National Poetry Month - Illusions of Certainty

Illusions of Certainty

You are doomed

You drivers of gas guzzling SUVs

who do not recycle

and your vaccinated children

drinking flouride-treated water.

Doomed, I tell you.

You zealots who evangelize,

you priests of the afterlife,

sowing fruitless seeds of eternal promise,

empty promises echoing like empty drums,

you who kill to the glory of your god --

especially you.

And also,

deniers, believers, skeptics, 

fools and liars  --

all doomed.

No one will be saved

whether they be

parachute jumpers, poets,

librarians, lawyers.

scuba divers, reporters,

weather forecasters,

innocents, evil-doers.

All will die.

All, save these immortal words.

Dennis E. Noonan

April is National Poetry Month

Modern Art Modern Religion Modern Science

Jackson Pollack doesn’t fool me

I am onto him and his ilk

with their ordered messes  

brassy bold splotches of bright

as if such a rendition was something

worthy of our notice.

And those captains of trust and power

vested in robes and suits who

with thundering voices tell us what is real

whilst they plunder and pillage.

Like rats in cages we endure the

random shocks dispensed by our captors

who want us scared and sedated

tractable lab animals trained to respond to cues.

Senses rubbed raw, our beleaguered brains

pulse with rage at the lies

until finally, 

we implode into smithereens.

Dennis Noonan  

It Should have Been March

April is poetry month.

It says so right here on the flyer

I got at the free library.

I suppose I should be thinking great thoughts

reading great lines or even composing verse

but the world is not quite done with me.

While idle poets are gazing at the sunrise

noticing a certain slant of vernal light

imagining the sound of wood oars against gun rails

contemplating the shape of lilies,

I am busy in the wooden shed, syphoning

gasoline from the snow blower to the lawnmower

draining oil, stowing the snow shovels 'till oyster time.

Now, plows are churning stones in the glacial earth

fields lay still, in fecund anticipation

seeds and compost, clamoring,

elbowing-out high falootin’ thoughts about

spiders’ webs, unrequited love, lost vigor,

regrets.

No. I have no time for poetry in April.

Dennis Noonan

An Easter Poem

Two Kinds of Wind

The strong morning sun ignites the drab bark

of swaying skeletons in my yard

bony arms graceful in a tai chi dance

harmonic in clear morning’s breaths

a mute shout-out to the Easter Bunny:

"Hurry with your little brown eggs, you little shit

bring with you the heat that makes our sap rise"

While I, at my keyboard, feel the gas rise,

silently fart with noise-some gusts, 

driving the normally nonjudgmental cats

to flee the room.

Alien Abduction

I apologize to anyone who actually checked here during the past month, hoping for some witty insight or clever turn of phrase that might shine a ray of sunshine on your otherwise dingy day, but I have been absent.

The thing is, I have been away.  Oh, I know what you're thinking: he has been in jail, or drying-out at some secret sanatorium, or perhaps stranded mid-ocean on once of those dreaded Carnival cruises.  No, these guesses are nowhere near the story I am about to tell.

It started, as many stories do, on a dark and stormy night.  I was dabbling in purple prose, which in retrospect, betook the entirety of my eternal being  to meld in oneness with the universal embrace of pure self.

That's when the Aliens abducted me.  Thank god they weren't like brain eating zombies or some bloodsucking weirdo creatures.  No they were your everyday Invaders from Mars with big grey heads saucer eyes and tiny arms. They spoke English with a Portuguese accent but I could understand most of their commands and questions.

"Why me?" I thought, as they dragged me into the spaceship, disguised with markings of a green Servpro  Van.  They even copied the slogan on the van which (BTW) has to be the best marketing slogan I can think of.  "Like it never even happened."   If you saw any of the Men in Black movies you recall that they had a device called the Neuralyzer that flashed and if you looked at it without wearing Ray Bans it made you forget what you had seen any alien stuff. Like it never even happened.
Well, that's what they did to me, so who knows what happened after the painful probing? Well, not as painful as all that. You get used to it after a while.   All I know is on the way back,  they took me to a Dairy Queen and bought me a Blizzard.  It was awesome.  They promised to return,  but so far the only calls I've had were some contest operators congratulating me.  I've won a free vacation.  "Who wants to go to Florida when you have already been to Mars?" I ask them.  They respond that they will take my number off their calling list so no one else will bother me.  

I have to take this call.  Caller ID says it is "Unidentified Caller."

Things I need to tell my Grandkids

Here are some of the things I wish someone had convinced me to do in my youth

1. Keep a journal.  It doesn’t have to be fancy, just an inexpensive three ring notebook will do.  Adopt a habit of writing in it in it every day.  Write about what happened to you that day.  How did your plan for the day work out?  What are you going to do tomorrow?  What seems important to you?  Capture ideas, lessons, mistakes, special experiences – arguments or lucky breaks.            [I started keeping a journal in the mid 80’s.] When you re-read these thoughts and opinions years later, you will get a true perspective of who you are, and what your dominant thoughts are.  What you are paying attention to at any period in your life is what creates your Reality.  Also, you will realize how many details we forget.

2. Don’t get fat.  Being overweight accounts for many associated maladies.
3. Don’t let mistakes get you down.  Almost everything one learns in life is through mistakes.  Fear is the biggest force that slows us down.  Fear of appearing stupid, or fear of failure.  Try to see those mistakes as positive learning opportunities.
4. When in doubt, ask.
5. Be positive.  If you cannot say anything positive be quiet.  Do not offer criticism unless it is requested.
6. Justify others’ trust in you. Deliver on your promises.  Don’t gossip. Show up on time, ready to go.
7. Be likable but accept the fact that not everyone will like you.  Don’t waste your time trying to please them.
8. Exercise every day.  Take up a sport that makes exercise interesting.
9. Do not start smoking.  It is not cool. It will not only shorten your life, but ruin your lungs, which you will need if you live beyond age 40.
10. Don’t believe anything your peers tell you without authoritative corroboration. See this tattoo on my arm? When I was thirteen My buddy said they only last for six months and then fade away. It didn’t.
11. Be very reluctant to do anything that is irreversible.  e.g., tattoos

As long as I'm here...

We've all been in unpleasant situations when we thought, or said aloud, "I don't want to be here."   Whether it is in the chair at the dentist's office, or sitting in the cramped middle row seat of an airplane on a 6 hr. trip, or in a boring monthly status meeting, everyone has experienced extended moments when they wanted to be somewhere else.

This is an inevitable fact of existence. Much as we would like to be in complete control, we simply cannot eliminate unpleasant experiences from our lives. More often than we care to admit, we are subject to the decisions of others as to how we spend time.  If you have a spouse, a parent or boss, someone is making you do stuff you didn't want to do.  As long as we accept the conventions of civilized society, we will have to stand in lines, endure traffic jams, go to events that we so not wish to attend, be somewhere on-time, suffer boredom, smile when we actually feel annoyed, sit in medical office waiting rooms, and so-on*. 

But, sitting in a chair in a waiting room, or even standing in line can be pleasant activities in the right context.  If you have an interesting book to read or someone to talk to, the time tends to pass pleasantly.  But if you are alone with nothing to read, time goes slowly and negative thoughts start to take over. You start to feel annoyed. 

Most of what we experience actually occurs in the mind, not in the external world.  Emotional reactions, such as anxiety, fear, stress, annoyance may seem involuntary, but maybe they can be controlled.    


Nowadays when I feel myself becoming annoyed, I try to remind myself, "... as long as I am here, I might as well have fun."    This simple thought actually works to change the focus from the negative to a more positive channel.  Just the mental exercise of willing yourself to think of ways to make the experience more tolerable can cast a different light on the situation.   



*One thing that has been working for me lately is Crossword Puzzles.  Despite my love of words, I have never been good at doing crossword puzzles.  I've often derided my many friends who do crosswords as "having a good vocabulary, but a diminished sense of context."  I never had much patience for completing them.   However, I started doing the crosswords in the daily paper whenever I had to sit and wait for something, and pretty soon got hooked.  I am still challenged by the hard ones (eg, WSJ and NYT) but I can usually finish 97% of the ones in the weekday Globe.  When they deliver it. I believe this is a good example of turning a lemon (boring wait time) into lemonade.





 

The Fall of Humanities

My thoughts on the public debate about the value of a liberal arts education. 

Student interest in the humanities — which include the classics, literature, languages, history, philosophy, and religion — has dropped dramatically in recent years. Only 8 percent of American undergraduates majored in a humanities field in 2007, compared with 17 percent in 1966, according to the American Academy of Arts and Sciences.

Competition being what it is, many parents have pushed their children towards STEM fields (science, technology, engineering and math)  -- fields of study that are perceived to be most valued as careers.  21% of today's college students are pursuing a degree in business. Let's hope there are jobs for all of them.

I wish colleges could teach future managers how not to be a dick, but where would you even find people who could teach such a course?   

One caller to a talk show the other day summed up the elitist attitude of some technically educated  people: "Let's face it, Engineers are responsible for creating most of the wealth since they design and build the products.  All other disciplines are peripheral."

Hmmn I thought to myself, "Maybe so, but it takes an English major to tell consumers how to use the foolish thing."

Skip This Post if You Hate America

Meme:  an idea, behavior, style, or usage that spreads from person to person within a culture

I am not sure why we needed the word "meme" added to every day parlance.  We already had several servicable figures of speech in the American English language to describe the viral spread of an idea or fashion ---"Fad", "trend", "craze", "vogue",   to cite a few.  

But some folks just need to show how hip they are, so now we hip bloggers talk about memes rather than fads.

One of the sillier memes that I have heard in recent months is:  "Obama hates America."  It is  repeated daily* on every conservative radio show.    You hear the same rhetoric if you listen to any of the programs on FOX network

Recently, a variation of this trite conservative meme was uttered by Rudy Giuliani.  "Obama doesn't love America."  Along with sly insinuations that Obama was "not brought up to love America, like you and I."    And the president doesn't say nice things like Reagan and Clinton have said about America.
The hint of course is that Obama is a secret Muslim who despises the American way of life and is determined to destroy America.

Well, friends I am fed-up with the absurdity of conservatives on TV and Radio.  Last week I heard a guy named Mike Siegal say that Obama was an "unindicted co-conspirator" in the death of the female hostage who was reportedly killed  by ISIS.  Why?  Because he failed to sign-off on a mission to send US military units to rescue the hostage and some others.  This ankle biter sits behind a radio mike and asserts that the president is a murderer, to the delight of the morons who call-in/listen to the show.  

The rhetoric is more than absurd.  Words are stretched and folded back on each other to create a fictitious meme that has apparent substance but cannot survive unless the perceiver has drunk the Kool-Aid (another meme) which clouds the mind to any Truth other than the party line.

Don't get me wrong, I do not think Obama has been a great leader.  I think his lack of experience as an administrator coupled with some poor cabinet choices have contributed significantly to the deterioration of the US economic and diplomatic clout.  I would not vote for him again if I had it to do over.  The point is that there is room for legitimate criticism - based on results.    

Conservative talking heads seem to forget why Obama got elected in the first place.   A lot of voters felt like we needed a drastic change in 2008.  There was a huge shift of independent voters who had voted for Bush in 2004 but who became alienated by the Bush administration's arrogant excesses in the name of the 'war on terror' -  which had badly damaged US credibility around the world. 
Voters were further driven away from the republican party by the failure of the "small government" party to keep the government small and instead of tax and spend, they were cut-tax and spend.  Added to that was the palpable weakness of the McCain-Palin ticket.  Then came the stunning collapse of the financial sector, widespread job loss, and the clear indictment against unregulated free markets.   Compared to the alternative, Obama seemed to the majority like "not such a bad guy".  
If Obama was as much of a fascist as they claim he would certainly raid the offices and put these assholes in a cold and smelly jail for twenty years.  I know I would, if I was in charge.

Bored With Social Media

 Social media is boring and annoying.

The news event that prompted this epiphany was not one I particularly cared about.  It was the dedication of the new Ted Kennedy Center,  yesterday.  The mainstream news stories in print and on TV  were mostly upbeat, citing the strength of Kennedy's ability to form coalitions and find ways to compromise.

But a few ankle biting bloggers and muckraking radio hosts could not pass-up the opportunity to remind us of the low points of Kennedy's long career in the spotlight:  The infamous Chappaquiddick accident, and several (one might even say "too many") embarrassments involving alcohol and loose women.   

I am not a stalwart Kennedy supporter or fan, but I see no point in digging-up old dirt and thrusting it in the faces of those who wish to remember the man's accomplishments.  It's just small-minded and unseemly to stomp on another's memory.  In fact, it's shameful.

Which brings me to my point about social media.  There was a review of a book in todays Globe about how the Internet creates a perfect medium for public shaming.    

I was unaware of the trending nature of this phrase but you get a lot of hits when you Google it.

A conservative colleague of mine writes a blog that is virtually 99% full of shame.  He spends his day scouring the internet for juicy negative tid-bits about any politician or celebrity who is  liberal or progressive.  His posts are one sided, monotone and cynical.  He should be writing scripts for FOX news instead of wasting his time writing screeds that no one reads.    

See what I did there?  I could not help trying to write some shaming things about his blog, because I --- like every other human being -- am annoyed by information I am uncomfortable with.  We do not change our fundamental beliefs because of the conflicting info, instead, we become angry at the source of the conflicting info.  We want to shoot the messenger.  

There is another muckraker local radio talk guy and columnist for the worst newspaper in Boston, Howie Carr. His mocking sense of humor appeals to the lowest level of mouth-breathing NRA Liberal-haters.  Just listening to a few minutes of his callers tells you everything you need to know about low information ankle biting zealots.

When you read or listen to these nattering nabobs of negativism (thank you Spiro Agnew),
it is disturbing.  Because many of the accusations are true, at least partially true.  I do not know if these guys think they are are preaching to the choir or attempting to sway the congregation.  But if it is the latter, they should know they are creating just the opposite effect from what they intend. 

I am not going to try to educate anyone about Cognitive Dissonance. Look it up, you will see what I mean.

BTW, the same phenomenon is extant on the Liberal/Progressive side.  Facebook and Twitter provide click-easy ways to "share" a social philosophy that you agree with.  Preachers of doom screeching that Global Warming deniers are all unscientific boobs, gun owners are foolish co-conspiritors to every shooting incident, etc, etc.   

No one ends up convincing anyone of anything they didn't already believe.

If you deleted all the posts in Twitter or FB or Blogs that try to shame someone, all you have left are braggy posts about kids and travels, cute cat pix, and boring throwback pictures of someone's drunk uncle posing in speedoos.

It's just annoying.

Aging Homeowners Dilema

Well, I'm back in print, (or online anyhow)  See my latest piece in the Boston Globe about aging in place.

click on this  link

If you leave a comment on the Globe page (as opposed to twitter or Facebook)  about the keen insights or even to add a thought that I had omitted  it makes me seem more popular.

The Fragility of Memory

Brian Williams has had the worst week ever for a journalist. Disclosure of his mis-remembrances have become the news. 
The sudden departure of the veteran NBC newscaster has enthralled the media.  The feeding frenzy of news hyenas is disturbing.  Williams seems to have few friends in the business; he has been excoriated up and down the ideological spectrum.  

Jon Stewart on the Daily Show last week admitted  that he and Williams are good friends, then proceeded to skewer him.

Now that's journalistic integrity from a fake news guy.  





It started with the revelation of an embellished recounting of a helicopter ride to Baghdad twelve years, in 2002.

Now, most of us would have given him a "mulligan" on that one. Who among us has not mis-remembered a key event in our lives or hasn't embellished a story to make it more compelling?  (As a writer, I make-up stuff all the time and justify any integrity issues by playing the "literary License" card.)  

But then another slew of "false" memory situations have been whispered about - The time I met the Pope, Tom Brokaw and me at the Berlin Wall, The body floating by in Katrina, and others that you have already read somewhere else.  Its not that these memories are so dastardly, or evil --after all, no one was hurt by him trying to include himself in important world events.  It is real life imitating art, reminiscent of  "Zellig," or "Forrest Gump." 

So, this pattern of mis-remembering events that can be proven to be false will threaten Williams' reputation as a serious journalist.  On the other hand, Hillary Clinton's famous memory error (having to duck bullets in Baghdad) was forgiven by the faithful.  Perhaps Williams can be rehabilitated also.  I just hope we don't start having a bunch of women coming forward with accusations of assault or cell phone boner pictures.

Maybe Williams should apply for Jon Stewart's job.  He could say he has had experience with fake news.... sorry could not resist that.
                                              ***

A Confession

Have you ever  been in a group when the conversation turned to celebrity sightings, and you "borrowed" an experience from someone else.  I feel that it is time to recant a false memory of my own: I hereby confess that I have never encountered Leon Redbone in a restaurant.  The story I have recounted several times over the  years was actually the experience told to me by a workmate many years ago.  Whenever the topic turned to celebrity sightings, I

Leon Redbone - Never met him.

would trot this vignette out with only a slight tingle of self awareness that it had not really happened to me.  It seemed better to lie, than to have no story to tell.  There, now that you know, do you think I should be punished or reviled?  I rationalize it by reminding myself  that one must never let the facts spoil a good story.    

Research shows that we constantly edit our memories.  (Don't expect me to do the work to support that statement.  The proof is everywhere on the Internet.  Don't be so lazy.)  It's not a matter of morality or ethics, since Truth is what our memories tell us is true.

My point is that much of what we believe to be true is based on our memories of events that we saw with our own eyes.  But if you have siblings (or adult children) you probably realized that there is an unexplained phenomenon where events/conversations that  you recall in great detail are denied by the other witnesses.

The fragility of memory is a little intimidating, especially as we age, where the grasp on reality seems like a small and slippery rail on an icy staircase.    

What's on Your List?

As the year draws to a close, the need is strong in the hearts of  pundits, bloviators and blogsters to offer their personal list of the Best, Worst, Funniest, Lamest ... You know how it goes.

I am not immune to such pressures, so here is my list of the most subtle pleasures I can think of in 30 seconds:

   A cold pint of IPA on draft
   The smell of Bacon sizzling in a pan
   The sound of wind in the tall pines
   Waves rhythmically crashing on shore on a warm sandy beach
   Heat lightning
   Warm Gingerbread
   Wes Montgomery on the radio
    Home-made gravy
    A Summer afternoon nap
    A Snowblower that starts on the first pull
    A clever retort

(Time's up)

What does your list look like?

Thanksgiving Memories

Thanksgiving has always been my favorite holiday. Growing up in Watertown, my memories of those family feasts are of happy times. The holiday began on Thanksgiving Eve when my mother would start preparing the stuffing. The house would be full of delicious odors as mounds of chopped onions and celery and Jimmy Dean sausage were sautéed,  then mixed with bread crumbs, seasoning, and "secret Irish spices" – which was our joking reference to plain salt and pepper.

Mom would be up at six the next morning, making the final preparations and getting the turkey into the oven. By the time we kids got out of bed, the house was already warm with the aroma of roasting turkey. Store-bought turkeys always came with a bag of bird parts, called "giblets." Mom would boil the giblets in a pan to feed them to the cats, so they could have Thanksgiving too.

I read somewhere that some of our most vivid memories are associated with odor.  To me, there is nothing that says "home" quite like the fragrance of a turkey cooking in the oven. The whole house smells like peace love and harmony.

I have happy memories of those days when we were all young and healthy. My grandparents came to our house for holiday feasts.  They lived in a tiny cottage near Revere Beach. They would drive 17 miles along winding Rte. 16 east to our house on Robbins Road. I still remember one time when they arrived at our house in the old maroon Plymouth sedan. Grandpa was a careful driver and he would frequently get honked-at for moving too slowly for some speed demons. He would respond with colorful curses picked up during his Navy days. We were very amused when we asked my grandmother about the traffic, she remarked, "Well, there sure were a lot of (expletive deleted)s on the road today!" She was of course quoting the words Grandpa had yelled out the window to anyone who honked at him.   

Usually we kids would go to the Watertown-Belmont football game. Dad might walk down with us if the weather was good. After the game we would return home, and the smell of the roasting turkey would hit us as we walked through the door. We had various chores. Mine was to peel and cut the turnip and squash for boiling. While the vegetables were boiling, Mom would serve hors d'oeuvres of cooked shrimp, nuts, celery and olives. For drinks there was always chilled cider and sodas for the young people and plenty of bubbly for the adults.    

Finally the dinner would be served and eight of us would gather around the table. We all stuffed ourselves on roast turkey with mashed potatoes, squash, turnip, green peas, cranberry jelly, dinner rolls. Everyone raved about Mom's gravy. She always said that it was because she used the same water that was used to boil the turnips and onions. I still do not know how mom got everything on the table while still piping hot. We didn't have microwaves back then.

A few years later my daughters would grow-up in Wellesley, but we celebrated Thanksgiving in a very similar manner. Thankfully, when the time came, my wife Judy took on the role of hostess and kept the same cherished recipes for stuffing, gravy, and all the rest: the traditional football game (against Needham), the dinner with all the fixin's – and then the visiting grandparents were our mom and dad.  

A few years ago, the Thanksgiving baton was passed to my eldest daughter, Erica. She has now assumed the role as holiday hostess and will be cooking the turkey this year.   

Now, We are the visiting grandparents. We will be driving over to Natick next Thursday afternoon. If you are going that way and you see a Dodge Caravan that seems to be going too slowly, please refrain from honking. I am just being a careful driver. It runs in the family.

A Non Pundit View

It seems every self-styled pundit is opinionating about the events in the world, I might as well toss my two cents into the pot.   

I must warn you in advance that I do not think of myself as a "pundit".  The amount of research and erudition for such a title is way beyond my intellectual energy. 

Plus, my aptitude for evangelism is nonexistent.

Most of the people I know who write blogs seem to think that they are possessed with a keener insight than the average citizen.  In fact, they often refer to those who might disagree with them as "low information voters"*.     

In addition, they feel a spiritual "calling" to try to bring the less-informed among us up-to-speed.  In case you have not been paying attention, the world is rapidly turning to shit.  And the single individual who is most responsible for the erosion of American values and the American Way of Life and the American Dream is none other than Barack Hussein Obama.  (Note that they like to remind you that his middle name is Hussein, in case you forgot that he is secretly a Muslim and a fascist).

After perusing many of these blogs, I find it difficult to believe that one person could be so flawed:
He takes too much vacation,  doesn't pay attention at security briefings, is considered a joke by other world leaders and much of the voting public,  squandered the treasury surplus that he inherited from his predecessor,  wasted trillions of dollars and thousands of lives on unnecessary military adventure... --oops forgive me, I was reading the Bush rap sheet by mistake.  

Sorry, I should have been sticking to the point.  Now where was I ,
....Fakes his birth certificate, hangs around with terrorists, hates white people, plays too much golf, can't speak without a teleprompter, was an affirmative action student, never published a piece in the Harvard law review, voted "present" as a Senator from Illinois, has no experience as an administration or manager, bows to foreign royalty,  lies to congress and the American people every day, is on the wrong side of any issue that you can think of (Climate change, pipeline construction, minimum wage, immigration, border control, taxation and income inequality, health care, and especially foreign policy.)

The aforementioned pundits seem to feel that cherry picking articles from fringe media  is sufficient research.  They have no problem articulating the things that should have been done. 

You are probably thinking, "Monday morning quarterbacking is no substitute for intelligent, balanced research."  But it's not as simple as that.  The psychological condition of many pundits is known as "confirmation bias. **"     

None of us is immune to confirmation bias.  It is natural for us to be attracted to people and ideas that agree with our strongly-held beliefs.  We literally tune-in to the programs and voices that preach the gospel we want to hear.  We tend to tune-out information that casts doubt on our sacred beliefs.   

It is nearly impossible for a lay person to decide which group of scientists is telling the truth when they talk about global warming.  The "evidence " is buried deep in the arcane source materials which ordinary people cannot understand - much less evaluate.  The Scientific majority say "Human activity is tied to Global Warming."  A small group of dissidents claim that the earth's temp has not risen in ten years. 

Even a casual student of history recognizes that over the eons scientific consensus has been wrong more that it has been right, so we tend to equate "consensus" with "opinion." 

Evangelists promote their beliefs as facts.  But we have to keep in mind that "fact" is just a word.  A fact is often just an opinion in disguise. 

========================================


*(Anyone who voted for Obama)  

**confirmation bias refers to the tendency to selectively search for and consider information that confirms one's beliefs.

election aftermath

The results  from yesterday's election are in.   Congratulations if your candidate won.

Most of us voters are just glad that it is over.  Now we can eat dinner without the phone ringing with yet another robocall message.  We will have less unwanted junk mail in our snail mailboxes (we have already blocked the senders of unwanted email).
We can watch a favorite program on TV without being besieged at every commercial break with attack ads showing the evil tendencies of the opponent.

Honestly, by the end of the election season, we have heard so much negative information (half-truths, innuendos, outright distortions) about every candidate that we don't want to vote for anyone.

Anyone with common sense realizes that the amount of money being spent in politics has effectively made a mockery out of the fundamental belief that you get the government that you (the majority) vote for.

I thought the Daily Show bit summarized it nicely:  click here for clip

I saw an interesting  video clip the other day, but can't find it at the moment.  It presented an argument that because of the influence of money, 10-12% of the richest people actually decide who gets nominated (funded), and subsequently who gets the most positive coverage -- resulting in election.  The little people get virtually no say in who runs the country.

Voting is merely a "feel-good" activity to give us the illusion that we have the government elected by the majority.  In reality it is just the opposite.

Pardon me if I sound cynical or pessimistic as I contemplate what the elections will accomplish.
But, I am not anticipating any of the major problems we face to be solved by the election of new rascals.   History has shown that money corrupts, and elected officials who were bought and paid for are not going to slap the hand that feeds.

Cleaning out the Garage

Lately I have been possessed by a rare desire to unclutter my surroundings.  Years of accumulated things have contributed to our basement and garage looking disturbingly like those homes of people on “The Hoarders” reality show.  (Don’t be judgie; we only have one cat.)

Yesterday, I was feeling particularly proud of myself for cleaning out the garage.  My goal was to clear enough space so one of our cars could be parked within.  As I was relating my trip to the dump with a carload of stuff, aunt Judy asked, "Where did you put Jen’s china?"

Me: Huh?

She: You know, the box of china that I told you about

Me: Were they blue?

She:  Yes.

Me: I looked at them and thought those were the ones that were chipped and worthless. 

She: No, I was saving them for Jen to look at.

Me: Oops

So the Good News is :  I finally got the garage cleaned out

The Not-so-good news:  The box of Limoge cups and dishes Judy was saving for our niece was being stored in the garage.  

 Unfortunately the (priceless) china has been inadvertently taken to the take-and-leave section of the Wellesley dump. 

(Incidentally I also took back some items I had previously found at the dump for example, an old oil painting of a young woman sitting at a harpsichord, a man playing a lute, and a woman who is singing. A nice piece but no frame, probably worthless.  Also,  an obviously faux “gold” chalice in a nice wooden box engraved with the words “Holy Grail.”)

Another Rental Car Rip-off Hertz and Platepass

Annoyance of the day: Another Rental Car rip-off - Hertz secret fees include and unholy alliance with a Company called Platepass.   Platepass is a transponder for automatic tolls.They don't tell you about it at the counter so you don't have the option to refuse it.  

If you go through a toll gate, they charge you an exorbitant "Administrative Fee" which they base on the # of days you rented the car, not on the day you actually used the transponder. 

My one and only trip through a toll booth was from Englewood CO to Denver Airport (30 miles). The tolls were $10 and the fee was and added $24. 

Hertz, you are dead to me from now on!  Don't ask for whom the bell Tolls,  it tills for you

I am not the only one who finds Platepass and Hertz compliance to be FRAUDULENT

http://www.consumeraffairs.com/travel/platepass-com.html   

New Ideas for Raising Money

The "Ice Bucket Challenge" has been the latest viral trend on social media and in the news.  Perhaps a million people have videoed themselves pouring icy water in their heads as an attention getting act to raise money and awareness for ALS.  Contributions have increased tenfold, according to ALS charity groups.

Such a successful fad cannot be ignored by fundraisers of other worthy causes.

I've been thinking about ways other charities could hijack the idea and make it work for them.  Here is a modest list. If you come up with other clever ideas write them as comments and maybe I'll publish them:

Shoot yourself in the Foot Challenge for Psoriasis

Show us your Tits for Breast Cancer

Group Moon challenge for hemorrhoids

Competitive bug eating for the Morbidly Obese

Shark baiting for Erectile Dysfunction

Playing "Chicken" on the railroad tracks for Deafness

Tasering for Tourettes

Politics is a Joke

In the WSJ today there was a review of "Politics is a Joke," a book about political humor and the relatively recent phenomenon, where serious candidates must appear on late night talk shows to assure the public that they have a sense of humor.

It was interesting to note that Bill Clinton was the first pol to appear on Johnny Carson's Tonight how.  But going back in time, I recall that  Presidential candidate Nixon did a "Sock it to me" cameo on the "Laugh-in" program back in 1968 (which he credited as one of the reasons he got elected.)

It is gratifying to consider that the US electorate prefers a leader who has a sense of humor.  I have always thought a sense of humor requires a having a sense of perspective.  The fundamental element of humor is the delight in the unexpected.  Humorless people hate surprises and unintended outcomes.

It was not surprising that Republican politicians are more likely to be the butt of the jokes than Democrats.   Claims that comedy shows and comedians tend to be liberal are true.  It follows that most of the mainstream media lean toward a "progressive" agenda.  It is a hallmark of the intellectually curious mind to dare to question the dogma of the past, to chuckle at irony, hypocrisy and paradox.

This is not to say that Conservatives lack a sense of humor.  They are big on fart jokes, puns, banana slips, ethnic jokes, and 3 stooges sight gags.  What they lack is the ability to laugh at themselves, to be silly, or to question their own fundamental beliefs.  Comedy is a world of color.  The Conservative sees things as chiaroscuro.

 (Look that up in your Funk and Wagnalls).

Beam us Home, Scotty

Returning home after traveling for ten days in the Rocky Mountains gives one a mixed sense of relief and regret.  The relief comes from a feeling of returning to the familiarity and safety of one's home.  The regret stems from the knowledge that the adventure is over.

Life is full of contradictions: I love being home; I love being in new places.

The problem with traveling is the actual process of traveling.  I enjoy seeing new places and meeting new people, but getting there is agony.   Planes, trains, automobiles are crowded, slow, and uncomfortable conveyances.  I look forward to the day when we can instantly "beam" ourselves to different places, like they do in the Star-trek movies.  

Public modes of transportation are the worst.  It seems like they allot fewer inches of seating space per person every year.  You would think that they would acknowledge the the fact that nearly 50% of the customers are XL.  Why do they want people to hate flying?

Southwest, which once boasted the most comfortable seating, has sacrificed the legroom so they could add a few more rows.  Their "open-seating" policy is  eroding.  Now you can jump the line for a few more bucks.  They don't feed you, anymore, and an adult beverage costs $7.   You elbow out a little old lady so you can beat her to the emergency exit row where you can get a precious extra few inches of legroom. The old hag glares at you as she passes down the aisle and mutters something about ungentlemanly behavior.  Hey, you say to yourself, this is what happens  -- when they treat you like cattle, you act like cattle. 

The journey started in Boston at 4 AM when our faithful friend George arrived to drive us to Logan Airport.  We have a complicated symbiotic relationship when it comes to air travel.  I always offer to drive friends and relatives to and from the airport and suggest that a quid pro quo on our next trip would be great.  This works out pretty well.  Since they built the Ted Williams tunnel, our trip to the airport is about 20 minutes during non-rush hour traffic.  For the record, our daughter was waiting to pick us up when we returned.  George and Jeanette had gone on their vacation to Azores.   I don't know how they go in, bit a few days after we returned we were back at Logan to pick them up.

Two of the best innovations of the century are the establishment of the Cell Phone Lot and airline flight tracker.  Now your driver knows how much your flight has been delayed, and can wait for your call or text to say "we have our bags."  Presto they are there at your terminal in a few minutes.  This makes it much easier than in the old days.   

One of my ideas for a retirement business was "Vacation Minders."  This would be a service where I offer to drive people to the airport and pick them up in their own vehicle and also check their houses, water the plants, etc. (No pet care).  I figured that some of the affluent families in the area would find that a useful service.  It would cost less than hiring a limo and having a trusted neighbor checking up on a daily basis would take some of the worries out of being away.  But as a procrastinator, I have never taken this idea off the drawing board. 

Maybe next year.  

A Quiet Day

It’s quiet around here this morning*.  No phones ringing from unwanted unidentified callers, no WiFi internet connection, no Cable TV.  None of the noise that we take for granted – SiriusXM music on the PC, no news, no Judge Judy, no fear-mongering about weather.  

FIOS is down.

We were able to call the Verizon Customer Service number on my wife’s I-phone.  A computer-generated woman’s voice wanted to have a dialog with me, but kept saying “I did not understand what you said.”  I guess we are in one of those near “dead” zones that Verizon never mentions in their TV ads when they are showing robust coverage to mobile phones in this area.  

We managed to get though the sequence of steps required to test the line.  Verizon assures me that their network is up and running, so the problem is with me.

I have performed all the tests and steps that the homeowner can do.  I have rebooted set-top boxes, reset the Wi-Fi router, unplugged and re-plugged the phone system.  

Nada, nada, nada.

The customer service line at Verizon is worse than a root canal.  You have to engage in an otherworldly dialog with the computer pretending to be a real woman.   "For security purposes" it asks you information that you cannot know unless you have your last month’s bill in hand.   I believe this is a stalling technique to make you get off the line and call back later, starting the whole process again.  It does not give you any alternative to answering the impossible questions "What is the three digit number on your phone bill?"  (since everyone knows they have to have their bill in hand to make this customer service call).  

Instead of hanging-up to go search through my bill drawer, I recalled the advice of a friend who, whenever she is confronted by an automated voice system, says “Agent!”  When I did this, the system responded with a clatter of beeps and boops>  Then I got the “We are experiencing a heavy volume of calls, all of our agents are busy with other customers, your call will be answered yadda yadda yadda. " 

Finally, after a 20 minute wait on hold (subjected to the worst quality of recorded noise/music ever heard by humans**) I got to talk to a live person.  She assured me that the problem was not with the Verizon Network (so why are you having a heavy volume of calls at 8am???) 

After making me check that everything is plugged-in, she finally agreed to send a technician sometime between now and Easter***.  I really didn’t have any choice but to hang-out here all day waiting. We've already been quiet here since about 8 PM last night.  

BTW, I missed the much anticipated season premiere of “Fargo” on F/X; since the DVR  didn’t work either!

My theory is that there are only two employees at Verizon; one answers the phones and the other does service calls.  This is the only explanation I can think of for the inordinate wait times.

=====   

The Tech arrived at 3pm.  He seemed to know what he was doing.  He determined that a power surge had fried the humma humma board.  He replaced the board, used my bathroom and then left for the next gig.

Voila, we were back on-line.  

In retrospect, we agreed that it was actually not so painful to be un-connected for a few hours.  We did not miss any news: There is still a missing airplane somewhere in the Ocean, there was a bombing last year at the Boston Marathon, they still have not found a cure for psoriasis.  I got a lot of paperwork filed away, backed-up my PC, did laundry, started writing my memoir (working title: “What I learned about Semicolons.”)

Last night, they repeated “Fargo” on F/X, so today, I do not have much to complain about. 

Have a nice day. 

Footnotes

* This was actually written yesterday, but could not be posted until I got my Internet connection back.

**Music sounds choppy when mobile signal strength is low.

*** OK, actually she said “sometime between now and 9pm.”

Emperical Thoughts

If I was the Emperor,  I would institute just and merciless punishment to anyone who carelessly or willfully impairs the free flow of traffic.  

There are several offenses that would draw long jail terms –  purposefully or accidentally causing traffic jams at peak hours, organizing or participating in any “Walk for [fill in the blanks with your favorite  cause], protesting for any cause in a way that disrupts traffic.  People who run out of gas or breakdown during rush hour would be ticketed and fined; repeat offenders would lose their licenses.

These royal edicts may seem Draconian to some folks but they enforce a basic tenet of civilization: roads are designed to improve the speed of travel from point A to point B.

I think "Thou shalt not willfully impede traffic" should have been one of the commandments,  or at least mentioned somewhere in the Constitution.

The Irony of St. Patrick’s Day

Yes, I plan to publish this poem every St Patricks Day... until I write a better one.

The Irony of St. Patrick’s Day

Fake Irishmen wearing silly green ties
Calling with bad brogues
For a wee dram of green beer
In bars festooned with shamrocks
Pipes and cartoon leprechauns they
Sing-a-long to a verse of Danny Boy
Like tone deaf drunken goats,
They set the dogs to barking
With their droning tura-lura-lura

Amateurs: they end-up
Puking on their Italian loafers
Waking-up late for work
The next day in a hangover fog

Grandsons of the famines
Endure this minstrel show
With a mirthless grin
We stay to ourselves
Washing shots of Bushmills
Down with a beer
Glad not to be thinking
About the days
When Irish need not apply.