showing-up with a baby in tow.
But, when she is in the day care place, there will be a real pang of loss for me, because part of me looks forward to my Lila day. Invariably she gives me a big smile, like she is glad to see me. I don't think I will get that from a fish or a boss.
I'm glad i took my friend's suggestion. I feel that I will always have it to look back on and will undoubtedly think: This has been an experience that I am glad that I did not miss.
9/13/2007
Happy Rosh Hashanah!
Let's face it, today is as much of a holy day as christmas to us heathens, eh?
I have just borrowed Hitchins' new book "god is not Great" from the public library, but have not started it yet. Probably much like Dawkins' "The god Delusion" which I read last year. Religion is the cause of all evil in the world. Seems like evangelistic atheists are coming out of the woodwork. Isn’t that an oxymoron?
Well, we are back from France, and I must say, it was a fabulous experience. My only regret is that we did not do it 30 years ago when we would have had more energy to walkabout and the capacity to stay up late and enjoy the nightlife. Also, the exchange rate was more favorable 30 years ago. Today $100 USD buys about 67 Euro's (with exchange fee factored in), and a cappuccino in Paris costs 4 E.
We had 5 days "on our own” in Paris and 4 days touring the countryside. The weather was boringly mild and mostly sunny. We were fortunate not to have experienced any lost luggage or travel mishaps beyond the expected delays and attendant annoyances.
Our command of the French language was so inept as to be distressing. (Yet another reason we wished we had been there 30 years ago when our college conversational French was good enough to read Le Monde). Yet, the French reputation for being rude to tourists seems over exaggerated. We generally found them to be helpful and earnestly appreciative of our feeble attempts to communicate with them. Ordering in restaurants was particularly challenging, although we did find a few that had English versions of the menu. We became more vigilant after discovering that Tartare does not mean Grilled.
We usually ate informally in Brasseries or Creperies, where you could manage to have a meal in less than 3 hours. The food was amazing. Fresh, tasty delicious. Salads were crisp, the bread was wonderful. At most eating places, the "service charge" is included in the price and tips are not expected as they are in US. I usually tipped a few Euros based on friendliness and effort, and a few times the wait person personally expressed surprise and pleasure and even shook my hand. Ugly American? I think not.
Nowhere are Americans more appreciated than in the Normandy area. We visited the D-Day memorial sites, the beaches where more than 6,000 US troops were killed in just a few hours, the cemetery, the Peace Museum. Normandy is famous for their Camembert Cheese, but we also learned about the events of WW2. My knowledge of history has always been a "C" at best (according to the Western Civilization professors' grades on my blue book exams), so I had forgotten how rapidly the French were defeated by Hitler's armies. After a few days of fighting and staggering losses, the French army simply gave-up. The country was subsequently (for about 5 years) occupied by the Germans. Thus, most of the damage to French towns was caused by Allied bombs during the liberation.
The route of our travels took us through Brittainy south to the Loire Valley. Wine Country. Mmm. Lunch would usually include a glass of rose or white vin de pays, which cost about the same as a coke (2.5E). We stopped at dozens of churches and chateaus - each with its own history and story of monarchs, political intrigues and (of course) wars. We saw the place where Leonardo Da Vinci spent the last three years of his life.
The jet lag has not entirely dissipated, but I am now back in the humdrum rat-race of a retiree: Awakened by the sounds of a spouse readying herself for work, I descend to the quietude of the kitchen to read the papers and drink a hot cup of Starbuck's Verona blend (Did I mention that you cannot get a good cup of brewed coffee in France?). I enjoy a renewed appreciation for American plumbing and fixtures; then, I take my coffee and papers to sit on the screen porch to consider how the day will unfold. Shall I read the new Hitchens book? Shall I call someone to arrange lunch? Is it too cold to go fishing? Hmm, the lawn needs mowing. And the temperature really is cool enough to paint that fading North side. Judy has a "honey-do" list as long as a freshly baked baguette (mmm). The thought of doing physical work creates dissonance with my mood of lassitude, so I go inside and close the slider. I decide to update the blog.
I have just borrowed Hitchins' new book "god is not Great" from the public library, but have not started it yet. Probably much like Dawkins' "The god Delusion" which I read last year. Religion is the cause of all evil in the world. Seems like evangelistic atheists are coming out of the woodwork. Isn’t that an oxymoron?
Well, we are back from France, and I must say, it was a fabulous experience. My only regret is that we did not do it 30 years ago when we would have had more energy to walkabout and the capacity to stay up late and enjoy the nightlife. Also, the exchange rate was more favorable 30 years ago. Today $100 USD buys about 67 Euro's (with exchange fee factored in), and a cappuccino in Paris costs 4 E.
We had 5 days "on our own” in Paris and 4 days touring the countryside. The weather was boringly mild and mostly sunny. We were fortunate not to have experienced any lost luggage or travel mishaps beyond the expected delays and attendant annoyances.
Our command of the French language was so inept as to be distressing. (Yet another reason we wished we had been there 30 years ago when our college conversational French was good enough to read Le Monde). Yet, the French reputation for being rude to tourists seems over exaggerated. We generally found them to be helpful and earnestly appreciative of our feeble attempts to communicate with them. Ordering in restaurants was particularly challenging, although we did find a few that had English versions of the menu. We became more vigilant after discovering that Tartare does not mean Grilled.
We usually ate informally in Brasseries or Creperies, where you could manage to have a meal in less than 3 hours. The food was amazing. Fresh, tasty delicious. Salads were crisp, the bread was wonderful. At most eating places, the "service charge" is included in the price and tips are not expected as they are in US. I usually tipped a few Euros based on friendliness and effort, and a few times the wait person personally expressed surprise and pleasure and even shook my hand. Ugly American? I think not.
Nowhere are Americans more appreciated than in the Normandy area. We visited the D-Day memorial sites, the beaches where more than 6,000 US troops were killed in just a few hours, the cemetery, the Peace Museum. Normandy is famous for their Camembert Cheese, but we also learned about the events of WW2. My knowledge of history has always been a "C" at best (according to the Western Civilization professors' grades on my blue book exams), so I had forgotten how rapidly the French were defeated by Hitler's armies. After a few days of fighting and staggering losses, the French army simply gave-up. The country was subsequently (for about 5 years) occupied by the Germans. Thus, most of the damage to French towns was caused by Allied bombs during the liberation.
The route of our travels took us through Brittainy south to the Loire Valley. Wine Country. Mmm. Lunch would usually include a glass of rose or white vin de pays, which cost about the same as a coke (2.5E). We stopped at dozens of churches and chateaus - each with its own history and story of monarchs, political intrigues and (of course) wars. We saw the place where Leonardo Da Vinci spent the last three years of his life.
The jet lag has not entirely dissipated, but I am now back in the humdrum rat-race of a retiree: Awakened by the sounds of a spouse readying herself for work, I descend to the quietude of the kitchen to read the papers and drink a hot cup of Starbuck's Verona blend (Did I mention that you cannot get a good cup of brewed coffee in France?). I enjoy a renewed appreciation for American plumbing and fixtures; then, I take my coffee and papers to sit on the screen porch to consider how the day will unfold. Shall I read the new Hitchens book? Shall I call someone to arrange lunch? Is it too cold to go fishing? Hmm, the lawn needs mowing. And the temperature really is cool enough to paint that fading North side. Judy has a "honey-do" list as long as a freshly baked baguette (mmm). The thought of doing physical work creates dissonance with my mood of lassitude, so I go inside and close the slider. I decide to update the blog.
9/09/2007
8/24/2007
Au Revior
Nous allons en Paris le mardi prochain - for those who forgot their High school French or who wisely opted to learn Spanish instead, it means: “We leave for Paris next Tuesday.
I am excited about being in Paris for the first time in my life. I’m NOT looking forward to the airport scene and long flight on British Airways. In an article in yesterday’s WSJ I read that they (BOA) lost 550,000 pieces of luggage between Jan 1 and June 30. That's 35 out of 1,000, which is worse than the worst American carrier (Northwest).
Travel has become an impossible test of patience and sanity. I think most people who travel regularly need also to drink heavily and take prescription grade drugs to maintain their serenity in the face of the obstacles and foul-ups that have become familiar fodder for comics and blog ranters – Delays, long slow moving lines, security checkpoint inconveniences, cancellations, uncomfortable seats, homely cabin attendants, crappy food, movies that suck, annoying children, smelly fellow travelers, terrorist suicide bombers, and the like.
We keep telling ourselves that the destination is worth the price of getting there. I wonder…
Sometimes it seems everyone else* (tout le monde) has already been to Paris, France. If I mention my upcoming trip to anyone – waitress, doctor, homeless guy asking me for a quarter – they all tell me that I’m gonna love it. They give me their list of the places we should not miss. They review the old memories of their trip(s). I think I see a glint of envy in their eyes, considering the fact that I (a 65 year old virgin when it comes to the romance of foreign travel) am about to experience The City of Light for the very first time.
We will spend 4 days in Paris before joining our tour, which will travel Northwest to Rouen, Caen, Normandy. Then South to Mont St Michel through Brittany, southeast to Angers, Saumer and Blois which will be our base for excursions in Loire Valley and Chateaux Country. Then North to Chartes and back to Paris. Not counting Air travel days, we will spend 9 days seeing the various sights. I think that will be sufficient.
We will not take cellphones, laptop, ipod or anything else that would invite us to connect with the vast electronic communications network. We are on vacation from all of that, so you will have to get your blogfix somewhere else for the next few weeks.
Au Revior.
----------------------
* Except The Millers, who never go anywhere.
I am excited about being in Paris for the first time in my life. I’m NOT looking forward to the airport scene and long flight on British Airways. In an article in yesterday’s WSJ I read that they (BOA) lost 550,000 pieces of luggage between Jan 1 and June 30. That's 35 out of 1,000, which is worse than the worst American carrier (Northwest).
Travel has become an impossible test of patience and sanity. I think most people who travel regularly need also to drink heavily and take prescription grade drugs to maintain their serenity in the face of the obstacles and foul-ups that have become familiar fodder for comics and blog ranters – Delays, long slow moving lines, security checkpoint inconveniences, cancellations, uncomfortable seats, homely cabin attendants, crappy food, movies that suck, annoying children, smelly fellow travelers, terrorist suicide bombers, and the like.
We keep telling ourselves that the destination is worth the price of getting there. I wonder…
Sometimes it seems everyone else* (tout le monde) has already been to Paris, France. If I mention my upcoming trip to anyone – waitress, doctor, homeless guy asking me for a quarter – they all tell me that I’m gonna love it. They give me their list of the places we should not miss. They review the old memories of their trip(s). I think I see a glint of envy in their eyes, considering the fact that I (a 65 year old virgin when it comes to the romance of foreign travel) am about to experience The City of Light for the very first time.
We will spend 4 days in Paris before joining our tour, which will travel Northwest to Rouen, Caen, Normandy. Then South to Mont St Michel through Brittany, southeast to Angers, Saumer and Blois which will be our base for excursions in Loire Valley and Chateaux Country. Then North to Chartes and back to Paris. Not counting Air travel days, we will spend 9 days seeing the various sights. I think that will be sufficient.
We will not take cellphones, laptop, ipod or anything else that would invite us to connect with the vast electronic communications network. We are on vacation from all of that, so you will have to get your blogfix somewhere else for the next few weeks.
Au Revior.
----------------------
* Except The Millers, who never go anywhere.
8/08/2007
Luck vs Talent
The Accenture ad that ran in a recent issue of WSJ is a great example of marketer bullshit that actually has a grain of truth. There is a full color picture of Tiger Woods after just whacking a stupendous drive down the fairway. The copy says "We know what makes a Tiger. What separates high performers from lesser competitors isn’t just talent. It’s the way they fuse their capability and mindset." The implication is that Tiger-like success is comprised of "50% aptitude and 50% Attitude." One might might quibble with the proportions, but the significant thing here is the acknowledgement that success in Golf (and by implication all success) is a combination of stuff you were lucky enough to be born with (talent or aptitude) and the volition to apply effort in pursuit of a goal (attitude).
When we make a decision to do something, we are committing to an outcome. But it seems to me that the proclivity to make a decision that requires action on our part is native, rather than learned. We develop personalities and attributes that make us more or less unique, but we do not choose these characteristics. Rather, they happen to us.
Am I saying that everything is 100% Luck? Since I believe that aptitude is luck and attitude is luck, I guess I am saying exactly that!
This leads me to the recognition that successful people in this world should be thankful for their incredible luck. The majority of souls who have trod the dusty path of life were born into mean circumstances which virtually doomed them from their first breath.
I think the fundamental difference between Liberals and Conservatives lies in the perception of entitlement. Most conservatives consider themselves to have strong sense of morality and a high respect for fundamental values. They believe themselves to be successful, and ascribe their good fortune to a loyal adherence to "core" values. They seem to believe believe that life is like a game of Monopoly. Everyone gets the same bankroll at the start of the game. If you lose yours, that's too bad, you are out of the game. Hard cheese, old boy. Unfortunate rolls of the dice and all that. You should have bought Park Place when you landed on it.
The few lucky ones who constantly win the game - who achieve a high degree of wealth or status may acknowledge that they are lucky, but many of them seem to feel entitled to good luck, because they earned their positions through hard work, talent and perseverance. They give lip service sympathy to those that are less fortunate, perhaps they contribute to charity, but fundamentally they do not feel guilty about their luck.
Liberals, on the other hand, often seem to feel that they are not worthy of the lucky breaks that they have had. They are more likely to believe that extraordinary abilities and brainpower are mere lucky gifts, not entitlements. They feel that same attitude about people who were born to unlucky circumstances. There but for the grace of god (ie, luck) go I. Liberals really believe that life is a crapgame.
They tend to be kinder to the losers.
Now, that Tiger Woods is one lucky sumbitch. I don’t play golf, nor do I watch it on TV, but I’m sure he is really good at it. I do know that I’ve seen naked pictures of his wife and he is one lucky sumbitch.
.............
Which may or may not lead us to the contemplation of how Luck and/or Talent explains the recent news that former Home Depot CEO Robert Nardelli is now the new Lee Iaccoca at Chrysler. (An honorable Japanese executive would have committed ritual seppuku if they were responsible for such a colossal failure, - wrecking Home Depot and making rival Lowes my personal number one hardware store. In China he would have been executed. But, Lucky Bob was born to run in America. He gets to keep his failure-reward money ($210 Million) and now has a chance to destroy yet another corporation!
I can see Ford and GM executives, gleeful at their incredible luck, slapping each other on the back and toasting Nardelli's appointment with expensive champagne - hoping that he will do the same thing for them that he did for Lowes.
When we make a decision to do something, we are committing to an outcome. But it seems to me that the proclivity to make a decision that requires action on our part is native, rather than learned. We develop personalities and attributes that make us more or less unique, but we do not choose these characteristics. Rather, they happen to us.
Am I saying that everything is 100% Luck? Since I believe that aptitude is luck and attitude is luck, I guess I am saying exactly that!
This leads me to the recognition that successful people in this world should be thankful for their incredible luck. The majority of souls who have trod the dusty path of life were born into mean circumstances which virtually doomed them from their first breath.
I think the fundamental difference between Liberals and Conservatives lies in the perception of entitlement. Most conservatives consider themselves to have strong sense of morality and a high respect for fundamental values. They believe themselves to be successful, and ascribe their good fortune to a loyal adherence to "core" values. They seem to believe believe that life is like a game of Monopoly. Everyone gets the same bankroll at the start of the game. If you lose yours, that's too bad, you are out of the game. Hard cheese, old boy. Unfortunate rolls of the dice and all that. You should have bought Park Place when you landed on it.
The few lucky ones who constantly win the game - who achieve a high degree of wealth or status may acknowledge that they are lucky, but many of them seem to feel entitled to good luck, because they earned their positions through hard work, talent and perseverance. They give lip service sympathy to those that are less fortunate, perhaps they contribute to charity, but fundamentally they do not feel guilty about their luck.
Liberals, on the other hand, often seem to feel that they are not worthy of the lucky breaks that they have had. They are more likely to believe that extraordinary abilities and brainpower are mere lucky gifts, not entitlements. They feel that same attitude about people who were born to unlucky circumstances. There but for the grace of god (ie, luck) go I. Liberals really believe that life is a crapgame.
They tend to be kinder to the losers.
Now, that Tiger Woods is one lucky sumbitch. I don’t play golf, nor do I watch it on TV, but I’m sure he is really good at it. I do know that I’ve seen naked pictures of his wife and he is one lucky sumbitch.
.............
Which may or may not lead us to the contemplation of how Luck and/or Talent explains the recent news that former Home Depot CEO Robert Nardelli is now the new Lee Iaccoca at Chrysler. (An honorable Japanese executive would have committed ritual seppuku if they were responsible for such a colossal failure, - wrecking Home Depot and making rival Lowes my personal number one hardware store. In China he would have been executed. But, Lucky Bob was born to run in America. He gets to keep his failure-reward money ($210 Million) and now has a chance to destroy yet another corporation!
I can see Ford and GM executives, gleeful at their incredible luck, slapping each other on the back and toasting Nardelli's appointment with expensive champagne - hoping that he will do the same thing for them that he did for Lowes.
8/07/2007
Tips on Refreshing Summer Beverages
Iced Tea
One of the things I have never been happy with is home made iced tea. Other people seem to know how to make tasty refreshing tea, but when I make it, the results are always bitter and cloudy. I cannot buy unsweetened/un-lemoned ice tea mix at my grocery store. The powdered stuff they sell makes a beverage that tastes remotely like metallic tea.
So, I decided to Google the words "How to make Iced Tea." I got quite a few hits.
Believe it or not, there are a number of ways to make good old fashioned unsweetened iced tea. One of the things that most aficionados agree on is to warn us against making that Girl Scout favorite "Sun Tea." They say that you cannot find a better medium to grow bacteria than warm water and tea sitting out doors in the hot sun.
So to save you literally minutes of reading, I will let you in on the secret to making iced tea that has eluded me until the other day:
1) Make in small batches to be used today, or tomorrow at latest.
2) Boil 16 0z of cold water; turn off heat add 5 bags or equivalent loose tea.
3) Let steep exactly 5 minutes, pull tea bags (or strain leaves) and save in a cup for 2nd batch.
4) Pour tea into a pitcher that will hold at least a quart, add 8 to 12 oz cold (tap) water.
Letting the tea steep exactly 5 minutes avoids the bitterness of the tea I always made - thinking that the longer the teabags were in the better. That was dumb.
Also letting the tea cool to room temperature before refrigerating seems to avoid the cloudiness. Martha Stewart advises adding a little hot boiling water to clear up cloudy tea.
The key seems to be brewing the tea in small batches of 8-16 oz and then adding water to dilute, rather than brewing a quart of water with 5 or 6 teabags. I re-use the same teabags for a second batch, which I steep for 8 minutes and do not dilute.
5) Pour into an ice filled glass and add lemon juice.
================
Beer
1.Go down to the local store that sells beer.
2.Get you some St. Pauli Girl lager.
3. Pour it into one of them iced glasses that you keep in the freezer door.
4. Go out back, sit in the shade and enjoy the wonderment of fermented malt.
(If you like it a wee bit hoppier and darker, substitute Sierra Nevada Pale Ale for St Pauli Girl.)
Ok I am not turning this into a household tips blog. Back to the search for meaning in work and post working life tomorrow.
One of the things I have never been happy with is home made iced tea. Other people seem to know how to make tasty refreshing tea, but when I make it, the results are always bitter and cloudy. I cannot buy unsweetened/un-lemoned ice tea mix at my grocery store. The powdered stuff they sell makes a beverage that tastes remotely like metallic tea.
So, I decided to Google the words "How to make Iced Tea." I got quite a few hits.
Believe it or not, there are a number of ways to make good old fashioned unsweetened iced tea. One of the things that most aficionados agree on is to warn us against making that Girl Scout favorite "Sun Tea." They say that you cannot find a better medium to grow bacteria than warm water and tea sitting out doors in the hot sun.
So to save you literally minutes of reading, I will let you in on the secret to making iced tea that has eluded me until the other day:
1) Make in small batches to be used today, or tomorrow at latest.
2) Boil 16 0z of cold water; turn off heat add 5 bags or equivalent loose tea.
3) Let steep exactly 5 minutes, pull tea bags (or strain leaves) and save in a cup for 2nd batch.
4) Pour tea into a pitcher that will hold at least a quart, add 8 to 12 oz cold (tap) water.
Letting the tea steep exactly 5 minutes avoids the bitterness of the tea I always made - thinking that the longer the teabags were in the better. That was dumb.
Also letting the tea cool to room temperature before refrigerating seems to avoid the cloudiness. Martha Stewart advises adding a little hot boiling water to clear up cloudy tea.
The key seems to be brewing the tea in small batches of 8-16 oz and then adding water to dilute, rather than brewing a quart of water with 5 or 6 teabags. I re-use the same teabags for a second batch, which I steep for 8 minutes and do not dilute.
5) Pour into an ice filled glass and add lemon juice.
================
Beer
1.Go down to the local store that sells beer.
2.Get you some St. Pauli Girl lager.
3. Pour it into one of them iced glasses that you keep in the freezer door.
4. Go out back, sit in the shade and enjoy the wonderment of fermented malt.
(If you like it a wee bit hoppier and darker, substitute Sierra Nevada Pale Ale for St Pauli Girl.)
Ok I am not turning this into a household tips blog. Back to the search for meaning in work and post working life tomorrow.
7/28/2007
Random Musings
The other night, Jay Leno joked that when doctors performed the recent colonoscopy on George Bush they found his head.
I cannot recall another sitting President being mocked so irreverently. Not since Bill Clinton's oval office oral follies. Other senior members of past and present governments (of both parties) have been comedy fodder for their antics, and have been mocked and derided as they have justly deserved.
What does it say about us as an electorate, that we cannot find men (or women) who bring a sense of dignity and who instill in us some semblence of collective pride for our leadership?
I have never been a Newt Gingrich fan, but recently he has been making a lot of sense, compared to the declared candidates. I admire him for commenting that he would not participate in a Utube debate hosted by lightweights like Anderson Cooper, raising hands to ridiculous questions about topics as weighty as whether they wear briefs or boxers.
===
Today is the 1 year anniversary of my abstinence from alcohol. I can distinctly recall that last frosty beer - more accurately, a Bass ale - which I quaffed with friends at Cobblestone's tavern in Lowell. It was the Saturday schedule of the Lowell Folk Festival and, as always, it was a wicked hot day. We ventured to the tavern for food and drink, as I refuse to eat anything offered by any outdoor food vendors who do not have access to running water. (I always imagine botulism and coliform bacteria dripping from their unsanitary paws.)
The tavern was cool and dark. A welcome refuge from the dazzling sun and humidity of the air outside. Although I was feeling a bit lightheaded, I enjoyed a burger and two lovely beers.
Two days later, I was in a hospital room getting 2 units of blood. They called it a bleeding ulcer.
They made me promise to stop drinking alcohol and to stop taking Aleve. I promised to stop for 1 year. I have kept that promise.
I cannot recall another sitting President being mocked so irreverently. Not since Bill Clinton's oval office oral follies. Other senior members of past and present governments (of both parties) have been comedy fodder for their antics, and have been mocked and derided as they have justly deserved.
What does it say about us as an electorate, that we cannot find men (or women) who bring a sense of dignity and who instill in us some semblence of collective pride for our leadership?
I have never been a Newt Gingrich fan, but recently he has been making a lot of sense, compared to the declared candidates. I admire him for commenting that he would not participate in a Utube debate hosted by lightweights like Anderson Cooper, raising hands to ridiculous questions about topics as weighty as whether they wear briefs or boxers.
===
Today is the 1 year anniversary of my abstinence from alcohol. I can distinctly recall that last frosty beer - more accurately, a Bass ale - which I quaffed with friends at Cobblestone's tavern in Lowell. It was the Saturday schedule of the Lowell Folk Festival and, as always, it was a wicked hot day. We ventured to the tavern for food and drink, as I refuse to eat anything offered by any outdoor food vendors who do not have access to running water. (I always imagine botulism and coliform bacteria dripping from their unsanitary paws.)
The tavern was cool and dark. A welcome refuge from the dazzling sun and humidity of the air outside. Although I was feeling a bit lightheaded, I enjoyed a burger and two lovely beers.
Two days later, I was in a hospital room getting 2 units of blood. They called it a bleeding ulcer.
They made me promise to stop drinking alcohol and to stop taking Aleve. I promised to stop for 1 year. I have kept that promise.
7/24/2007
Walking Around Thoughts
It is so easy to find excuses not to exercise that it is scary. My logical brain knows that the body needs daily exercise. I have read about several recent studies that link physical exercise with healthy minds in seniors. The studies say that it's not doing crossword puzzles and watching Jeopardy on TV that keeps people mentally sharp; it's physical activity. Yet, even though I believe these findings, my innate indolence is often overpowering.
We are planning a trip to France in September, and I need to get this aging corpus back in condition for lots of walking around. So, I have been making more of a concerted effort to get out on that "daily" walk -- instead of piddling around, reading the papers, weeding and watering the garden, checking our investments online (ie, anything that will keep me from getting out and sweating in the summer heat). For the past week I have been more disciplined, and have managed to walk everyday. I do what I call the "long walk" which is about 2 miles plus and takes between 40 and 50 minutes depending on factors such as people stopping me to ask directions and chatting with fellow health enthusiasts or dog-walkers who I might meet along the way.
I call the regular route "the long walk;" My wife calls it "The Bataan Death March, " on those occasions that I have inveigled her to join me - usually on a Saturday or Sunday. She is still working a 4 day week, which is effectively full-time. It is not practical for her to take a long walk every day. On weekends, she is more disposed to walk, but her aim is relaxation more than exercise. I confess that I am too usually impatient to wait for her to get ready and I am more predisposed to activity that involves sweat than she.
The amazing thing is when we travel she will be able to "keep up" with me, and moreover she will be out seeing the sights while I am napping at the hotel. She derives a mystical energy from travel, and draws magnetic stamina from the historical works of art and culture. These things make me tired.
We travel very well together - she decides what famous sights or museum we will visit; if I get bored or tired I just find a bench and entertain myself watching the other people.
So it happens that I usually take my walks solo. As I walk the familiar route, It is my job as a writer to notice things: I keep tabs on ongoing construction projects, whose lawn needs mowing, any attractive new females along the route, etc.
Some residents seem to be spending lavish sums on beautification - unnecessary and expensive ways to advertise one's wealth. Things like high end fences and stone walls. Or a detached garage made of granite blocks. Don't get me wrong, If I had a lot of wealth I - no doubt - would be as conspicuous as the next rich guy. I don't make judgements about how people spend their dough, as long as they earned it. I do make judgements about some of the things some people do to other people to earn money. (See previous recommendations to apply capital punishment to white collar crime.)
Modest personal circumstances allow me to empathise with folks who don't drive brand new cars, who cannot blithely start a renovation project, who worry about tax increases and inflation, whose only remote hope of experiencing a life of luxury is represented by a mega millions lottery ticket.
Invariably, one of the routine stops on my walks is the convenience store. I plunk down my dollar, and on the way back I enjoy the briefly held hope that I am carrying a winning ticket. I plan the Boston Whaler that I will buy and tie-up to my sumptious home with waterfront dock in Martha's Vineyard. I imagine myself dressed in a new golf outfit belonging to the local country club blasting bad shots into the woods and not giving a crap how much the balls cost. Hey for a buck, it's a cheap way of exploring an agreeable fantasy.
We are planning a trip to France in September, and I need to get this aging corpus back in condition for lots of walking around. So, I have been making more of a concerted effort to get out on that "daily" walk -- instead of piddling around, reading the papers, weeding and watering the garden, checking our investments online (ie, anything that will keep me from getting out and sweating in the summer heat). For the past week I have been more disciplined, and have managed to walk everyday. I do what I call the "long walk" which is about 2 miles plus and takes between 40 and 50 minutes depending on factors such as people stopping me to ask directions and chatting with fellow health enthusiasts or dog-walkers who I might meet along the way.
I call the regular route "the long walk;" My wife calls it "The Bataan Death March, " on those occasions that I have inveigled her to join me - usually on a Saturday or Sunday. She is still working a 4 day week, which is effectively full-time. It is not practical for her to take a long walk every day. On weekends, she is more disposed to walk, but her aim is relaxation more than exercise. I confess that I am too usually impatient to wait for her to get ready and I am more predisposed to activity that involves sweat than she.
The amazing thing is when we travel she will be able to "keep up" with me, and moreover she will be out seeing the sights while I am napping at the hotel. She derives a mystical energy from travel, and draws magnetic stamina from the historical works of art and culture. These things make me tired.
We travel very well together - she decides what famous sights or museum we will visit; if I get bored or tired I just find a bench and entertain myself watching the other people.
So it happens that I usually take my walks solo. As I walk the familiar route, It is my job as a writer to notice things: I keep tabs on ongoing construction projects, whose lawn needs mowing, any attractive new females along the route, etc.
Some residents seem to be spending lavish sums on beautification - unnecessary and expensive ways to advertise one's wealth. Things like high end fences and stone walls. Or a detached garage made of granite blocks. Don't get me wrong, If I had a lot of wealth I - no doubt - would be as conspicuous as the next rich guy. I don't make judgements about how people spend their dough, as long as they earned it. I do make judgements about some of the things some people do to other people to earn money. (See previous recommendations to apply capital punishment to white collar crime.)
Modest personal circumstances allow me to empathise with folks who don't drive brand new cars, who cannot blithely start a renovation project, who worry about tax increases and inflation, whose only remote hope of experiencing a life of luxury is represented by a mega millions lottery ticket.
Invariably, one of the routine stops on my walks is the convenience store. I plunk down my dollar, and on the way back I enjoy the briefly held hope that I am carrying a winning ticket. I plan the Boston Whaler that I will buy and tie-up to my sumptious home with waterfront dock in Martha's Vineyard. I imagine myself dressed in a new golf outfit belonging to the local country club blasting bad shots into the woods and not giving a crap how much the balls cost. Hey for a buck, it's a cheap way of exploring an agreeable fantasy.
7/23/2007
Not Safe to Turn on the TV Set
I am keeping the TV shut off for a few days. There are two things that I am trying to avoid looking at and hearing about these days. One is the enormous and confounding hype surrounding the New Harry Potter book and movie. The Second is the ghastly image of Tammy Fae Bakker in her final interview with Larry King.
In the first case, I am confounded because who - except for kids and a few adult fantasy geeks - gives a sweet crap? I have not read any Harry Potter books, and probably will not find a good reason to pick one up in the unforseeable future. I did see the first movie and parts of one of the others, mainly watching with my grandkids... Good kids' entertainment, but why does every talking head on TV and radio think the release of the last* book in the series is really important news for normal adults? I guess it's called marketing buzz - you get everyone talking about the latest hip thing and then people will turn into mindless zombie consumers and even stand in line for days to get it. Is this what the founding fathers were imagining when they created the Bill of Rights?
The second thing that I am trying to avoid is seeing pictures of the ghostly (and now, mercifully defunct) Tammy Fae of Jim and Tammy Fae fame. You remember them back in the 80's when they were notoriously successful Televangelists. Remember PTL? She was noted for her large French whore phony eyelashes, and pudgy cheeks. He was best remembered as the church secretary shtupper and embezzler of church funds to provide hush money. The Bakkers were brought down from their golden hippocritical thrones and made to wallow in shame when his crimes were revealed by the shtuppee, Jessica Hahn who went on to become a Playboy Playmate (and a regular guest on the Howard Stern Show). He did jail time. Tammy Fae divorced him but got custody of her fake Eyelashes.
So it was with horror that I was assailed with a brief clip of Larry King's interview with the wasted 60 pound husk of Tammy Fae, now 66 years old and dying of cancer. Someone allowed her to go before a camera with the heavy eyelashes and red makeup that made her look grotesque, to put it kindly. If you did not see it, count your self lucky; it would haunt your worst dreams. I condemn everyone involved with that program as sheer freak show purveyers. I think I can safely say that the founding fathers would have disapproved as well.
Take my advice and keep your TV off for a few more days.
===================
*After the return of Rocky, and Superman, how can we ever feel safe that a series will ever truly terminate?
In the first case, I am confounded because who - except for kids and a few adult fantasy geeks - gives a sweet crap? I have not read any Harry Potter books, and probably will not find a good reason to pick one up in the unforseeable future. I did see the first movie and parts of one of the others, mainly watching with my grandkids... Good kids' entertainment, but why does every talking head on TV and radio think the release of the last* book in the series is really important news for normal adults? I guess it's called marketing buzz - you get everyone talking about the latest hip thing and then people will turn into mindless zombie consumers and even stand in line for days to get it. Is this what the founding fathers were imagining when they created the Bill of Rights?
The second thing that I am trying to avoid is seeing pictures of the ghostly (and now, mercifully defunct) Tammy Fae of Jim and Tammy Fae fame. You remember them back in the 80's when they were notoriously successful Televangelists. Remember PTL? She was noted for her large French whore phony eyelashes, and pudgy cheeks. He was best remembered as the church secretary shtupper and embezzler of church funds to provide hush money. The Bakkers were brought down from their golden hippocritical thrones and made to wallow in shame when his crimes were revealed by the shtuppee, Jessica Hahn who went on to become a Playboy Playmate (and a regular guest on the Howard Stern Show). He did jail time. Tammy Fae divorced him but got custody of her fake Eyelashes.
So it was with horror that I was assailed with a brief clip of Larry King's interview with the wasted 60 pound husk of Tammy Fae, now 66 years old and dying of cancer. Someone allowed her to go before a camera with the heavy eyelashes and red makeup that made her look grotesque, to put it kindly. If you did not see it, count your self lucky; it would haunt your worst dreams. I condemn everyone involved with that program as sheer freak show purveyers. I think I can safely say that the founding fathers would have disapproved as well.
Take my advice and keep your TV off for a few more days.
===================
*After the return of Rocky, and Superman, how can we ever feel safe that a series will ever truly terminate?
7/12/2007
A never ending battle for truth, justice, and the American way.
Superman would be proud.
South Dakota carried out its first execution in 60 years yesterday. The confessed dirtbag probably could have avoided his just punishment if he had mounted any sort of appeal. Perhaps the only honorable act of his life was to ask the state to put him out of his misery.
Bleeding heart liberals (like my friend Rick) are so mistrusting of the American justice system that they would rather let 99 bad guys go free to re-offend rather than risk hanging one innocent man.
He comments that my plan to hang white collar criminals would result in "more innocent executions," without acknowledging that the plan would succeed in its chief objective: To deter megatheivery and corruption.
Rick and his ACL pals are not looking out for the interests of their fellow citizens. They consistently give the benefit of the doubt to the crook rather than the cops, citing that the perp came from a broken home, or dropped-out of high school, or was some other sort of societal victim. Racked with guilt over their own fortuitous affluence, they opine from the security of their toney crime free-communities, saying, "Give the crooks, (oops i mean alleged crooks) another chance."
But, ultra-lefties (like Rick) would afford the same hand wringing, hyper-sympathetic attitude towards the so-called best and brightest, who cynically use their positions of privilege and power to wet-hump the American public?
In the past decade We have had numerous examples of CEOs who flaunted laws and decency to feather their own nests. Corporate looter Ken Lay of Enron fame is probably the poster boy of mega-thievery, but there were many other cases: Polaroid, Worldcom, Tyco, Adelphia.
And, who can deny that the government is generously populated with career white collar criminals whose job is to look out for us, but who are willing to look the other way when their palms are greased. Look at all the politicians who had to resign because they got caught with a hand in the cookie jar: William Jefferson (the rep from New Orleans who kept bribe money in his freezer), and Randy Duke Cunningham (the California rep who took bribes) are just a couple of current cases were public trust has been abbrogated.
Are these not criminals all - who deserve to hang?
=========
Yesterday, The Boston Herald ran a story on a local judge that was so arrogant that he wrote letters to the paper's publisher, demanding a bribe of more than $3 million to make a libel case against the Herald go away. The paper gleefully printed photocopy excerpts of the judge's letters which were handwritten on court stationery.
The news story said that the ethics panel was "looking into the matter." How come the extortionist is not in jail? We dont need a trial here - the judge's handwriting convicts him!
My friend Clooney asserts that the second ammendment of the Constitution provides for relief when the government fails in its duties. Shouldn't some mob be formed to go down to the Judge's mansion and get some of the money back?
Then there is the "Pants Suit" story from a few weeks ago about Judge Pearson from Chicago, who sued a dry cleaner for $65 million over a lost pair of pants. This is a prime example which demonstrates the egregious misuse of the justice system by smart greedy sociopaths.
A case that deserves Capital Punishment? Who do we trust to decide?
South Dakota carried out its first execution in 60 years yesterday. The confessed dirtbag probably could have avoided his just punishment if he had mounted any sort of appeal. Perhaps the only honorable act of his life was to ask the state to put him out of his misery.
Bleeding heart liberals (like my friend Rick) are so mistrusting of the American justice system that they would rather let 99 bad guys go free to re-offend rather than risk hanging one innocent man.
He comments that my plan to hang white collar criminals would result in "more innocent executions," without acknowledging that the plan would succeed in its chief objective: To deter megatheivery and corruption.
Rick and his ACL pals are not looking out for the interests of their fellow citizens. They consistently give the benefit of the doubt to the crook rather than the cops, citing that the perp came from a broken home, or dropped-out of high school, or was some other sort of societal victim. Racked with guilt over their own fortuitous affluence, they opine from the security of their toney crime free-communities, saying, "Give the crooks, (oops i mean alleged crooks) another chance."
But, ultra-lefties (like Rick) would afford the same hand wringing, hyper-sympathetic attitude towards the so-called best and brightest, who cynically use their positions of privilege and power to wet-hump the American public?
In the past decade We have had numerous examples of CEOs who flaunted laws and decency to feather their own nests. Corporate looter Ken Lay of Enron fame is probably the poster boy of mega-thievery, but there were many other cases: Polaroid, Worldcom, Tyco, Adelphia.
And, who can deny that the government is generously populated with career white collar criminals whose job is to look out for us, but who are willing to look the other way when their palms are greased. Look at all the politicians who had to resign because they got caught with a hand in the cookie jar: William Jefferson (the rep from New Orleans who kept bribe money in his freezer), and Randy Duke Cunningham (the California rep who took bribes) are just a couple of current cases were public trust has been abbrogated.
Are these not criminals all - who deserve to hang?
=========
Yesterday, The Boston Herald ran a story on a local judge that was so arrogant that he wrote letters to the paper's publisher, demanding a bribe of more than $3 million to make a libel case against the Herald go away. The paper gleefully printed photocopy excerpts of the judge's letters which were handwritten on court stationery.
The news story said that the ethics panel was "looking into the matter." How come the extortionist is not in jail? We dont need a trial here - the judge's handwriting convicts him!
My friend Clooney asserts that the second ammendment of the Constitution provides for relief when the government fails in its duties. Shouldn't some mob be formed to go down to the Judge's mansion and get some of the money back?
Then there is the "Pants Suit" story from a few weeks ago about Judge Pearson from Chicago, who sued a dry cleaner for $65 million over a lost pair of pants. This is a prime example which demonstrates the egregious misuse of the justice system by smart greedy sociopaths.
A case that deserves Capital Punishment? Who do we trust to decide?
7/11/2007
Raising the Bar
I think China has raised the bar of justice a few notches with news of the latest execution of a former food and drug official who took bribes when he was supposed to be watchdogging.
Some people think the death penalty may be too harsh a punishment for bribery, but if you think about it unpunished corruption is the bane of civilization. In addition, several recent studies have defied popular thinking, confirming that the death penalty IS A DETERRENT. (I know, from personal experience, that I would have strangled more people to death if I did not fear capital punishment.)
Those anal retentive anti-junk science pundits who insist that the clinical studies were methodologically flawed need to wake up and smell the coffee. Some facts are simply true despite the lack of "scientific" evidence.
Look at all the people who believe in "Chi" - the life force that guides the feng shui school of thinking and is a fundamental element in the rationale for how acupuncture works.
Scientists cannot find a shred of evidence to validate the existence of Chi, yet zillions of people believe it to be a palpable physical force. So science is clearly nothing but a bunch of crap on a stick.
Besides, most of the arguments that you hear about the death penalty for the crime of murder are rebutted by the belief that murder is irrational and unmeditated; thus the perp is not thinking about punishment.
The fallacy of modern civilization is reserving capital punishment for violent offenses, and wrist slapping of crooks who merely steal millions of dollars from needy citizens. I propose that if we need anymore laws, it should be to cause more mega-thieves to be hung or shot. And those who abbrogate the public trust.
Yes, we need to "China-up" on some of our government and political crooks. I guarantee that Capital Punishment will be a deterrent to "white collar" crimes.
Some people think the death penalty may be too harsh a punishment for bribery, but if you think about it unpunished corruption is the bane of civilization. In addition, several recent studies have defied popular thinking, confirming that the death penalty IS A DETERRENT. (I know, from personal experience, that I would have strangled more people to death if I did not fear capital punishment.)
Those anal retentive anti-junk science pundits who insist that the clinical studies were methodologically flawed need to wake up and smell the coffee. Some facts are simply true despite the lack of "scientific" evidence.
Look at all the people who believe in "Chi" - the life force that guides the feng shui school of thinking and is a fundamental element in the rationale for how acupuncture works.
Scientists cannot find a shred of evidence to validate the existence of Chi, yet zillions of people believe it to be a palpable physical force. So science is clearly nothing but a bunch of crap on a stick.
Besides, most of the arguments that you hear about the death penalty for the crime of murder are rebutted by the belief that murder is irrational and unmeditated; thus the perp is not thinking about punishment.
The fallacy of modern civilization is reserving capital punishment for violent offenses, and wrist slapping of crooks who merely steal millions of dollars from needy citizens. I propose that if we need anymore laws, it should be to cause more mega-thieves to be hung or shot. And those who abbrogate the public trust.
Yes, we need to "China-up" on some of our government and political crooks. I guarantee that Capital Punishment will be a deterrent to "white collar" crimes.
7/10/2007
Anchor Shredding the Lead
Apparently, I am not the only one who thinks "the news" ought to be about important events and people.
Click Here
Click Here
6/18/2007
Why I stopped watching TV News
“You won’t believe what neighbors found when they looked in the windows of this house,” the teaser says and we see a “live” shot of a nice white house on a suburban lot. Stay tuned to Live on 5. (Cut to commercial)
[click to channel 7]
A sultry weather babe with bodacious ta-tas exclaims with a worried look “Tornadoes headed for your backyard?” Stay tuned for a full report.
[click]
And so it goes through the rest of the so-called news program. What is presented to us as a news weather and sports program has evolved into a mélange of infotainment snippets, which seem to be comprised of mostly teasers, urging us not to switch the channel: “Wait till you hear what this woman had to say after she was found working in a meatpacking plant in Chicago after being missing for twenty years…”
Getting their cues from supermarket tabloid headlines, the modern day news programmers have strayed pretty far from the traditional role of presenting news as ‘just the facts ma’m’. Now, the weather is news. The Red Sox is news. Gossip is news. Speculation is news. Paris Hilton is news..
[click][click][click][click]
Pundits assure us that everyone wants to know about Paris Hilton’s bowel movements in the county jail, and remember just a few weeks ago, the world watched with great anticipation to learn the identity of the father of Anna Nicole Smith’s money child.
I don’t think most of the people, who tuned in to the news because they are wondering ‘what’s going on in the world,’ care a fig about such gossipy items.
I could be wrong on that. A lot of young people I know will actually admit that they watch programs like American Idol and Survivor. I guess seeing what dolts other people are can be comforting to an ordinary person struggling with a lousy work situation and the extraordinary demands of raising a family.
I don’t watch much TV anymore. I wish I could say that I am doing something noble with my time like reading great works of literature, or working on my novel, or helping the needy. But, no. I just putter around the yard, cursing the rodents that gnaw on my marigolds trying to invent a device that will be as efficient as an outdoor cat at diminishing the exploding population of squirrels chipmunks and rabbits...
I had an Elmer Fudd moment the other evening. when I saw a small waskally wabbit nibbling at the yellow marigolds I had recently planted (to fill-in spots where other flowers had been eaten)... Enraged, I picked up a rock and threw it hard at the rabbit. Amazingly, the rock struck the unsuspecting rabbit on the head and it keeled over, like a dishrag. Feeling a mixture of guilt and satisfaction, I removed the carcass to the compost heap. (Before you gasp in horror, I must admit that the rock apparently just knocked the rabbit unconscious, because when I came back from the shed with a shovel to bury it, the bunny was gone.)
Good thing the neighbor kids weren’t outside. If they had seen me they would probably have called the Animal Planet cops to turn me in for animal cruelty.
I can see the 10 Oclock news tease: “ Is this man (Mug shot of me) going to be Paris Hilton’s new cellmate? Stay tuned to find out.”
[click]
[click to channel 7]
A sultry weather babe with bodacious ta-tas exclaims with a worried look “Tornadoes headed for your backyard?” Stay tuned for a full report.
[click]
And so it goes through the rest of the so-called news program. What is presented to us as a news weather and sports program has evolved into a mélange of infotainment snippets, which seem to be comprised of mostly teasers, urging us not to switch the channel: “Wait till you hear what this woman had to say after she was found working in a meatpacking plant in Chicago after being missing for twenty years…”
Getting their cues from supermarket tabloid headlines, the modern day news programmers have strayed pretty far from the traditional role of presenting news as ‘just the facts ma’m’. Now, the weather is news. The Red Sox is news. Gossip is news. Speculation is news. Paris Hilton is news..
[click][click][click][click]
Pundits assure us that everyone wants to know about Paris Hilton’s bowel movements in the county jail, and remember just a few weeks ago, the world watched with great anticipation to learn the identity of the father of Anna Nicole Smith’s money child.
I don’t think most of the people, who tuned in to the news because they are wondering ‘what’s going on in the world,’ care a fig about such gossipy items.
I could be wrong on that. A lot of young people I know will actually admit that they watch programs like American Idol and Survivor. I guess seeing what dolts other people are can be comforting to an ordinary person struggling with a lousy work situation and the extraordinary demands of raising a family.
I don’t watch much TV anymore. I wish I could say that I am doing something noble with my time like reading great works of literature, or working on my novel, or helping the needy. But, no. I just putter around the yard, cursing the rodents that gnaw on my marigolds trying to invent a device that will be as efficient as an outdoor cat at diminishing the exploding population of squirrels chipmunks and rabbits...
I had an Elmer Fudd moment the other evening. when I saw a small waskally wabbit nibbling at the yellow marigolds I had recently planted (to fill-in spots where other flowers had been eaten)... Enraged, I picked up a rock and threw it hard at the rabbit. Amazingly, the rock struck the unsuspecting rabbit on the head and it keeled over, like a dishrag. Feeling a mixture of guilt and satisfaction, I removed the carcass to the compost heap. (Before you gasp in horror, I must admit that the rock apparently just knocked the rabbit unconscious, because when I came back from the shed with a shovel to bury it, the bunny was gone.)
Good thing the neighbor kids weren’t outside. If they had seen me they would probably have called the Animal Planet cops to turn me in for animal cruelty.
I can see the 10 Oclock news tease: “ Is this man (Mug shot of me) going to be Paris Hilton’s new cellmate? Stay tuned to find out.”
[click]
6/04/2007
How The Dems lost the Election Last Night
After watching the debate last night, I think I am voting for a Republican in the next election. When asked if they would support a measure to declare English the official language of the United States, only one candidate (the loony comic relief character from Alaska) raised his hand.
It suddenly struck me that there is not a credible Leader among them.
I am neither xenophobic nor nationalistic, but it seems to me that it just makes sense to carry on the business of the government in the national language of its citizens. I am firmly against giving welfare hand-outs to non-citizens. Instead of being an expression of mercy, free stuff is just an incentive for people to line-up here, rather than fixing the system in the country they escaped from.
English is the language of our constitution, our laws and our public discourse. How can anyone vote intelligently if they are not versed in the issues, the positions or the facts?
I have no real problem subsidizing the gas company’s costs to publish it’s safety warnings in multiple languages, but I do object to the practice of the government publishing applications for benefits, ballots, and voting instructions in 36 languages. Why do we want to encourage people who are too ignorant or lazy to learn English to participate in our elections?
The US does not want or need another president whose appeal is that he is “not as bad as the other guys.” We need a real Leader and common sense problem solver.
It is clear that the majority of the Democratic candidates think that the only way they can win is to appeal to the vast numbers of immigrants (and others who depend on the largess of the American welfare state.)
They are collectively soft on the issue of illegal immigration and not one of them convinced me that they had a plan that would work to secure our borders and to create a dis-incentive against future invasions. The simple solution is not to split up families, but to induce families to go back where they are citizens. Maybe they could work to improve their own countries?
The simple statement of policy I want to hear is: US Citizenship is only for babies of US citizens or those who go through the naturalization process. Voting should be for non-criminal Citizens who can demonstrate proficiency in English. Welfare is for citizens. Social Security is for people who contributed to the system.
I see that none of the Democratic candidates really has the will or desire to seriously deal with the illegal problem. None really wants to beef-up the border enforcement, force non citizens to register, fund the administration of enforcement and deportation of those aliens who commit additional crimes in the US.
Is there a non-English speaking country that prints their welfare literature in English for their American “guests”?
It suddenly struck me that there is not a credible Leader among them.
I am neither xenophobic nor nationalistic, but it seems to me that it just makes sense to carry on the business of the government in the national language of its citizens. I am firmly against giving welfare hand-outs to non-citizens. Instead of being an expression of mercy, free stuff is just an incentive for people to line-up here, rather than fixing the system in the country they escaped from.
English is the language of our constitution, our laws and our public discourse. How can anyone vote intelligently if they are not versed in the issues, the positions or the facts?
I have no real problem subsidizing the gas company’s costs to publish it’s safety warnings in multiple languages, but I do object to the practice of the government publishing applications for benefits, ballots, and voting instructions in 36 languages. Why do we want to encourage people who are too ignorant or lazy to learn English to participate in our elections?
The US does not want or need another president whose appeal is that he is “not as bad as the other guys.” We need a real Leader and common sense problem solver.
It is clear that the majority of the Democratic candidates think that the only way they can win is to appeal to the vast numbers of immigrants (and others who depend on the largess of the American welfare state.)
They are collectively soft on the issue of illegal immigration and not one of them convinced me that they had a plan that would work to secure our borders and to create a dis-incentive against future invasions. The simple solution is not to split up families, but to induce families to go back where they are citizens. Maybe they could work to improve their own countries?
The simple statement of policy I want to hear is: US Citizenship is only for babies of US citizens or those who go through the naturalization process. Voting should be for non-criminal Citizens who can demonstrate proficiency in English. Welfare is for citizens. Social Security is for people who contributed to the system.
I see that none of the Democratic candidates really has the will or desire to seriously deal with the illegal problem. None really wants to beef-up the border enforcement, force non citizens to register, fund the administration of enforcement and deportation of those aliens who commit additional crimes in the US.
Is there a non-English speaking country that prints their welfare literature in English for their American “guests”?
5/29/2007
Happy Memorial Day
The greeting, "Happy Memorial Day," always strikes me as ironic. I know it is intended to say "Enjoy the Holiday weekend," but it seems odd, like saying "Have a nice funeral."
Sometimes we forget the original purpose of the day: to remember those who died in service to their country. It is hard to fathom the incredible sacrifice made by these human beings to advance a concept called liberty. Many of those who died never got to be heroes - they were killed on the beaches of Normandy before they even got a shot off, or, blasted by a roadside bomb in Iraq, or asleep in a barrack in Beirut. Still, we rightfully honor them all for going out into the world to fight "for their country."
Those of us who are lucky enough not to have our asses shot at, can opine and pontificate about the political reasons behind war, but as Cindy Sheehan has discovered, the world is a complicated place. The enemy of your enemy is not necessarily your friend. Disillusioned by the antiwar industrial complex, the self styled attention whore is abandoning the peace movement to try and get her life back. She declares that her son "died for nothing."
In contrast, I recently saw a documentary about life in the Palestinian territory. One man was asked if he would want his son to become a militant fighter. The video showed the kid who was was 4 years old, cute and happily playing kickball with his siblings. The dad said that he would be honored to have this boy - his son - become a martyr. It was shocking and sad to think that a father could be eager to make such a sacrifice.
There was a time when some of us actually thought that peace in the world was possible. I seem to recall having that feeling very briefly when the Soviet Union collapsed. Then we discovered that the positive effect of totalitarianism was that it suppressed civil/ethnic squabbles. Without the harsh rule of an invading empire, tribes and villages will resume fighting with each other.
In one sense the kids who died in wars did not die in vain. Collectively, through their sacrifice, they probably helped to preserve a "peaceful" way of life for the rest of us - so we could go about our lives, getting and spending, having cook-outs, with uninterrupted TV programming and texting on our blackberries. We need to thank them because we are not living in dirt floor huts with government loudspeakers on every corner.
Yesterday was the commercial day-off from the workaday world. Tomorrow is the traditional observance of Memorial Day.
A day for each of us to ask ourselves "Are we willing sacrifice our lives (or those of our children) to keep religious nuts from killing each other?" Would we not be better off to just let them fight?
5/16/2007
You can do it; we can help.
In today's news, Home Depot reports a 30% decline in first quarter 2007 profits. The recently appointed CEO attributes the loss to a softened housing market. He also blames the weather (?).
As a recent customer of Home Depot, I can tell you what the problem is: They suck.
My ongoing experience with HD has been deteriorating over the years. Gone are the knowledgeable and helpful folks with the orange aprons who seemed to enjoy their work and were glad to see you. Now the employees are sparse and seem to avoid eye contact so they can escape your enquiring mind.
I suppose I should be going to the new Lowes, but it is another mile down the road.
The customer service desk is a joke. Some of the people don't even speak well the language. They constantly mispronounce your name. It takes several phone calls to transact the most basic business, and they clearly do not know what is going on.
The longest lines are not at checkout but at the returns desk.
This is a classic case where the new CEO should go "walking around." He should ask his aunt to go in and try to buy window blinds or a rug. His aunt will most certainly report that it is a harrowing experience - one that she WILL NOT WANT TO REPEAT.
The stores are chaotic; the seasonal or special display areas are overstocked and difficult to navigate with a carriage. Employees are uncertain and in short supply. The plant stock is tired looking. (We bought some indoor ornamentals last year. Great price. Shortly after we got them home, they began to show delayed signs of poor care. Today one is dead and the other still looks stunted. So, despite the great price what are the odds that we will buy more plants at HD? )
Their inventory situation is strange. Several times recently I could not get to the item I was interested in because either there was stuff piled in the way, or the gate to the aisle was closed.
A few weeks ago, I was looking for lime. There was a pallet full of bags o' lime on the second shelf but none that you could reach. I could not find anyone to help and even after i got someone in another dept to page a garden shop employee, no one showed up and I left the store without buying anything.
Undaunted, I bought a new propane grille the other day. The price was excellent and they offered to assemble the unit for no additional charge. The HD guy who I spoke to wrote the SKU on a piece of paper and told me to order it at the service desk, which I did after waiting for my turn in a well populated line. Although I asked several times, no one could tell me when to pick up the assembled grille. When I got home I noticed that there was a ready-by date on the order form (which incidentally must have been designed by and for chimpanzees). After a few days I called the desk to see if my grille was done. She could not say but would call me right back. 4 hours later, I received a voice message on the home phone from the HD service desk. The woman's accent was so thick that I could not understand the message, but I assumed it was to tell me that the grille was ready. (yo gree e eey fo u peeuh)
When I arrived at the store, it took half an hour to find the assembled grille. The service desk did not know where they kept the assembled grilles. Finally someone came out pushing a grille with my name on it. But he was not able to help put it in my van. Finally we wrangled a few guys to help me put the grille in my Caravan.
During the time I was waiting in line, I gathered from my fellow customers that they too were harboring strong feelings of dis-satisfaction. When I mentioned that they did not seem to know what they were doing, one guy agreed. "It takes two trips to get anything done right - and three phone calls."
So next time I think I need some hardware items, I'm thinking that maybe Lowes isn't so far after all.
As a recent customer of Home Depot, I can tell you what the problem is: They suck.
My ongoing experience with HD has been deteriorating over the years. Gone are the knowledgeable and helpful folks with the orange aprons who seemed to enjoy their work and were glad to see you. Now the employees are sparse and seem to avoid eye contact so they can escape your enquiring mind.
I suppose I should be going to the new Lowes, but it is another mile down the road.
The customer service desk is a joke. Some of the people don't even speak well the language. They constantly mispronounce your name. It takes several phone calls to transact the most basic business, and they clearly do not know what is going on.
The longest lines are not at checkout but at the returns desk.
This is a classic case where the new CEO should go "walking around." He should ask his aunt to go in and try to buy window blinds or a rug. His aunt will most certainly report that it is a harrowing experience - one that she WILL NOT WANT TO REPEAT.
The stores are chaotic; the seasonal or special display areas are overstocked and difficult to navigate with a carriage. Employees are uncertain and in short supply. The plant stock is tired looking. (We bought some indoor ornamentals last year. Great price. Shortly after we got them home, they began to show delayed signs of poor care. Today one is dead and the other still looks stunted. So, despite the great price what are the odds that we will buy more plants at HD? )
Their inventory situation is strange. Several times recently I could not get to the item I was interested in because either there was stuff piled in the way, or the gate to the aisle was closed.
A few weeks ago, I was looking for lime. There was a pallet full of bags o' lime on the second shelf but none that you could reach. I could not find anyone to help and even after i got someone in another dept to page a garden shop employee, no one showed up and I left the store without buying anything.
Undaunted, I bought a new propane grille the other day. The price was excellent and they offered to assemble the unit for no additional charge. The HD guy who I spoke to wrote the SKU on a piece of paper and told me to order it at the service desk, which I did after waiting for my turn in a well populated line. Although I asked several times, no one could tell me when to pick up the assembled grille. When I got home I noticed that there was a ready-by date on the order form (which incidentally must have been designed by and for chimpanzees). After a few days I called the desk to see if my grille was done. She could not say but would call me right back. 4 hours later, I received a voice message on the home phone from the HD service desk. The woman's accent was so thick that I could not understand the message, but I assumed it was to tell me that the grille was ready. (yo gree e eey fo u peeuh)
When I arrived at the store, it took half an hour to find the assembled grille. The service desk did not know where they kept the assembled grilles. Finally someone came out pushing a grille with my name on it. But he was not able to help put it in my van. Finally we wrangled a few guys to help me put the grille in my Caravan.
During the time I was waiting in line, I gathered from my fellow customers that they too were harboring strong feelings of dis-satisfaction. When I mentioned that they did not seem to know what they were doing, one guy agreed. "It takes two trips to get anything done right - and three phone calls."
So next time I think I need some hardware items, I'm thinking that maybe Lowes isn't so far after all.
5/09/2007
Wrongful Diagnosis
In the news the other day was an item about a man in UK named John Brandrick, 62, who was diagnosed with pancreatic cancer two years ago and told that he would probably die within a year. He decided to live out the rest of his short life in style. He sold most of his stuff and used the money to travel, staying in luxury hotels and generally living well.
When he failed to succumb on schedule, he was forced to confront the moment that all senior citizens dread, the real possibility that we will outlive our resources. Mr. Brandrick was simultaneously annoyed, perplexed, frustrated and delighted to be around to tell about it. It turns out, upon re-examination that he does not have the fatal illness, rather pancreatitis, a painful but non-fatal condition.
Now he is suing his doctors and the hospital for wrongful diagnosis because he spent all his money, has no home and (quixotically) no clothes. Most of us probably admire this guy for resolving to face-up to Death and spitting the grim reaper in the eye, going out in a blaze of glory. At the same time we see him as a pitiful loser who will not take responsibility for his own impulsive actions.
This story embodies the deeply ingrained philosophical contradictions of our times – especially for those of us on the back nine*.
Self-help authors encourage us to “Live as though you might die tomorrow; learn as though you will live forever.” They say we should take risks with our pleasures, but we must be patient to let wisdom arrive in the fullness of time.
It is said that the sign of intelligence is the ability to hold two contradictory thoughts in the mind at the same time. Like my mother often advised, “Have fun but be careful.” I think that studies** may eventually show that the constant presence of these opposing ideas in the cerebral cortex may cause us to be operationally bi-polar.
So, maybe we sometimes do crazy things on impulse and the regret them later on. Well, you’ll excuse me, I am going downtown to get a fire-breathing dragon tattooed across my back.
===============
*Pardon the golfing metaphor, but it was either this or “…treading down the dark road to dusty death…” I think you’ll agree that the back nine flows better.
**As far as I know there is no formal study examining the psychological effects of ambiguous warnings, yet. But someone should be looking into it.
When he failed to succumb on schedule, he was forced to confront the moment that all senior citizens dread, the real possibility that we will outlive our resources. Mr. Brandrick was simultaneously annoyed, perplexed, frustrated and delighted to be around to tell about it. It turns out, upon re-examination that he does not have the fatal illness, rather pancreatitis, a painful but non-fatal condition.
Now he is suing his doctors and the hospital for wrongful diagnosis because he spent all his money, has no home and (quixotically) no clothes. Most of us probably admire this guy for resolving to face-up to Death and spitting the grim reaper in the eye, going out in a blaze of glory. At the same time we see him as a pitiful loser who will not take responsibility for his own impulsive actions.
This story embodies the deeply ingrained philosophical contradictions of our times – especially for those of us on the back nine*.
Self-help authors encourage us to “Live as though you might die tomorrow; learn as though you will live forever.” They say we should take risks with our pleasures, but we must be patient to let wisdom arrive in the fullness of time.
It is said that the sign of intelligence is the ability to hold two contradictory thoughts in the mind at the same time. Like my mother often advised, “Have fun but be careful.” I think that studies** may eventually show that the constant presence of these opposing ideas in the cerebral cortex may cause us to be operationally bi-polar.
So, maybe we sometimes do crazy things on impulse and the regret them later on. Well, you’ll excuse me, I am going downtown to get a fire-breathing dragon tattooed across my back.
===============
*Pardon the golfing metaphor, but it was either this or “…treading down the dark road to dusty death…” I think you’ll agree that the back nine flows better.
**As far as I know there is no formal study examining the psychological effects of ambiguous warnings, yet. But someone should be looking into it.
5/02/2007
Outrageous Acts
My favorite part of the newspaper is usually the letters to the editor section. It is said that for every reader who actually takes the time to write down their thoughts, there are thousands more thinking the same thing. So, taking into account the editorial skewing in the selection of opinions, the Letters give a hint as to what actual readers are thinking about.
In today's Globe, I notice several letters to the editor decrying what the writers thought was benevolent handling in the reporting of the story of the MIT dean who was forced to resign over embellishments to her resume. The letter writers wanted to see the perp made to walk the plank with hands handcuffed behind her; then hanged and dragged around the city square. After all, she had violated a sacred trust.
Now, all of the MIT students who were admitted during her tenure have a cloud over their heads. How could someone so unqualified be relied upon to uphold the high standards of MIT's exclusionary admissions policy?
For the record, I need to confess to a bit of fabrication on my own resume. I got my degree (BA in LA) from a good but not elite school. About ten years ago, I started changing the designation of my Major to Journalism on my resume, because I thought it sounded more practical than English Literature. Would those who pompously refer to the document as Curriculum Vitae call this Fraud?
Lying on an employment application form is fraud, and punishable according to stated policies. Creative editing of one's personal advertisement (Resume) might fall into the category of Marketing Bullshit rather than criminal misdemeaner.
I believe the outrage over the crime of resume-fudging seems a bit misplaced. Perhaps some of it ought to have been better directed at the war in Iraq, tainted pet food, or even global warming. But who am I to question the motives of others? (My last letter to the editor was about unleashed dogs and the challenge of avoiding their ubiquitous poop on the sidewalks where I take my daily -weather permitting - stroll.)
In today's Globe, I notice several letters to the editor decrying what the writers thought was benevolent handling in the reporting of the story of the MIT dean who was forced to resign over embellishments to her resume. The letter writers wanted to see the perp made to walk the plank with hands handcuffed behind her; then hanged and dragged around the city square. After all, she had violated a sacred trust.
Now, all of the MIT students who were admitted during her tenure have a cloud over their heads. How could someone so unqualified be relied upon to uphold the high standards of MIT's exclusionary admissions policy?
For the record, I need to confess to a bit of fabrication on my own resume. I got my degree (BA in LA) from a good but not elite school. About ten years ago, I started changing the designation of my Major to Journalism on my resume, because I thought it sounded more practical than English Literature. Would those who pompously refer to the document as Curriculum Vitae call this Fraud?
Lying on an employment application form is fraud, and punishable according to stated policies. Creative editing of one's personal advertisement (Resume) might fall into the category of Marketing Bullshit rather than criminal misdemeaner.
I believe the outrage over the crime of resume-fudging seems a bit misplaced. Perhaps some of it ought to have been better directed at the war in Iraq, tainted pet food, or even global warming. But who am I to question the motives of others? (My last letter to the editor was about unleashed dogs and the challenge of avoiding their ubiquitous poop on the sidewalks where I take my daily -weather permitting - stroll.)
4/28/2007
Who Among Us?
Who among us hasn’t ordered-up a massage from an escort service, or fudged a few dates and accomplishments on their resume?
The most interesting news this week has been about resignations of high level bureacrats for relatively low-level crimes. We are not talking about officials taking bribes or giving away state secrets – we are talking about two things everyone[1] does: getting naked with strange women and lying on one’s resume.
Credible Lies
The dean of admissions at MIT resigned a few days ago. She admitted that she had lied on her resume 24 years ago to get the original job at the university.
Now, most of us have fudged a detail or two, but this gal invented two or three degrees. after dropping-out after only a few semesters in school! This is real creativity…. and balls.
I think if someone can get away with a lie about credentials, then there is no foul. Who got hurt? The poor overeducated candidate who didn’t get the job? At the stage where the interview is with the hiring manager, qualifications don’t count. The fictitious degrees got the MIT gal in the game, but she scored the points herself. The losers didn’t get the job because the hiring manager didn’t like them as much. Period.
It makes you wonder how many people, if forced to take truth serum, might admit to a fabrication of the truth that got them started on the road to success. The pompous among us will say that “Integrity is important.” But that is just horse shit: the fact that some “unqualified” people can actually excel at a job they were not “qualified” for, shows us that the vetting system is flawed. People who can demonstrate those flaws should be revered, not castigated.
I say that lies are important social lubrication. They often make interactions go smoother. Imagine a world where the absolute truth reigns:
How do I look: “Actually, you look a bit haggard.”
Nice to meet you: “Really? I was a little bored.”
Here’s that report you asked for, Boss: “Bend over the desk again and let me gaze at your lovely breasts.”
Have a nice day: “I’m late because of traffic, the kids are all sick with the flu, my wife is tired of my shit, I have nagging rectal itch, the boss thinks I am a procrastinator, I have a hangover, none of my friends will talk to me, and I just discovered a lump on my left testicle. Have a nice day? [expletive deleted]you!”
DC Call Girl Ring Investigation.
The head of the Bush administration's foreign aid programs, abruptly resigned Friday after he was “outed” by the D.C. Madam during an investigation into an alleged high-priced call-girl ring.
I admit that I was one of those who was willing to forgive Bill Clinton’s on-the-job dalliances ( I consider in-office bj’s from zealous interns as just one of the perks that goes with the title of “The most powerful man in the world”).
Abrogation of trust is one thing, fibbing about one’s sex life – even under oath – is somehow on a different plane.
Heck, I am willing to give a “pass” to anyone who can get their work done, and still feels in the mood for hot naked sex. Unless it can be found that he gave away state secrets or was using the power of his office in a corrupt manner, how were American citizens hurt by this factotum’s “massages”? Perhaps it is seen by some to be an embarrassment to the administration - I don’t think so.
It will be interesting to watch the reaction of people who (like me) were eager to exempt Bill Clinton from the lied-under-oath accusation. I hope I don’t see them hurling self-righteous stones at the other guys’ glass house.
But seriously, maybe this guy’s abrupt resignation - should be the model for all public figures who find themselves caught “with their pants down.” At least this saves us the hassle and psychic energy of the usual he-said, she-said disinformation cycle.
The real criminal – who should be burned at the stake - is the Madam who is snitching on her clients to stay out of jail. That is truly an unforgivable abrogation of trust.
---------------------------
[1] Well, almost everyone. Those of us who haven’t done it in real life have probably "sinned in our hearts".
The most interesting news this week has been about resignations of high level bureacrats for relatively low-level crimes. We are not talking about officials taking bribes or giving away state secrets – we are talking about two things everyone[1] does: getting naked with strange women and lying on one’s resume.
Credible Lies
The dean of admissions at MIT resigned a few days ago. She admitted that she had lied on her resume 24 years ago to get the original job at the university.
Now, most of us have fudged a detail or two, but this gal invented two or three degrees. after dropping-out after only a few semesters in school! This is real creativity…. and balls.
I think if someone can get away with a lie about credentials, then there is no foul. Who got hurt? The poor overeducated candidate who didn’t get the job? At the stage where the interview is with the hiring manager, qualifications don’t count. The fictitious degrees got the MIT gal in the game, but she scored the points herself. The losers didn’t get the job because the hiring manager didn’t like them as much. Period.
It makes you wonder how many people, if forced to take truth serum, might admit to a fabrication of the truth that got them started on the road to success. The pompous among us will say that “Integrity is important.” But that is just horse shit: the fact that some “unqualified” people can actually excel at a job they were not “qualified” for, shows us that the vetting system is flawed. People who can demonstrate those flaws should be revered, not castigated.
I say that lies are important social lubrication. They often make interactions go smoother. Imagine a world where the absolute truth reigns:
How do I look: “Actually, you look a bit haggard.”
Nice to meet you: “Really? I was a little bored.”
Here’s that report you asked for, Boss: “Bend over the desk again and let me gaze at your lovely breasts.”
Have a nice day: “I’m late because of traffic, the kids are all sick with the flu, my wife is tired of my shit, I have nagging rectal itch, the boss thinks I am a procrastinator, I have a hangover, none of my friends will talk to me, and I just discovered a lump on my left testicle. Have a nice day? [expletive deleted]
DC Call Girl Ring Investigation.
The head of the Bush administration's foreign aid programs, abruptly resigned Friday after he was “outed” by the D.C. Madam during an investigation into an alleged high-priced call-girl ring.
I admit that I was one of those who was willing to forgive Bill Clinton’s on-the-job dalliances ( I consider in-office bj’s from zealous interns as just one of the perks that goes with the title of “The most powerful man in the world”).
Abrogation of trust is one thing, fibbing about one’s sex life – even under oath – is somehow on a different plane.
Heck, I am willing to give a “pass” to anyone who can get their work done, and still feels in the mood for hot naked sex. Unless it can be found that he gave away state secrets or was using the power of his office in a corrupt manner, how were American citizens hurt by this factotum’s “massages”? Perhaps it is seen by some to be an embarrassment to the administration - I don’t think so.
It will be interesting to watch the reaction of people who (like me) were eager to exempt Bill Clinton from the lied-under-oath accusation. I hope I don’t see them hurling self-righteous stones at the other guys’ glass house.
But seriously, maybe this guy’s abrupt resignation - should be the model for all public figures who find themselves caught “with their pants down.” At least this saves us the hassle and psychic energy of the usual he-said, she-said disinformation cycle.
The real criminal – who should be burned at the stake - is the Madam who is snitching on her clients to stay out of jail. That is truly an unforgivable abrogation of trust.
---------------------------
[1] Well, almost everyone. Those of us who haven’t done it in real life have probably "sinned in our hearts".
4/22/2007
Bad News
The airwaves are always filled with news of tragedy and death. Lately, though, it seems that the news is more awful that we can bear. All week it has been the VPI shootings and the video clips of the shooter, tearful biographies of the victims, recaps of other mass killings, and on and on.
Most of us (who have time to listen during the day) were probably releived to hear the radio talk shows changing the subject, to replay celebrity asshole Alec Baldwin's child abusing rant to his 11 (or is it 12?)- year-old daughter who did not take his scheduled call. Everyone jumped on the bandwagon to condemn Baldwin's obviously poor parenting skills. A judge even issued a restraining order based on the content of the phone message.
The fact that a private phone message was leaked for the world to hear - and ridicule - is not nearly as amusing as it seems at first. The backstory is tragic and disheartening. A story of beautiful people who are rich and stupid. People who willingly create fodder for the papparazzi press and who squander the public good will by selfish and nasty acts.
I tried switching to BBC news which does not sensationalize the headlines. World war three would be reported dryly and in depth, then the news would turn to a dispute about the space width between painted lines in a Kensington car park with equal drama and thoroughness.
Even better, I've also been switching to the AM station that used to host Al Franken's Air America network. (Despite the constant assertions by political conservatives that the media is dominated by leftist commies, it was the only liberal talk station in the Boston area.
For some reason, people who listen to talk radio would rather listen to fascist neocons than to treehugging global warming alarmists. Personally, I think anyone who isn't suspicious of both parties, and who finds themselves polarized to the point where they are convinced that the (uninformed) other side is ruining the country, is totally full of shit. Air America was deeply flawed; it passed up the opportunity to argue a rational case in favor of progressive ideas, and instead devoted itself to mocking the players on the other (conservative) side. There was plenty of material, to be sure, but good, fresh and funny is hard to do, day in and day out. Stale humor is worse than watching weather forecasts for Nebraska.
Anyhow the Al Franken network is defunct - at least in Boston. Now that station plays Latino music most of the day, and the ads and news are mostly in Spanish, so I cannot understand anything they say.
Come to think of it, listening to salsa music and incomprehensible spoken word is a huge improvement over hearing the constant namecalling and snide innuendo of political talk radio.
Most of us (who have time to listen during the day) were probably releived to hear the radio talk shows changing the subject, to replay celebrity asshole Alec Baldwin's child abusing rant to his 11 (or is it 12?)- year-old daughter who did not take his scheduled call. Everyone jumped on the bandwagon to condemn Baldwin's obviously poor parenting skills. A judge even issued a restraining order based on the content of the phone message.
The fact that a private phone message was leaked for the world to hear - and ridicule - is not nearly as amusing as it seems at first. The backstory is tragic and disheartening. A story of beautiful people who are rich and stupid. People who willingly create fodder for the papparazzi press and who squander the public good will by selfish and nasty acts.
I tried switching to BBC news which does not sensationalize the headlines. World war three would be reported dryly and in depth, then the news would turn to a dispute about the space width between painted lines in a Kensington car park with equal drama and thoroughness.
Even better, I've also been switching to the AM station that used to host Al Franken's Air America network. (Despite the constant assertions by political conservatives that the media is dominated by leftist commies, it was the only liberal talk station in the Boston area.
For some reason, people who listen to talk radio would rather listen to fascist neocons than to treehugging global warming alarmists. Personally, I think anyone who isn't suspicious of both parties, and who finds themselves polarized to the point where they are convinced that the (uninformed) other side is ruining the country, is totally full of shit. Air America was deeply flawed; it passed up the opportunity to argue a rational case in favor of progressive ideas, and instead devoted itself to mocking the players on the other (conservative) side. There was plenty of material, to be sure, but good, fresh and funny is hard to do, day in and day out. Stale humor is worse than watching weather forecasts for Nebraska.
Anyhow the Al Franken network is defunct - at least in Boston. Now that station plays Latino music most of the day, and the ads and news are mostly in Spanish, so I cannot understand anything they say.
Come to think of it, listening to salsa music and incomprehensible spoken word is a huge improvement over hearing the constant namecalling and snide innuendo of political talk radio.
4/21/2007
More Evidence
Today it is a balmy 70 degrees. The sun is bright and the sky is fair weather blue. I feel the need to get out into the garden and start raking, but recent events compel me to take notice of further evidence of the benefits of procrastination.
Napoleon (1) used to say, "It is an ill wind that blows nobody good." And the big Nor'easter storm that blew into New England last Monday, dumped half a foot of rain in some places, knocked down power lines, and created a storm surge that remanded 3 Nantucket beachfront homes to Davy Jones' locker. It was the same storm that had wended its way across America from the western plains, through Illinois, and into the Atlantic belt. Untold thousands were stranded in airports around the country. Thousands more had to leave their threatened homes and places of work. All in all, maybe a million people would say that the storm caused them to not have a nice day.
So, you are asking, where is the good news? Well, for those people who did not get their taxes done last Tuesday, the Mass Dept of Revenue and the IRS announced an extension for taxpayers who were affected by the storm. The extension was noted to be specifically for those who lost power or suffered a loss which would have legitimately prevented them from filing their returns at the last moment.
In typical bureaucratic toothlessness, Revenue officials stated that they would not require any proof of hardship from those claiming the extension. Thus, virtually anyone who did not get their taxes done by the deadline had a free no-fault bonus of 3-5 days. This regardless of the fact that they may have been toast warm, dry and fully powered.
It just showed that those of us Last-minute-tax-filers who complied with the rules (I took my returns to the Post office just after lunch on Tuesday - in the drenching rain!) missed an opportunity to put it off for up to another 5 days. As Napoleon often said, "The worst waste of time is to needlessly comply with a meaningless deadline."
(1) Fritz Napoleon - A homeless man who begs for spare change on a corner near the cafe where I often go for bagels and coffee. He was a former contestant on a TV reality show called "Trading hos, " which featured pimps from different 'hoods and the often hilarious entanglements when a righteous Dude is thrust into different locale and finds himself representing an unfamiliar stable of working ladies. The show was cancelled after the first week and replaced by the mesmerizing Anna Nicole Smith documentary.
Napoleon (1) used to say, "It is an ill wind that blows nobody good." And the big Nor'easter storm that blew into New England last Monday, dumped half a foot of rain in some places, knocked down power lines, and created a storm surge that remanded 3 Nantucket beachfront homes to Davy Jones' locker. It was the same storm that had wended its way across America from the western plains, through Illinois, and into the Atlantic belt. Untold thousands were stranded in airports around the country. Thousands more had to leave their threatened homes and places of work. All in all, maybe a million people would say that the storm caused them to not have a nice day.
So, you are asking, where is the good news? Well, for those people who did not get their taxes done last Tuesday, the Mass Dept of Revenue and the IRS announced an extension for taxpayers who were affected by the storm. The extension was noted to be specifically for those who lost power or suffered a loss which would have legitimately prevented them from filing their returns at the last moment.
In typical bureaucratic toothlessness, Revenue officials stated that they would not require any proof of hardship from those claiming the extension. Thus, virtually anyone who did not get their taxes done by the deadline had a free no-fault bonus of 3-5 days. This regardless of the fact that they may have been toast warm, dry and fully powered.
It just showed that those of us Last-minute-tax-filers who complied with the rules (I took my returns to the Post office just after lunch on Tuesday - in the drenching rain!) missed an opportunity to put it off for up to another 5 days. As Napoleon often said, "The worst waste of time is to needlessly comply with a meaningless deadline."
(1) Fritz Napoleon - A homeless man who begs for spare change on a corner near the cafe where I often go for bagels and coffee. He was a former contestant on a TV reality show called "Trading hos, " which featured pimps from different 'hoods and the often hilarious entanglements when a righteous Dude is thrust into different locale and finds himself representing an unfamiliar stable of working ladies. The show was cancelled after the first week and replaced by the mesmerizing Anna Nicole Smith documentary.
4/19/2007
April Showers
It has been unseasonably cold, wet and nasty for at least two weeks here in the western suburbs of Boston. My “daily” walks have been curtailed, and the yard/garden has been too wet for any of the normal springtime activities. My wife has remarked that my mood seems darker and my normal jovial personality has been drifting into negative territory.
The news has not been helpful. Last week, all anyone talked about was Imus’ botched joke getting him fired. This week, we have been besieged by 24 hour coverage of the terrible mass killings on the Virginia Tech campus.
For many years, we listened to the Imus-in-the-Morning program and enjoyed its irreverent over-the-edge humor, interesting guests and focus on the issues of the day. During the past year or so, we had been turning the program off, or switching to muzac instead of enduring the unfunny skits and lame attempts to be outrageous. Worse, Imus frequently devoted unseemly amounts of airtime (and the commercial breaks seemed like at least half of every hour of the show) to personal promotions of his ranch, his kid, his wife, his brother, his charities – all tedious and unfunny. His annoying and cynical use of this pulpit drove me to turn him off on a regular basis.
I will say that he often had good guests, and I would commonly switch to his station at least once during any given morning, hoping to hear an interview with someone who knew what was going on in the world. The format allowed the guest to have enough time to present information more completely than the typical sound-bite headline news or the smarmy morning TV shows. (For example, Joe Biden explained that the reason he chose to announce his candidacy for President on Imus’ show was that NBC would only give him 5 minutes and Imus gave him twenty. )
Imus greatest crime was not being funny. He got what he deserved, but not for the right reasons. The activities of the infamous Al (Tawana Brawley) Sharpton – a conked-out race whore – make him the least qualified to stand in judgment of anyone. He and his fellow partner in racism Jesse (hymietown) Jackson immediately make me want to side with anyone or any organization that they are against.
This week , the non-Imus news has been truly horrible. The unending coverage of the massacre at VPI has been unwatchable. The horror of another crazy guy with a gun running around shooting people at random is another one of the scary things we have to worry about these days. Add it to the list of Terrorist attacks, Tornadoes, Traffic accidents, Bird Flu, and a hundred other ways that “fate” can suddenly take away everything – not because you deserved it, but just because you were in the wrong place at the wrong time.
It got me to thinking about my working days. Over the course of a long career we all bump into people who seemed, shall we say, “tightly wound”? It’s not PC to call people crazy – but they are/were definitely among us. People who you expected to lose it one day and come in to avenge the pain and suffering of their lives by murdering the nearest authority figure: The boss.
I have a draft version of a short story – based on true events – It began when a troubled hi tech office-mate told me about his plan to shoot our boss in reaction to the colleague’s recent demotion and humiliation. He told me in great detail how he was planning to wait in woods next to the parking lot, and when the boss arrived in his gray BMW, fix him in his scope and…bang. As he told me his plans, his voice was steady and evil and his eyes were unblinking, like a snake. I judged him to be insane, and serious. This created a dilemma for me which was both moral and practical. Should I report him? What if he decided I knew too much about his plans? I feared that he would kill the boss, then me -- not necessarily in that order. If you want to know how it ends, you will just have to wait until I finish writing the story.
I never personally considered killing the boss – but come to think of it, if I had killed that sonofabitch CFO who had me fired back in 1987 - I’d be getting out of prison about now. I don’t hold grudges. But, I will admit that I smiled a few years ago, when I heard that he had testicular cancer.
Now that I'm older and wiser, I have forgiven everyone and everything. Over and over is has been proven that life events that seemed like overwhelming crises at the time resolved themselves. Most of the time, we move on to better things.
Hey, the sun just came out. Time for a walk.
The news has not been helpful. Last week, all anyone talked about was Imus’ botched joke getting him fired. This week, we have been besieged by 24 hour coverage of the terrible mass killings on the Virginia Tech campus.
For many years, we listened to the Imus-in-the-Morning program and enjoyed its irreverent over-the-edge humor, interesting guests and focus on the issues of the day. During the past year or so, we had been turning the program off, or switching to muzac instead of enduring the unfunny skits and lame attempts to be outrageous. Worse, Imus frequently devoted unseemly amounts of airtime (and the commercial breaks seemed like at least half of every hour of the show) to personal promotions of his ranch, his kid, his wife, his brother, his charities – all tedious and unfunny. His annoying and cynical use of this pulpit drove me to turn him off on a regular basis.
I will say that he often had good guests, and I would commonly switch to his station at least once during any given morning, hoping to hear an interview with someone who knew what was going on in the world. The format allowed the guest to have enough time to present information more completely than the typical sound-bite headline news or the smarmy morning TV shows. (For example, Joe Biden explained that the reason he chose to announce his candidacy for President on Imus’ show was that NBC would only give him 5 minutes and Imus gave him twenty. )
Imus greatest crime was not being funny. He got what he deserved, but not for the right reasons. The activities of the infamous Al (Tawana Brawley) Sharpton – a conked-out race whore – make him the least qualified to stand in judgment of anyone. He and his fellow partner in racism Jesse (hymietown) Jackson immediately make me want to side with anyone or any organization that they are against.
This week , the non-Imus news has been truly horrible. The unending coverage of the massacre at VPI has been unwatchable. The horror of another crazy guy with a gun running around shooting people at random is another one of the scary things we have to worry about these days. Add it to the list of Terrorist attacks, Tornadoes, Traffic accidents, Bird Flu, and a hundred other ways that “fate” can suddenly take away everything – not because you deserved it, but just because you were in the wrong place at the wrong time.
It got me to thinking about my working days. Over the course of a long career we all bump into people who seemed, shall we say, “tightly wound”? It’s not PC to call people crazy – but they are/were definitely among us. People who you expected to lose it one day and come in to avenge the pain and suffering of their lives by murdering the nearest authority figure: The boss.
I have a draft version of a short story – based on true events – It began when a troubled hi tech office-mate told me about his plan to shoot our boss in reaction to the colleague’s recent demotion and humiliation. He told me in great detail how he was planning to wait in woods next to the parking lot, and when the boss arrived in his gray BMW, fix him in his scope and…bang. As he told me his plans, his voice was steady and evil and his eyes were unblinking, like a snake. I judged him to be insane, and serious. This created a dilemma for me which was both moral and practical. Should I report him? What if he decided I knew too much about his plans? I feared that he would kill the boss, then me -- not necessarily in that order. If you want to know how it ends, you will just have to wait until I finish writing the story.
I never personally considered killing the boss – but come to think of it, if I had killed that sonofabitch CFO who had me fired back in 1987 - I’d be getting out of prison about now. I don’t hold grudges. But, I will admit that I smiled a few years ago, when I heard that he had testicular cancer.
Now that I'm older and wiser, I have forgiven everyone and everything. Over and over is has been proven that life events that seemed like overwhelming crises at the time resolved themselves. Most of the time, we move on to better things.
Hey, the sun just came out. Time for a walk.
4/02/2007
About Time (part 3)
I am working on an essay titled “Oops I Didn't do it, Again - (The Arguement in Favor of Procrastination).” In the essay I take hard issue with our overplanned and goal oriented society. The essay examines the deleterious effects of the crazy-busy lives of people – especially those who are working at a career and raising families –who never have time to “Stop and smell the roses”.
When finished the essay examines the positive side of procrastination, which is seen ( mainly by some anal retentive souls) as a chronic illness that some people may inherit. For example, successful procrastinators may put things off until the last minute but they tend to work exceedingly well under the pressure of an imminent deadline. (This is why I can start working on my tax returns on April 14 and finish under the deadline.
I have no scientific evidence that procrastination is inherited, but I believe it to be so after years of observing my siblings and myself. We are inveterate and practiced procrastinators. Yet, somehow, stuff gets done. Dinners get cooked, trips get planned, appointments are kept, lunches are scheduled, deadlines are met - most of the time.
Procrastination may be a personal attribute that drives other people crazy. But you organized people need to recognize that overplanning/overscheduling drives procrastinators crazy too. I think one of the traits that procrastinators have in common is the ability to discern real deadlines (eg April 15th last date for filing last years Income tax return)from fictitious deadlines (The boss wants your status report no later than noon on Friday - as if nothing was going to get done on Friday after lunch....)
One thing about procrastinators is that they seem to enjoy spur of the moment experiences, welcome surprise and are calm in the face of impending crises that send lesser souls into a state of virtual diarrhea.
I have a few paragraphs of the essay completed, but I doubt that I’ll get to finishing it in the foreseeable future. Lots of other stuff to do that seems more interesting right now.
When finished the essay examines the positive side of procrastination, which is seen ( mainly by some anal retentive souls) as a chronic illness that some people may inherit. For example, successful procrastinators may put things off until the last minute but they tend to work exceedingly well under the pressure of an imminent deadline. (This is why I can start working on my tax returns on April 14 and finish under the deadline.
I have no scientific evidence that procrastination is inherited, but I believe it to be so after years of observing my siblings and myself. We are inveterate and practiced procrastinators. Yet, somehow, stuff gets done. Dinners get cooked, trips get planned, appointments are kept, lunches are scheduled, deadlines are met - most of the time.
Procrastination may be a personal attribute that drives other people crazy. But you organized people need to recognize that overplanning/overscheduling drives procrastinators crazy too. I think one of the traits that procrastinators have in common is the ability to discern real deadlines (eg April 15th last date for filing last years Income tax return)from fictitious deadlines (The boss wants your status report no later than noon on Friday - as if nothing was going to get done on Friday after lunch....)
One thing about procrastinators is that they seem to enjoy spur of the moment experiences, welcome surprise and are calm in the face of impending crises that send lesser souls into a state of virtual diarrhea.
I have a few paragraphs of the essay completed, but I doubt that I’ll get to finishing it in the foreseeable future. Lots of other stuff to do that seems more interesting right now.
3/31/2007
ON TIME (part 2)
Second part of answer to Question 2
Things I did last week:
Tea with George (Earrrl Grrrey – we don’t drink beer anymore)
4 Bags of Lime from the hardware store
Library (pickup book i special ordered "A perfect Mess")
Watched Lila (2 days)
Fixed Snowblower Shear pin
Gas for lawn mower (who says I never plan ahead?)
Trash to dump (85% recycle)
Update blog
Played about 6 hrs on World of Warcraft
Daily Walks (well almost daily)
Got burning permit
Renew subscriptions (Penthouse, Martha Stewart Living)
Shopped for Tax software (decided to wait until last minute)
Replaced color Ink Cartridge (cripes $30!)
Shopping at the market – 2 or 3 visits (I only buy the freshest produce and meat)
Cook dinner (nightly)
Laundry (2 loads)
Breakfast with Maury
Bank (Check to make sure SS check was transferred)
Lottery tix (no winners yet)
Read “The God Delusion” and “Mere Christianity”
Viewed 2 movies "The Departed" *** and "The Prestige" *
Grill shopping (waiting for sale)
Limed lawn (deferred from last Fall)
=========
Who has time for a job?
=========
Things I did last week:
Tea with George (Earrrl Grrrey – we don’t drink beer anymore)
4 Bags of Lime from the hardware store
Library (pickup book i special ordered "A perfect Mess")
Watched Lila (2 days)
Fixed Snowblower Shear pin
Gas for lawn mower (who says I never plan ahead?)
Trash to dump (85% recycle)
Update blog
Played about 6 hrs on World of Warcraft
Daily Walks (well almost daily)
Got burning permit
Renew subscriptions (Penthouse, Martha Stewart Living)
Shopped for Tax software (decided to wait until last minute)
Replaced color Ink Cartridge (cripes $30!)
Shopping at the market – 2 or 3 visits (I only buy the freshest produce and meat)
Cook dinner (nightly)
Laundry (2 loads)
Breakfast with Maury
Bank (Check to make sure SS check was transferred)
Lottery tix (no winners yet)
Read “The God Delusion” and “Mere Christianity”
Viewed 2 movies "The Departed" *** and "The Prestige" *
Grill shopping (waiting for sale)
Limed lawn (deferred from last Fall)
=========
Who has time for a job?
=========
3/27/2007
How I Spend My Time Part 1
Some of you have expressed feelings that range from mild annoyance to puzzled amusement that someone who is not-currently-employed (NCE) doesn’t seem to have the time to update his blog with more regularity.
If you were my “boss” who was paying for me be somewhere at a scheduled time and produce some “work” I might feel obligated to explain to you. But why should I account for my time to some internet freeloader – who is very likely sitting in an office pretending to be doing “work”?
Since I have been NCE for more than a year now, People often ask me “Are you retired?”
And,
“What do you do with all that free time?”
Answer number one:
I think so; I am not looking for a full-time job. I don’t think I could squeeze a full-time job into my schedule, right now. I am pretty busy. This is not to say that I would not pursue a great opportunity to make a lot of money and do something interesting at the same time. The truth is that the likelihood of such an opportunity materializing is remote. So, yes, I think I am retired,
Answer to the second question:
What free time? Most days, I spend several hours sitting at a desk*, surfing the internet or writing fabulous prose or playing World of Warcraft. I read – or at least glance through - two papers every morning, Several days a week are scheduled with social contacts with adult humans for lunch or afternoon coffee/tea. Since my wife is still working 4 days a week, I do the shopping and daily meal preparation. I also have an extensive list of things to do around the house – drilling holes, painting, re-staining the outdoor furniture, repairing the snow blower, etc. Then there are the increasingly frequent visits to healthcare providers for oil change and lubrication. Also the cars need maintenance**. On good weather days, I take a long walks; on nasty days I work out for two hours in the home gym***.
On Mondays, I am day care provider for my 5 month old grand daughter, so that the parents can keep working to pay their credit card interest charges. Twice a month on Tuesdays, I have a writing group that I attend. Thursdays, I have a standing lunch with Maury who is 83 and still in remarkably good health. Fridays, my wife stays home and watches the above referenced grand daughter, while managing my progress on her never-ending “Honey-do” list. I also have the same chores I have always had (going to the dump, yard work, straightening-up the mess so the cleaners can vacuum, that sort of thing).
Many of these activities are the same things working people do, except that I no longer need to cram them all into the weekend. I can do them at my own pace, often enjoying them much more than you workerbees, who see these mundane activities as a mere checklist item to be dispensed with as efficiently as possible.
The big difference is that I am in no hurry, I have plenty of time to dawdle and to consider universal and eternal verities. (he looks out the window and watches a squirrel digging furiously in the lawn. He wonders: is it burying something or digging something up? He certainly seems busy. Where does he go during blizzards? Effing rodents; Where the hell is my BB gun? The beastslayer jumps up from his computer to rummage through the garage looking for something...)
[Time passes]
OK let us return to the question about why I do not have time (or inclination) to update the blog with more frequency. (Phone rings.) Ah, gentle reader, you must excuse the interruption, I need to take this call.
And I need more time to ponder this question properly….come back tomorrow...
==========================================================
* Much like when I was working and getting paid for it.
** These were tasks that I would tend to do “on company time” when I was working.
*** this last part was a fib - I don't actually have any exercise equipment. I thought it sounded more noble than the inconvenient truth: taking a thoroughly undeserved nap on the sofa. (This I was unable to do during my working years).
If you were my “boss” who was paying for me be somewhere at a scheduled time and produce some “work” I might feel obligated to explain to you. But why should I account for my time to some internet freeloader – who is very likely sitting in an office pretending to be doing “work”?
Since I have been NCE for more than a year now, People often ask me “Are you retired?”
And,
“What do you do with all that free time?”
Answer number one:
I think so; I am not looking for a full-time job. I don’t think I could squeeze a full-time job into my schedule, right now. I am pretty busy. This is not to say that I would not pursue a great opportunity to make a lot of money and do something interesting at the same time. The truth is that the likelihood of such an opportunity materializing is remote. So, yes, I think I am retired,
Answer to the second question:
What free time? Most days, I spend several hours sitting at a desk*, surfing the internet or writing fabulous prose or playing World of Warcraft. I read – or at least glance through - two papers every morning, Several days a week are scheduled with social contacts with adult humans for lunch or afternoon coffee/tea. Since my wife is still working 4 days a week, I do the shopping and daily meal preparation. I also have an extensive list of things to do around the house – drilling holes, painting, re-staining the outdoor furniture, repairing the snow blower, etc. Then there are the increasingly frequent visits to healthcare providers for oil change and lubrication. Also the cars need maintenance**. On good weather days, I take a long walks; on nasty days I work out for two hours in the home gym***.
On Mondays, I am day care provider for my 5 month old grand daughter, so that the parents can keep working to pay their credit card interest charges. Twice a month on Tuesdays, I have a writing group that I attend. Thursdays, I have a standing lunch with Maury who is 83 and still in remarkably good health. Fridays, my wife stays home and watches the above referenced grand daughter, while managing my progress on her never-ending “Honey-do” list. I also have the same chores I have always had (going to the dump, yard work, straightening-up the mess so the cleaners can vacuum, that sort of thing).
Many of these activities are the same things working people do, except that I no longer need to cram them all into the weekend. I can do them at my own pace, often enjoying them much more than you workerbees, who see these mundane activities as a mere checklist item to be dispensed with as efficiently as possible.
The big difference is that I am in no hurry, I have plenty of time to dawdle and to consider universal and eternal verities. (he looks out the window and watches a squirrel digging furiously in the lawn. He wonders: is it burying something or digging something up? He certainly seems busy. Where does he go during blizzards? Effing rodents; Where the hell is my BB gun? The beastslayer jumps up from his computer to rummage through the garage looking for something...)
[Time passes]
OK let us return to the question about why I do not have time (or inclination) to update the blog with more frequency. (Phone rings.) Ah, gentle reader, you must excuse the interruption, I need to take this call.
And I need more time to ponder this question properly….come back tomorrow...
==========================================================
* Much like when I was working and getting paid for it.
** These were tasks that I would tend to do “on company time” when I was working.
*** this last part was a fib - I don't actually have any exercise equipment. I thought it sounded more noble than the inconvenient truth: taking a thoroughly undeserved nap on the sofa. (This I was unable to do during my working years).
3/01/2007
Unintended Truths
I did not stay up late enough last Sunday night to watch the Acadamy Awards (or was it the People's Choice?) I don't think I missed anything remotely entertaining or interesting. One missable moment was reported in the papers, where a heavy-set version of Al Gore accepted an award for the so-called documentary titled 'An Inconvenient Truth.'
It's on my Netflix list. By all accounts, he presents a totally one-sided version of politically-smirched scientific opinion, interspersed with some outlandish predictions of Oceans inundating occupied land.
If you were not up late watching South Park re-runs last night, you missed a classic episode, where former Vice President Al Gore shows up in Colorado to warn the South Park community about the dangers of some mythological beast that lives in a Rocky Mountain cave and was about to emerge and wreak unspeakable horrors on innocent civilians.
Of course, none of the adults in South Park will pay any attention to him, despite his arm-waving dire warnings. As they do often, the south park writers nailed it again.
It's on my Netflix list. By all accounts, he presents a totally one-sided version of politically-smirched scientific opinion, interspersed with some outlandish predictions of Oceans inundating occupied land.
If you were not up late watching South Park re-runs last night, you missed a classic episode, where former Vice President Al Gore shows up in Colorado to warn the South Park community about the dangers of some mythological beast that lives in a Rocky Mountain cave and was about to emerge and wreak unspeakable horrors on innocent civilians.
Of course, none of the adults in South Park will pay any attention to him, despite his arm-waving dire warnings. As they do often, the south park writers nailed it again.
2/19/2007
Gluteal Freezing
Nineteen degrees Fahrenheit at high noon today. It is amazing that human beings can even survive in this climate, let alone choose to live here during the Winter.
OK, maybe we are just a tad spoiled by the short 9 day Florida getaway. We have discussed our options for the future and have made a firm decision to extend our visit to the southern climes to a month or even six weeks next winter. By that time, neither of us expects to have the interference of full time jobs to encumber us.
Note to the kids: Don't worry. We are not on the verge of putting the family home up for sale, heading South to spend your inheritance on a lavish beachfront mansion with an expensive cabin cruiser moored at our private dock. We have not even entertained those thoughts - honestly!
Of course, no one would blame us if we were thinking about it - which I assure you we have not. At our age, Winter is no longer a friend. The days when we anticipated fluffy snow fallen slopes and frozen ponds upon which to glide and carve have given way to aches and pains, tender epidermis, sore backs and joints; and a deep loathing for the cold arid arctic blasts.
These days, we skip the daily walk and stay warmly inside the house when the weather turns nasty. On frigid days like this, we tremble at the thought of slipping on the ice and shattering our increasingly brittle bones*; we are haunted by visions of helpless hospitalization, followed by a long recuperation punctuated by innumerable visits to an overwhelming array of health care specialists - for xrays, physical therapy, counseling for depression, acupuncture, rabies shots (just in case...). Also there are the predictable and prolonged haggling with health care insurance providers over co-pays and the costs of approved tier medications.
Even worse, we dread the thought of having the mailman or some un-invited visitor slip and fall in our driveway and sue us for all we are worth. So, I find myself going out in the middle of winter blizzards, shoveling the wet snow, ignoring the shortness of breath, the numbing left arm and burning chest pains - because the driveway must be cleared before the storm turns to rain and freezes into a sheet of slick cement. Despite the symptoms of a possible heart attack, I risk frostbite and even death to avoid the possibility of being sued into poverty.
There are no longer any kids in the neighborhood who would even think of shoveling your walk for less than $50. (I do not have a line item on my budget for such extravagance. What do I look like, Governor De Ville?) Even if we were willing to deplete our lifetime savings for such labors, we could not find a willing worker. These days kids don't need to earn money. Many of them wear sneakers that cost more than the 1950 Chevy I bought back in 1960. In my day, we would shovel all day in our sneakers and tee shirt to earn $3). Kids are not allowed to go door to door soliciting anymore because - thanks to reality shows on TV - we now know that every household on your street contains at least one raving lunatic, drug addict, sex offender, witch or lawyer. Too dangerous for kids to approach without a parental overseer.
Given the life-threatening dangers of occupying a 3 bedroom house in suburban Boston during the Winter, it would perhaps not be un-thinkable for a couple who have worked hard all of their lives, stayed out of jail, and accumulated a small nest egg to support them in their elder years – might dream of finding a nice warm haven to rest their increasingly fragile bones* far away from the vile winds of winter.
But we are Yankees who were raised to believe in thrift and parsimony. Don’t worry, kids. Rather than spending your inheritance on lavish personal amenities, we will just persevere here in frigid New England, subsisting on cold cereal mixed with melted snow, spending our days watching Court TV and Jerry Springer. It could be worse: At least we don't live in Dayton, Ohio**.
What we should all be worried about is global freezing, and whether they will ever bury poor Anna Nicole Smith?
-----------------------------------------------------------------------
*This danger is highlighted by several advertisers of nightly news programs.
**Dayton, Ohio is alleged by my sister-in-law, who lived there for several years, to be the "least desirable place to live on this entire planet."
OK, maybe we are just a tad spoiled by the short 9 day Florida getaway. We have discussed our options for the future and have made a firm decision to extend our visit to the southern climes to a month or even six weeks next winter. By that time, neither of us expects to have the interference of full time jobs to encumber us.
Note to the kids: Don't worry. We are not on the verge of putting the family home up for sale, heading South to spend your inheritance on a lavish beachfront mansion with an expensive cabin cruiser moored at our private dock. We have not even entertained those thoughts - honestly!
Of course, no one would blame us if we were thinking about it - which I assure you we have not. At our age, Winter is no longer a friend. The days when we anticipated fluffy snow fallen slopes and frozen ponds upon which to glide and carve have given way to aches and pains, tender epidermis, sore backs and joints; and a deep loathing for the cold arid arctic blasts.
These days, we skip the daily walk and stay warmly inside the house when the weather turns nasty. On frigid days like this, we tremble at the thought of slipping on the ice and shattering our increasingly brittle bones*; we are haunted by visions of helpless hospitalization, followed by a long recuperation punctuated by innumerable visits to an overwhelming array of health care specialists - for xrays, physical therapy, counseling for depression, acupuncture, rabies shots (just in case...). Also there are the predictable and prolonged haggling with health care insurance providers over co-pays and the costs of approved tier medications.
Even worse, we dread the thought of having the mailman or some un-invited visitor slip and fall in our driveway and sue us for all we are worth. So, I find myself going out in the middle of winter blizzards, shoveling the wet snow, ignoring the shortness of breath, the numbing left arm and burning chest pains - because the driveway must be cleared before the storm turns to rain and freezes into a sheet of slick cement. Despite the symptoms of a possible heart attack, I risk frostbite and even death to avoid the possibility of being sued into poverty.
There are no longer any kids in the neighborhood who would even think of shoveling your walk for less than $50. (I do not have a line item on my budget for such extravagance. What do I look like, Governor De Ville?) Even if we were willing to deplete our lifetime savings for such labors, we could not find a willing worker. These days kids don't need to earn money. Many of them wear sneakers that cost more than the 1950 Chevy I bought back in 1960. In my day, we would shovel all day in our sneakers and tee shirt to earn $3). Kids are not allowed to go door to door soliciting anymore because - thanks to reality shows on TV - we now know that every household on your street contains at least one raving lunatic, drug addict, sex offender, witch or lawyer. Too dangerous for kids to approach without a parental overseer.
Given the life-threatening dangers of occupying a 3 bedroom house in suburban Boston during the Winter, it would perhaps not be un-thinkable for a couple who have worked hard all of their lives, stayed out of jail, and accumulated a small nest egg to support them in their elder years – might dream of finding a nice warm haven to rest their increasingly fragile bones* far away from the vile winds of winter.
But we are Yankees who were raised to believe in thrift and parsimony. Don’t worry, kids. Rather than spending your inheritance on lavish personal amenities, we will just persevere here in frigid New England, subsisting on cold cereal mixed with melted snow, spending our days watching Court TV and Jerry Springer. It could be worse: At least we don't live in Dayton, Ohio**.
What we should all be worried about is global freezing, and whether they will ever bury poor Anna Nicole Smith?
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*This danger is highlighted by several advertisers of nightly news programs.
**Dayton, Ohio is alleged by my sister-in-law, who lived there for several years, to be the "least desirable place to live on this entire planet."
2/17/2007
A Miserable Conspiracy
We were among the lucky Jet Blue passengers who were able to board our scheduled flights today - an hour late, but most of us were just happy that the flight wasn't cancelled altogether.
I noticed that the Jet Blue personnel were exceedingly communicative today. I think they are frightened by the prospect of a consumer revolt after the Valentine's Day strandings. The terminals were probably swarming with Lawyers looking to sign people up for class action suits.
The standard airline customer service normally consists of conscious and assertive with-holding any useful information. Hey why bother? As long as all the airlines do it they can force the customers to actually vie with one another for one of three hundred seats that are too small for anyone who is bigger than the average circus dwarf.
I'm surprised they haven't come up with a reality show pitting travelers against one another racing and physically attacking one another to win a cramped seat near one of the working toilets. No wonder there have not been any more terrorist attacks by plane. The Imams think it is cruel and unusual to force someone to travel by commercial air liner as a prerequisite to get to paradise and the 72 virgins.
Every time I travel I am reminded of how awful the system is. The Security checkpoints make you want to laugh or cry hysterically because they are a microcosm of our general attitude toward safety. One guy had a bomb in his shoe 5 years ago, and we still have to take off our sneakers to get through security. Little old lady nuns are being felt-up by high school drop outs and probable illegal immigrants (swarthy people of dubious citizenship with accents so heavy that you cannot understand their questions or instructions)who seem to be the only people who will work for TSA at $8.50 an hour. Thank you, Homeland security. Boy I feel safer, don't you?
The American attitude toward safety is hysterical. A small fraction of kids are seriously allergic to nuts; so all preschoolers in the building are forbidden to bring peanut butter sandwiches. Some klutz's bang their heads and now everyone is required to wear helmets. Next thing you will hear that a couple of birds got sick and we will shut down Canada to keep the geese out, declaring war if they try to invade. We are an insane society, driven by fear mongers, content-challenged news programs, and a poor understanding of risk.
I think the airline industry generally sells misery. I know this because they admit that the seats are not big enough, most of them enforce class discrimination which leads to envy and hatred, they lie about their on time performance, the food, if they have any, sucks and they force us all to get sick if anyone on the plane is sick. Check out the salaries of Airline Execs. They make more than the President of Scotland.
But in the Tampa airport today, the Jet Blue people today were all about setting expectations. They had actual people on the counter today instead of those self service check-in machines where the customer does the work and the counter people just check your id and slap bar coded stickers on your luggage. They kept us informed of the progress of the flight that was delayed in leaving NYC - the one that would take us to Boston. One we got on board, they kept interrupting the TV programs to tell us how glad they were that we chose to fly on Jet Blue.
I was surprised that no one has yet given one good reason why they kept all those people on the tarmac on Wednesday for 8 hours or more, with no fresh air, no food, 3 bathrooms for 300 people, etc.
Unconscionable. I think if I had been on one of those flights, I would surely be in jail tonight.
I noticed that the Jet Blue personnel were exceedingly communicative today. I think they are frightened by the prospect of a consumer revolt after the Valentine's Day strandings. The terminals were probably swarming with Lawyers looking to sign people up for class action suits.
The standard airline customer service normally consists of conscious and assertive with-holding any useful information. Hey why bother? As long as all the airlines do it they can force the customers to actually vie with one another for one of three hundred seats that are too small for anyone who is bigger than the average circus dwarf.
I'm surprised they haven't come up with a reality show pitting travelers against one another racing and physically attacking one another to win a cramped seat near one of the working toilets. No wonder there have not been any more terrorist attacks by plane. The Imams think it is cruel and unusual to force someone to travel by commercial air liner as a prerequisite to get to paradise and the 72 virgins.
Every time I travel I am reminded of how awful the system is. The Security checkpoints make you want to laugh or cry hysterically because they are a microcosm of our general attitude toward safety. One guy had a bomb in his shoe 5 years ago, and we still have to take off our sneakers to get through security. Little old lady nuns are being felt-up by high school drop outs and probable illegal immigrants (swarthy people of dubious citizenship with accents so heavy that you cannot understand their questions or instructions)who seem to be the only people who will work for TSA at $8.50 an hour. Thank you, Homeland security. Boy I feel safer, don't you?
The American attitude toward safety is hysterical. A small fraction of kids are seriously allergic to nuts; so all preschoolers in the building are forbidden to bring peanut butter sandwiches. Some klutz's bang their heads and now everyone is required to wear helmets. Next thing you will hear that a couple of birds got sick and we will shut down Canada to keep the geese out, declaring war if they try to invade. We are an insane society, driven by fear mongers, content-challenged news programs, and a poor understanding of risk.
I think the airline industry generally sells misery. I know this because they admit that the seats are not big enough, most of them enforce class discrimination which leads to envy and hatred, they lie about their on time performance, the food, if they have any, sucks and they force us all to get sick if anyone on the plane is sick. Check out the salaries of Airline Execs. They make more than the President of Scotland.
But in the Tampa airport today, the Jet Blue people today were all about setting expectations. They had actual people on the counter today instead of those self service check-in machines where the customer does the work and the counter people just check your id and slap bar coded stickers on your luggage. They kept us informed of the progress of the flight that was delayed in leaving NYC - the one that would take us to Boston. One we got on board, they kept interrupting the TV programs to tell us how glad they were that we chose to fly on Jet Blue.
I was surprised that no one has yet given one good reason why they kept all those people on the tarmac on Wednesday for 8 hours or more, with no fresh air, no food, 3 bathrooms for 300 people, etc.
Unconscionable. I think if I had been on one of those flights, I would surely be in jail tonight.
2/14/2007
More Beach Notes
Sarasota - Valentines Day
Fortunately, I was prepared for the day. I had bought a nice card and the traditional heart-shaped box of chocolates. Another potential Hallmark disaster averted.
Aol had featured the list of the 10 worst Valentine gifts - eg a close up photo of one's pride and joy, an ironing board, a coupon for $5 off an oil change. I was feeling pretty smug, I admit it. I am well past such ill-thought-out tokens of affection.
It was a beautiful day here at the beach, following last night's rain. I was up at 7:15, awakening from a realistic dream, where I was being hunted by gangsters who had mistaken me for some shmuck who owed them money. It was a case of mistaken identity, but there was a sense of terror when I realized that the fellows who had come to beat the snot out of me were totally uninterested in whether I was the perp or not. Some one needed to be beat-up, and the boss "did not like excuses." They got the same pay no matter who they beat-up. When I asserted that real bad guy would eventually have to be beat-up when the mistake was cleared up, and Mr. Big would be unhappy, they just laughed. Just as the big guy was putting on his enforcer gloves, I woke up with a bead of perspiration on my brow. I was relieved to see the beach our of the window, and the sun showing pink in the eastern sky.
Throughout my morning ablutions, I kept thinking about how bureaucratic the mob was. Inefficient too.
Later, I was able to get in a swim in the ocean. The water is about 62 degrees - kind of chilly but tolerable. The weather for the next two days is forecast to be colder, so that it most likely the end of swimming. Tonight I had to wear a long sleeved shirt. Brr. Tomorrow we will take the rental car and do some exploring. With the GPS system we can find anything.
Fortunately, I was prepared for the day. I had bought a nice card and the traditional heart-shaped box of chocolates. Another potential Hallmark disaster averted.
Aol had featured the list of the 10 worst Valentine gifts - eg a close up photo of one's pride and joy, an ironing board, a coupon for $5 off an oil change. I was feeling pretty smug, I admit it. I am well past such ill-thought-out tokens of affection.
It was a beautiful day here at the beach, following last night's rain. I was up at 7:15, awakening from a realistic dream, where I was being hunted by gangsters who had mistaken me for some shmuck who owed them money. It was a case of mistaken identity, but there was a sense of terror when I realized that the fellows who had come to beat the snot out of me were totally uninterested in whether I was the perp or not. Some one needed to be beat-up, and the boss "did not like excuses." They got the same pay no matter who they beat-up. When I asserted that real bad guy would eventually have to be beat-up when the mistake was cleared up, and Mr. Big would be unhappy, they just laughed. Just as the big guy was putting on his enforcer gloves, I woke up with a bead of perspiration on my brow. I was relieved to see the beach our of the window, and the sun showing pink in the eastern sky.
Throughout my morning ablutions, I kept thinking about how bureaucratic the mob was. Inefficient too.
Later, I was able to get in a swim in the ocean. The water is about 62 degrees - kind of chilly but tolerable. The weather for the next two days is forecast to be colder, so that it most likely the end of swimming. Tonight I had to wear a long sleeved shirt. Brr. Tomorrow we will take the rental car and do some exploring. With the GPS system we can find anything.
2/11/2007
Beach notes
Sarasota, Florida - Lido Key
We just came back from a leisurely dinner at Cafe Baci - a fabulous Italian Restaurant where they make their own pasta and the red sauce is the best I've ever tasted. The veal Parmigiana was excellent and I could barely finish the cheese cake with macadamia nuts and coconut. My wife could not finish her eggplant P. We has a delightful dinner and the bill was around $55. Not bad. Kind of makes you want to spend more time in places where you can have an excellent dining experience but not feel that you got rooked. A glass of nice red wine would have enhanced the meal, but we have resigned ourselves to sticking out the non drinking thing for another 6 months.
The rental car has one of those Magellan GPS navigation systems, which has been a great thing to have. Yesterday we drove up to St. Petersburg to visit a friend who had recently moved down here from Boston. The GPS got us to her parking lot without a hitch. Goodbye Mapquest hello GPS.
The weather has been great. Everyday has been sunny and warm. It is a bit chilly during our early morning beach stroll, so we are forced to wear our sweatshirts - at least on the way out. On the way back the warming sun invites us to shed a layer. By the time we emerge from late breakfast, it feels hot in a tee shirt. I slather myself with sp30 and sit on the balcony to read. An afternoon breeze kicks up, ruffling the ocean and bringing a nice cooling relief from the baking 74 degree sun.
After the afternoon nap, we emerge to forage for dinner. So far we have found willing purveyors of victuals and potable liquids, which they are willing to exchange for a piece of plastic.
We have been keeping up with the important news (eg, the Anna Nicole Smith story - another example how 24 hour news coverage can contain almost zero factual information.) We watch the weather forecast hoping to hear of a blizzard back home so we can enjoy our balmy slothfulness just a smidgen more.
OK I know, this blog is supposed to be about work issues... so here is my Zen observation of the day. As we walked the beach this morning, I noticed that there were impressions made by people who had also walked along the shore this morning.
It reminded me of the workplace. Where the marks that people make, last about as long as the next wave, or at best the next change of tide. All the time we spend, thinking our work is important - and maybe it is, for a moment, then, splash.
2/08/2007
Climactic Induced Journeys
This morning in Boston, it is colder than a witch's you-know-what. Twenty degrees with a brisk wind, with a wind chill factor of "Too Cold to Go Outside." I think it is worse in upstate New York and back in Chicago.
Today, we will venture forth, however, because we have airplane reservations and there is a rental car waiting for us in Tampa, Florida.
Please don't view this as gloating, but as a heartfelt expression of hope that those of you who are stuck going to the office will "Have a nice day, freeze-ass."
Actually, you frigid stay-at-homes can take comfort in the knowledge that the temps in Sarasota have dropped sharply. The 3 day forecast is for daytime temps that are barely over 70 degrees. This is only a 40 degree delta! So, we will probably have a lousy time, lazing on the warm balcony, gazing at the pristine beach, reading a leisurely novel or quaffing a refreshing iced tea. Should we venture to the beach, I am sure that the incessant squawking of sea fowl will disturb us, and those scantily clad young females that often infest the beach will serve-up their usual annoying distractions.
We sincerely hope the weather in the Northeast improves, since we have to keep the house heated (for the cats) and I could use a little break on heating costs, to help make up for the daily restaurant breakfasts, fried grouper sandwiches with lobster bisque at lunch and expensive fine dinners.
Oh and not to forget the fresh squeezed Florida orange juice - chilled, but not frozen.
:-)
Today, we will venture forth, however, because we have airplane reservations and there is a rental car waiting for us in Tampa, Florida.
Please don't view this as gloating, but as a heartfelt expression of hope that those of you who are stuck going to the office will "Have a nice day, freeze-ass."
Actually, you frigid stay-at-homes can take comfort in the knowledge that the temps in Sarasota have dropped sharply. The 3 day forecast is for daytime temps that are barely over 70 degrees. This is only a 40 degree delta! So, we will probably have a lousy time, lazing on the warm balcony, gazing at the pristine beach, reading a leisurely novel or quaffing a refreshing iced tea. Should we venture to the beach, I am sure that the incessant squawking of sea fowl will disturb us, and those scantily clad young females that often infest the beach will serve-up their usual annoying distractions.
We sincerely hope the weather in the Northeast improves, since we have to keep the house heated (for the cats) and I could use a little break on heating costs, to help make up for the daily restaurant breakfasts, fried grouper sandwiches with lobster bisque at lunch and expensive fine dinners.
Oh and not to forget the fresh squeezed Florida orange juice - chilled, but not frozen.
:-)
2/02/2007
Following Orders
In light of my recent brush with the Law, readers have been flooding my inbox, wondering if I am some sort of anti-American anarchist scofflaw. Let me set the record straight.
It is true that I'm not good at following orders that don't make sense to me. This trait has dogged me since I was in junior high school, when I decided that History and Algebra were areas of learning that were too boring to spend any unnecessary time on.
This unwillingness to accept unreasonable authority also got me in trouble when I was in the US Air Force, where I was almost busted for ignoring a stupid order of a (drunken) Master Sergent who thought it would be entertaining to have me shine his boots.
I suspect that most of my former managers would assert that my failure to internalize marching orders has been responsible for those not-so-scintillating performance reviews that I received as an employee. Most former bosses probably saw me as a prima donna who could not be counted-on to march to the beat of the bosses drum. I believe that even the most critical of them would (reluctantly) admit that I did good work, but it was only on projects that were my idea. My inability to meet arbitrary deadlines is well documented in the secret files of the Human Resources Departments of my ex-companies.
I wish this rebellious streak could be attributed to some inner courage, or artistic nature; but I sometimes think I am simply burdened with an overdeveloped sense of right and wrong. This, in addition to the Irish and Dutch genes that comprise the biggest part of my DNA, generates an eerie obstinacy that goes well beyond "just plain stubborn." In the right environment, stubborn righteousness might be viewed in a positive light, even seen as a wondrous gift, but alas, I have yet to find such an environment.
The truth is: I have no difficulty following rules that make sense. I believe in mandatory auto liability insurance, dog leash laws, and noise ordinances. In the workplace, I subscribe to rules that benefit the organization such as being on time for meetings and not stealing copier toner cartridges. I also believe that paying one's just share of taxes and not making loud noise are examples of laws that benefit the community - even though they might attenuate the personal pleasure of some individuals.
So, there you go: I do believe in laws and rules. They make civilization possible, after all. Without rules, you cannot play games, conduct business or fight battles.
Furthermore, I agree that the Boss has the power to create and enforce rules. When a rule or directive passes the sniff test of my infallible sense of right and wrong I agree to be subject to it. If not, I generally exempt myself from it.
If I cannot see the benefit or purpose in an order - or, worse - if I question the motives of the rule-giver, then my Dutch-Irish kicks-in with full throttle.
I have frequently observed that rules are often made by little tyrants - just because they have the power, and find entertainment in making subordinates run around - much the way a small boy enjoys disturbing an anthill.
John Kerry might still be a candidate for president if he had only told the students, "Study hard or you could end-up getting stuck wearing a Mickee Dees uniform taking orders for fries and burgers -- or worse, end-up brown-nosing some fat bastard ego-maniac."
I wish somebody had told me that back during the botched joke that was my high school study hall behavior - when I was not studying History and Algebra.
It is true that I'm not good at following orders that don't make sense to me. This trait has dogged me since I was in junior high school, when I decided that History and Algebra were areas of learning that were too boring to spend any unnecessary time on.
This unwillingness to accept unreasonable authority also got me in trouble when I was in the US Air Force, where I was almost busted for ignoring a stupid order of a (drunken) Master Sergent who thought it would be entertaining to have me shine his boots.
I suspect that most of my former managers would assert that my failure to internalize marching orders has been responsible for those not-so-scintillating performance reviews that I received as an employee. Most former bosses probably saw me as a prima donna who could not be counted-on to march to the beat of the bosses drum. I believe that even the most critical of them would (reluctantly) admit that I did good work, but it was only on projects that were my idea. My inability to meet arbitrary deadlines is well documented in the secret files of the Human Resources Departments of my ex-companies.
I wish this rebellious streak could be attributed to some inner courage, or artistic nature; but I sometimes think I am simply burdened with an overdeveloped sense of right and wrong. This, in addition to the Irish and Dutch genes that comprise the biggest part of my DNA, generates an eerie obstinacy that goes well beyond "just plain stubborn." In the right environment, stubborn righteousness might be viewed in a positive light, even seen as a wondrous gift, but alas, I have yet to find such an environment.
The truth is: I have no difficulty following rules that make sense. I believe in mandatory auto liability insurance, dog leash laws, and noise ordinances. In the workplace, I subscribe to rules that benefit the organization such as being on time for meetings and not stealing copier toner cartridges. I also believe that paying one's just share of taxes and not making loud noise are examples of laws that benefit the community - even though they might attenuate the personal pleasure of some individuals.
So, there you go: I do believe in laws and rules. They make civilization possible, after all. Without rules, you cannot play games, conduct business or fight battles.
Furthermore, I agree that the Boss has the power to create and enforce rules. When a rule or directive passes the sniff test of my infallible sense of right and wrong I agree to be subject to it. If not, I generally exempt myself from it.
If I cannot see the benefit or purpose in an order - or, worse - if I question the motives of the rule-giver, then my Dutch-Irish kicks-in with full throttle.
I have frequently observed that rules are often made by little tyrants - just because they have the power, and find entertainment in making subordinates run around - much the way a small boy enjoys disturbing an anthill.
John Kerry might still be a candidate for president if he had only told the students, "Study hard or you could end-up getting stuck wearing a Mickee Dees uniform taking orders for fries and burgers -- or worse, end-up brown-nosing some fat bastard ego-maniac."
I wish somebody had told me that back during the botched joke that was my high school study hall behavior - when I was not studying History and Algebra.
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