tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2656816799056095472024-03-14T03:11:06.795-04:00Gifts of ThoughtPolitics, Pop Culture, Ponderings and 'pinions...plus pervyOpinionated Giftshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03803183270924780590noreply@blogger.comBlogger191125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-265681679905609547.post-27592568816072839382012-04-05T10:08:00.006-04:002012-04-05T16:12:37.318-04:00Keith Still Matters; Not necessarily cohesive thoughts on a treasured voice<a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/--CIXi__yldM/T32odCjwS4I/AAAAAAAAAIQ/7Gbaz2x-Y5A/s1600/keith-olbermann-1207_068_bw-scrs1.jpg" style="font-family: Georgia, serif; font-size: 100%; font-weight: normal;"><img alt="" border="0" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5727919517941648258" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/--CIXi__yldM/T32odCjwS4I/AAAAAAAAAIQ/7Gbaz2x-Y5A/s200/keith-olbermann-1207_068_bw-scrs1.jpg" style="cursor: hand; cursor: pointer; display: block; height: 134px; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; width: 200px;" /></a><br />
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Taken from the internets. I hope he doesn't mind.</div>
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<span style="font-size: 100%; font-weight: normal;">MSNBC was a struggling news network desperately trying to establish an identity <span style="font-size: 100%;">in a world dominated by CNN and this other upstart, FOX News, which had known </span><span style="font-size: 100%;">its right wing, lying agenda from the outset. Struggling with ratings, MSNBC tried all </span><span style="font-size: 100%;">kinds of stuff and even gave the liberal Phil Donahue his own show. Then they fired </span><span style="font-size: 100%;">him. Phil just wasn’t getting the ratings. Too mild, too nice…something or other; he </span><span style="font-size: 100%;">just wasn’t landing. Hell, I was a Donahue fan and I found the show informative yet </span><span style="font-size: 100%;">boring.</span></span></div>
<span style="font-size: 100%; font-weight: normal;"><span style="font-size: 100%;">An opportunity for a much needed liberal minded news show was shot. Ratings after all, are 95% of what matters in TV. Well, the revenues said ratings bring actually, but...yeah. </span></span><br />
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<span style="font-size: 100%;">Replacing Donahue was Countdown: Iraq, a news show dedicating itself to the hype of the Iraq War. MSNBC brought back Keith Olbermann to replace Lester Holt as host of the show as it covered the war who then evolved the show into something more in step with his own personality.</span></div>
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Keith first came onto my radar years ago when he was a spokesman for the Subway sandwich chain. They had an ad that mocked the Calvin Klein ads of the time. In black and white, rail thin models quietly intone about hunger, deep and abiding…then in color, Keith pops up from behind a rock and says “Here’s a clue…EAT SOMETHING”.</div>
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I was an instant fan. I’ve never been a big sports fan, though at one time I had a passion for baseball. (The shenanigans of the MLB have turned me off) so I didn’t know who this guy was. And even though I knew the commercial was scripted, it was clear that this sardonic, sarcastic tone was genuine and I felt like I discovered a brother from another mother. I don’t remember what year that was, or how long before Countdown, but it kept Olbermann on my radar.</div>
<span style="font-size: 100%;">Some time later I got wind of Countdown and this guy who had cracked me up every time I saw that ad and decided to watch. It was the middle of the show the first time that I watched it and Keith was discussing the sickening orange shower curtains that had been forced upon New Yorkers and Central Park goers known as <a href="http://www.nyc.gov/html/thegates/home.html">The Gates</a>. As someone feeling very much in the minority (at the time only my daughter shared my intense dislike of the “art project”) I had once again felt that I had found a brother from another mother. He was making the same points about those god awful things that I had been. Ugly, obtrusive, inescapable...and did I mention UGLY? Dude was speaking my language.</span><br />
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<span style="font-size: 100%;">Then came other bits and pieces. Things that made liberal points that were factual, yet fun. Something that liberals are not often accused of being. Worst Persons, Oddball, etc. </span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 100%;">And then came the </span><a href="http://www.msnbc.msn.com/id/15000494/#.T32nxKsS2jN" style="font-size: 100%;">Special Comment that changed everything</a><span style="font-size: 100%;">. More and more folks took notice and the already growing show really took off. Finally, SOMEone was articulating with passion, knowledge and facts what those of us who knew wtf was really going on had been trying to get out there for what seemed like ages. Finally someone on television wasn’t repeating right wing or “moderate” pabulum. </span><br />
<span style="font-size: 100%;">MSNBC’s ratings began to rise. Little wonder. Olbermann’s talent was more evident than ever to those of us that hadn’t watched him on ESPN and Fox Sports. </span><br />
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<span style="font-size: 100%;">Keith was proving that a voice from the Left could in fact attract income for networks. </span><br />
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<span style="font-size: 100%;">Without Keith, there is no Rachel Maddow on TV, indeed after the demise of Air America, Rachel would be history and there are few voices as well researched as hers.</span><br />
<span style="font-size: 100%;">Without Keith, there is no The Last Word with Lawrence O’Donnell, another great show.</span><br />
<span style="font-size: 100%;">Without Keith, there is no Ed Show (I’m not a fan, but occasionally he contributes something useful. Maybe I’ll elaborate sometime, but at this point the more voices the better).</span><br />
<span style="font-size: 100%;">Without Keith, there is no Up with Chris Hayes, the smartest fucking news show there is. Yes I know this came about after MSNBC fired Keith, but the tone had been set. The ratings had been proven, and none of that happens without Olbermann.</span></div>
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No Melissa Harris Lacewell, no Al Sharpton either. A mere 6 years has brought us actual diversity of thought and coverage in cable news. All of this, as far as I'm concerned, is courtesy of Keith Olbermann's efforts and energy.</div>
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<span style="font-size: 100%; font-weight: normal;">I’ve never formally met the man. I once rode the R train sitting opposite him and then on departing at the same stop, nodded a silent “hey, I’m a fan and thank you” to which he nodded back what I think was a thank you back. I tweeted him once that he had been off air a bit too much for a fan's taste and he reacted with a bit of defensiveness. It’s easy to misinterpret tweets. I didn’t mind. I knew that he had lost his father not long after losing his mother and needed some actual vacation time. I was simply pointing out that he was missed. Well, not really simply.</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 100%;">The point is, I don’t care about his personality. I care about his voice. When he was fired from MSNBC and moved to Current I was frustrated, because he was back on TV, but as a Cablevision </span><strike>hostage</strike><span style="font-size: 100%;"> customer I wasn’t going to get to see it and the iTunes clips were incomplete. Still, it was refreshing to hear him whenever possible.</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 100%; font-weight: normal;">I’ve had my disagreements and frustrations with him. For instance as someone that had been long unemployed at the time, I didn’t appreciate his take on Obama “caving” on Bush tax cuts and ignoring the dilemma of so many of us who were in fact hostages of the Republicans. He and Maddow and most egregiously, Ed Schultz were wrong to cover it from that standpoint. Though over time Keith and Rachel did acknowledge the issue and moderated their tone and turned their ire on the actual perpetrators of the crime.</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 100%; font-weight: normal;">Keith himself has even apologized for being over the top at times. Apologies, in general, are no the act of someone who can't stand genuine criticism.</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 100%; font-weight: normal;">And Keith always covered things that no one else was even mentioning, and most recently he was the first to cover the Occupy movement. The first to actually go down there and talk to people. The first to have Occupiers on his show and admit his own hesitancies about the movement even as they evolved.</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 100%; font-weight: normal;">From another network you could see that he was still influencing what was getting covered on MSNBC as they followed his lead.</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 100%; font-weight: normal;">As to Current, well the network itself can’t seem to pull it together. Once they hired Cenk Uyger who is intellectually lazy to put it kindly, I was sensing something not really functioning over there. Keith was it’s consistent (if not present) voice of raging sanity.</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 100%; font-weight: normal;">Even now, after being fired by Current, the only thing that anyone can try on Olbermann is his alleged difficult personality. They can’t get him on facts, they can’t get him on intellectual integrity. They can only make it personal.</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 100%; font-weight: normal;">Current’s behavior has been despicable and dishonest. Keith’s been able to refute each of their rather petty points. Especially this limousine nonsense which they still haven't backed up. When you have to leak information to the New York Post, a rag barely capable of telling the remotest of truths and which has lost billions under Rupert Murdoch, you’ve already lost the argument.</span><br />
<span style="font-size: 100%; font-weight: normal;">No voice is perfect. I myself am a raging asshole. I’m even called a political jackass by someone who lurves me and agrees with me 99% of the time. What matters is are you on the money most of the time. That you take stock and responsibility for what you say.</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 100%; font-weight: normal;">I have disagreed with his decisions to stop doing "Worst Persons" but I respect and admire his willingness to see what may be his own role in certain unpleasant events. Hannity never does that, Rush certainly never does it. Who has the thin skin?</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 100%; font-weight: normal;">And if you don’t get that Keith’s chandalier reference on Letterman the other day was characterizing Current’s attitude about Keith when he was hired, you haven’t been paying attention.</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 100%;">Keith still matters. I am not counting him down, or out.</span></div>
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<span style="font-weight: normal;">*Thanks to @majorbedhead for pointing out some egregious errors in this post.</span></div>
</div>Opinionated Giftshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03803183270924780590noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-265681679905609547.post-76727370280614666712011-09-14T13:00:00.001-04:002011-09-14T13:00:57.156-04:00RecommendationsA friend of mine was in despair this morning from watching Morning Joe. Everything going on was getting to him. Here's what I said.<br />
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Recommendation 1: Stop watching Morning Joke. Mika is a vapid fool and I'm convinced that Zbigniew bangs his head against the wall every single morning wondering how he ended up with such an idiot for a daughter. <br />
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Scarborough himself has yet to explain the dead intern in his office.<br />
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Willy Geist is a phony masking his utter lack of intellectual ability behind sardonic-isms.<br />
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Recommendation 2: Yeah, we lost NY9. This sucks.<br />
However, remember that while we lost 9, we won 26 and 29 last year, two upstate districts that had been Republican since the Civil War. Bigger wins. 9 was a thin margin, 26 and 29 were a good deal wider.<br />
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The Rs played the Israel card very well. Better than the Ds played the Medicare/Social Security card. They took it for granted and not without cause. Let that be a lesson.<br />
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Recommendation 3: Stop watching the Republican debates. You won't get anything out of it. None of those candidates are going to say anything particularly insightful. <br />
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The race is going to be Romney v Obama. It may or may not be a close race. <br />
The race is going to be Perry v Obama. It will be a landslide victory for Obama and quite possibly hand the House back to Nancy Pelosi.<br />
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Unless either of those two things suddenly changes (always possible) there's just no reason to watch. Think of the reasoning as the same reasoning you use to not watch Jerry Springer. Why bring yourself down watching the worst of humanity?<div class="separator"style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://lh6.googleusercontent.com/-rY6r59HPRJM/TnDdvrgjy8I/AAAAAAAAAGU/7qi5boXNwk4/s640/blogger-image--937972493.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://lh6.googleusercontent.com/-rY6r59HPRJM/TnDdvrgjy8I/AAAAAAAAAGU/7qi5boXNwk4/s640/blogger-image--937972493.jpg" /></a></div>Opinionated Giftshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03803183270924780590noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-265681679905609547.post-67753512423783113032011-09-11T09:04:00.004-04:002011-09-11T10:04:02.563-04:00Life is weird: A MemoryMy grandmother died on September 7th, 2001. She had been living in a suburb of Pittsburgh ever since her third husband, a retired steel worker, had died decades earlier. <br />
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Being next of kin it fell on my brother and me to get down there and take care of things. My mother, who happened to be in NY that weekend drove the very large family van with us in it. The funny thing is that this was my father's mother who had died. But my mother, never one to pass up a road trip with her sons. Besides, she had a big van and we were going to need it. It's a long drive from New York City to McKeesport, PA. <br />
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To say that my grandmother was not well would be an understatement. Always somewhat emotionally immature as well as an alcoholic, she had left behind a small apartment piled wall to wall and knee high in Publishers Clearing House sweepstakes mailings and chintzy "consolation prizes". So when we arrived at her place on the morning of September 9th. We had a lot of work ahead of us. <br />
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It took us two days to get all the garbage out. On the morning of the 11th, we turned on the news as we got ready to leave the hotel and head to the apartment. There was a small campus fire at UP Pittsburgh. A dorm kitchen apparently. We watched the coverage of that, grabbed our free hotel coffee and headed over. One there, we packed up all the "consolation prizes" to take to the Goodwill in the next town. Deciding we needed to stop by the hotel on the way to the Goodwill to use the bathroom, we headed into the lobby, van loaded with stuff. <br />
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In the lobby, guests and staff were all gathered, watching the television. All I saw on screen was smoke. I thought to myself "Wow, that campus fire is out of control". I turned to a guy standing next to me and asked him what was going on. He told me that planes had just crashed into the World Trade Center and the Pentagon. I stared at him in disbelief, my face probably for an instant communicating "fuck you, what's really going on?" But I saw he meant it. <br />
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We had to keep moving though. There was just too much that had to be done at grandma's to pause. So, after our bathroom break, we got back into the van to head to the Goodwill. The "Kill All Towelheads" signs were already up on pick up trucks that we drove, listening to the Today Show on the radio. As we commented to eachother on how we were already blowing it, the first tower fell. How my mother managed to stay on the road at that point, I'll never know.<br />
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It's a very odd experience listening to someone narrate a terrible event as it is happening. Matt Lauer's voice will forever have that echo for me. In a way, I'm grateful that I wasn't among the millions watching. Weird as it was, I think it was easier to process emotionally for me than seeing it would have been.<br />
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We unpacked at the Goodwill which was for all intents and purposes abandoned, and went back to town. We had to stop at the town funeral home to arrange grandma's cremation. On the way, we listened to the second tower falling.<br />
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When my brother and I returned to the van from the funeral home, our mother who had stayed in it to listen to the radio told us that another plane had just crashed in Shanksville, about 70 miles from us. <br />
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It seemed like the end of the world in that moment. The Twin Towers were one thing, the Pentagon part of the same thing...but a field in rural Pennsylvania? "What the fuck?" just doesn't even cover it.<br />
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We took a few moments to pull our heads back together and get back to grandma's apartment. We were finally going to be able to deal with her actual possessions. And start to figure out what to do with everything. <br />
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Much of it, oddly, was still in boxes though she'd lived in that apartment for 20 years. (I guess she needed the room for all the used PCH mailings). Taking the box nearest where I sat, I opened it carefully. It felt like it would be mostly paperwork and that seemed like the best place to start anyway. <br />
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When I opened the box right there at the top, was a plastic framed 3D photograph taken of the World Trade Center to commemorate the opening of the Twin Towers. My grandmother had kept it from her visit that summer of 1970. <br />
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I gasped. All the time it took to get through the detritus she had left behind...the events of the day and the first actual possession of my grandmother's I uncover was this.<br />
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Life is weird.Opinionated Giftshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03803183270924780590noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-265681679905609547.post-51641184136116154182011-05-19T11:55:00.006-04:002011-05-19T12:21:07.301-04:00Gaining Momentum Part I<a href="http://wallpapersfor.net/phoenix-bird-wallpapers.html"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-1toyTsgVxeA/TdVCOA_oB0I/AAAAAAAAAGI/4aqDLOnd0o4/s1600/phoenix-bird-1280x800.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 200px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-1toyTsgVxeA/TdVCOA_oB0I/AAAAAAAAAGI/4aqDLOnd0o4/s320/phoenix-bird-1280x800.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5608461719512287042" /></a></a><br /><br />It has to be said that I am often slow. Not in general, but certainly on a social level I’m like <a href="http://www.amazon.com/Other-Days-Eyes-Bob-Shaw/dp/0575014857">slow glass</a>. It takes awhile for the light to pass through and reveal itself to me. Especially when it comes to relationships and sex.<br /><br />I’ve written about this here before. I have a running joke that I could be in a dark corner/room/anyplace with a woman and she would be tearing my clothes off, covering me with passionate kisses and begging me to take her to bed/the wall/someplace/anyplace and in my head I’m thinking “I wonder if she likes me”. <br /><br />Yeah, okay, that’s an exaggeration. I’m not quite that slow…but sometimes I’m close. Also that scenario rarely actually happens, when it does…I’m generally way more on the ball….so to speak.<br /><br />But last April, when I attended <a href="http://momentumcon.com/">MomentumCon</a> (thanks very very hugely to my friend <a href="http://twitter.com/#!/dangerouslilly">@dangerouslilly</a>), I began to learn and realize just.how.slow. I actually am and have been.<br /><br />Let me explain, if you’ll be kind enough to indulge me and read on.<br /><br />My whole early life, I’ve been giving myself hints about what my desires were and are. What I like, what I don’t like what I want. My subconscious would give me ways of thinking looking and thinking of things. But I wasn’t getting it. I think the reason for this is because I grew up in a fairly repressed household…you know, the classic “stop touching yourself” kind of thing when you’re a kid…subtle if unintentional parental messages of shame. You know the drill…It was the 60s and 70s and my parents were young and children of the 40s and 50s.<br /><br />So I never asked myself certain questions and I managed as I grew older to squelch my darker ideas about sex and thus left them unexplored.<br /><br />In my early teens I read books by gay men, knowing that I wasn’t attracted to men. I was fascinated by the sense of being “other”. I was mystified by this. Why was I so interested in the thinking of struggling gay men when I was clearly attracted to girls. I didn’t realize this then…but I was drawn to reading about people who struggled with self and societal acceptance. I think I was trying to tell myself that I had desires and attractions that I wasn’t accepting. It certainly was what I was doing. And since there were no ready books for me out there yet (<a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/The_Sleeping_Beauty_Trilogy">Anne Rice’s Sleeping Beauty</a> was completely out of my radar until I was in my 40s) <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Merle_Miller">Merle Miller </a>was what I had to go on. <br /><br />In college I became frustrated with the plethora of books on women sexuality and the absolute lack of books on male sexuality. Other than a book by <a href="http://www.nytimes.com/2002/06/21/us/bernie-zilbergeld-62-dies-expert-on-male-sexuality.html">Bernie Zilbergeld</a>, I could find nothing. This is the very early 80s. No internet. And oddly, though I was in a very liberal college with lots of artists, I wasn’t encountering the kind of “dark play” that still crept in the back of my mind. In high school I would role play with my girlfriend, but she would only go so far and since I viewed myself as being unusual I simply let it go as far as she was comfortable and resigned myself to not going further.<br /><br />I simply had no awareness of any other option and I think, being partially on the spectrum, or at least the way that I was on the spectrum, things just didn’t occur to me. So…suppression continued…it went on through my brief marriage and even further.<br /><br />A couple of years after my separation from my wife, I discovered online role play…you know…the old Yahoo chat rooms. I just went early on to meet people but eventually learned there were people creating their own “worlds” and stories. <br /><br />I was in my 30s and this is where things, still slowly, began to come alive...<br /><br /><br /><br /><span style="font-weight:bold;">To be continued<span style="font-style:italic;"></span></span>Opinionated Giftshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03803183270924780590noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-265681679905609547.post-56644533792726243382011-01-23T10:52:00.004-05:002011-01-23T11:07:30.048-05:00Cold KraftYesterday we took my daughter up for the second semester of her Junior year in college. We go up as a family, my daughter, ex-wife B, her boyfriend/fiancee, F and me. F has a car that's a small station wagon and he's happy to make the drive. <div><br /></div><div>F is a drummer and has been a musician for awhile and knows his stuff, but generally when it comes to certain kinds of music I tend to turn to my daughter as the young one more attuned to current or recent music.</div><div><br /></div><div>So yesterday as we are heading north I get a tune stuck in my head. 8 notes that repeat several times...I'm sure it's a Coldplay tune, but the rest of it is gone...I hum the notes to my daughter who also finds it familiar but isn't sure it's Coldplay. F finds it familiar too anWd after a few minutes is sure it's a Kraftwerk song. </div><div><br /></div><div>I tell F that I'm sure that's not it, because I heard it on a radio, and Kraftwerk, brilliant as they are, hasn't had anything play on a radio in a store in decades.</div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div>After awhile F blurts out "Computer Love" and I look it up on my iPhone and sure enough, there are those 8 notes...but it's not the song.</div><div><br /></div><div>Eventually my brain kicks in...the song I'm thinking of is "Talk" and once we listen to both as iTunes samples I learn that Talk is indeed inspired by Computer Love.</div><div><br /></div><div>Computer Love is a song that accurately depicts the loneliness that comes with being sort of obsessed with communicating through computer. Talk is a song about uncertainty in communication among other things.</div><div><br /></div><div>Turns out there's a <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Computer_Love_(Kraftwerk_song)">wiki page</a> on this. Who knew? Well, apparently Wikipedia and I'm betting scores and scores of people. Sometimes my ignorance cracks me up.</div><div><br /></div><div>We all learned something yesterday...and I got a tune unstuck in my head. FTW.</div><div><br /></div><div>Here for your enjoyment, are both songs.</div><div><br /></div><div>Computer Love by Kraftwerk. 1981.</div><div><iframe title="YouTube video player" class="youtube-player" type="text/html" width="480" height="390" src="http://www.youtube.com/embed/caXWqvyJtz0" frameborder="0"></iframe></div><div><br /></div><div>Talk, by Coldplay. 2005. This is the official video and I love the retro science fiction theme.</div><div><iframe title="YouTube video player" class="youtube-player" type="text/html" width="640" height="390" src="http://www.youtube.com/embed/W0uqLM1uj_k" frameborder="0"></iframe></div><br /><br />Please enjoy.Opinionated Giftshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03803183270924780590noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-265681679905609547.post-55190437487248935522010-12-15T23:37:00.006-05:002010-12-16T00:52:52.854-05:00And if you ever turn around....You'll see meThe other day I watched the movie <a href="http://www.imdb.com/title/tt1185836/">Adam</a> on HBO. It's a beautifully told story of a young man with Aspergers Syndrome and a budding romance he has as he begins to strike out onto the world on his own. <a href="http://www.imdb.com/name/nm0199215/">Hugh Dancy</a>'s performance as Adam is spot on. <div><br /></div><div>Without tieing things up in a neat little Hollywood bow, Adam shows what happens when there is understanding, compassion and an open heart toward people who see and experience the world differently. It also faces the reality of such things with bittersweet honesty, especially in that way that depending too much on someone holds you back, yet that dependence can be the launching point for something greater for you both. </div><div><br /></div><div>The movie has stuck with me for the last several days. Haunted me really. If you've read any of my previous blogs on Aspergers you'll immediately assume that I think much about my daughter when thinking about this movie, and you would be right. But there is much in the character of Adam that reminds me of myself in a lot of ways. I think I'll save that for another blog though.</div><div><br /></div><div>I've been thinking much of my daughter who is now 20 and not long away from striking out on her own. The song that comes at the end of the film is one of very beautiful and simple words of encouragement and the kind of words I wish I had gotten in my youth. The kind of words I want to tell my daughter now and holds in her head and heart in the moments before, during and after she walks on stage in a year and a half to take that diploma after 4 years of struggle, growth, frustration and triumph. </div><div><br /></div><div>This is for my beautiful 20 year old daughter who is becoming an articulate and wise young woman even as she hangs on to many of the trappings of childhood, as many of us do at that age before learning to let go and walk on.</div><div><br /></div><div><object width="480" height="385"><param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/6JscAwVu2QI?fs=1&hl=en_US&color1=0x006699&color2=0x54abd6"><param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"><param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"><embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/6JscAwVu2QI?fs=1&hl=en_US&color1=0x006699&color2=0x54abd6" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" width="480" height="385"></embed></object></div><div><br /></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 13px; ">Can't Go Back Now</span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 13px; ">Written and Performed by <a href="http://www.theweepies.com/index-home.php">the weepies</a></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 13px; "><br /></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 13px; "> Yesterday, when you were young,<br />Everything you needed done was done for you.<br />Now you do it on your own<br />But you find you're all alone,<br />What can you do?<br /><br />You and me walk on<br />Cause you can't go back now.<br /><br />You know there will be days when you're so tired that you can't take another step,<br />The night will have no stars and you'll think you've gone as far as you will ever get<br /><br />But you and me walk on<br />Cause you can't go back now<br />And yeah, yeah, go where you want to go<br />Be what you want to be,<br />If you ever turn around, you'll see me.<br /><br />I can't really say why everybody wishes they were somewhere else<br />But in the end, the only steps that matter are the ones you take all by yourself<br /><br />And you and me walk on<br />Yeah you and me walk on<br />Cause you can't go back now<br />Walk on, walk on, walk on<br />You can't go back now<br /></span></div>Opinionated Giftshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03803183270924780590noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-265681679905609547.post-74186535242092322672010-11-05T15:38:00.003-04:002010-11-05T15:43:19.416-04:00My letter to Phil Griffin regarding Keith Olbermann<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: arial; font-size: small; ">Dear Mr. Griffin, (<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; border-collapse: collapse; -webkit-border-horizontal-spacing: 2px; -webkit-border-vertical-spacing: 2px; ">phil.griffin@nbcuni.com)</span><div><br /></div><div>It strikes me as quite an over reaction to suspend Keith Olbermann for his small contributions to two political candidates.</div><div><br /></div><div>I understand that there are provisions in his contract and that he failed to inform your company before hand as he is obligated to. An employer does indeed have the right to reprimand it's employees as it sees fit. However an indefinite suspension is an act better saved for someone under indictment for a serious crime or perhaps something truly damaging to the reputation of the employer. This does not fit that category. Perhaps a more reasonable reaction would have been a defined suspension or the docking of pay over a fixed period of time.</div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div>This act however punishes your audience and only creates animosity. MSNBC after all, is a network struggling between 2nd and 3rd place. Showing such disrespect over what amounts to a hill of beans will only turn off what few viewers you have.</div><div><br /></div><div>You're action demonstrates your own personal view of the situation rather than reasonable business thinking. Countdown is your highest rated show with a very loyal following. Mr. Olbermann himself has been a strong influence on your evening line up with has resulted in more weeks of MSNBC as number 2 rather than number 3 in the ratings of the 3 cable news networks.</div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div>Understand that I also believe that NPR should not have fired Juan Williams for his strange statements made on the Fox Network, nor Rick Sanchez' firing from CNN for his ridiculous statements. Much as I understand the employers reasons, there were better ways to handle that situation and created dialog over important issues. I tell you this because I want to assure you that I am not merely writing as an outraged viewer who agrees with Mr. Olbermann's positions (In fact I often disagree with him with respect). I am writing as a viewer who finds himself being treated with neglect and carelessness.</div><div><br /></div><div>I urge you to rethink your decision. In the meantime, until such time as Mr. Olbermann is returned to the evening line up, I will not be watching any programming on MSNBC at all. Nor will I stream Rachel Maddow, Lawrence O'Donnell or Ed Schultz as I often do on my home computer. I will seek my news sources elsewhere. </div><div><br /></div><div>Sincerely,</div><div>John XXXX</div><div>www.OpinionatedGifts.com</div></span>Opinionated Giftshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03803183270924780590noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-265681679905609547.post-2487906395401490222010-11-01T12:51:00.015-04:002010-11-01T13:33:39.514-04:00My Trip to the Rally to Restore Sanity, Part Two: Sanity Restored...somewhat<p class="MsoNormal">Having gotten my anger out on the bus situation yesterday I can now write about the aspects of Saturday’s trip that were rather pleasant.</p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">The first, I have to say, was the people. I mentioned John and Kyla from early in the morning, waiting in the “line”, not knowing what was up, but enjoying a beautiful sunrise.</p><p class="MsoNormal"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_Q7RnW1lYHjU/TM7wxDu8qeI/AAAAAAAAAEU/Gv25XkwaBIA/s1600/P9190039.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_Q7RnW1lYHjU/TM7wxDu8qeI/AAAAAAAAAEU/Gv25XkwaBIA/s320/P9190039.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5534625717691394530" /></a></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">I didn’t get any sleep. In order to make sure I was at Willet’s Point by 5:30 I needed to make sure I was out my door by 3:30 or so as the trek from <st1:place st="on">Brooklyn</st1:place> can be problematic. A fairly long A train ride followed by almost the entire length of the 7 line. If I had had any brain at all I’d have taken Nyquil at about 8pm and slept til 2 or 3. But sleep didn’t come, so I made breakfast at 2am and drank a few mugs of coffee, then showered, then out the door.</p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">I was reminded of how much of a party town New York can be, because I saw a lot of people going home after early Halloween parties at 4ish am while I was just starting my day.</p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">I saw this couple whom I had thought were going to the Rally and had formed a response to those teabagger signs of Obama as the joker when in fact, they were just heading home from a party. Still, great job on the costumes I must say.</p><p class="MsoNormal"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_Q7RnW1lYHjU/TM7xJPnGykI/AAAAAAAAAEc/ZfIdzCZgn54/s1600/P9190030.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_Q7RnW1lYHjU/TM7xJPnGykI/AAAAAAAAAEc/ZfIdzCZgn54/s320/P9190030.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5534626133196589634" /></a></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">Frustrating as the line and all the lack of organization was, it must be said that Citi Field is rather beautiful to look at in the dark. I hate that it, like so many stadiums, is named after a corporation rather than the team or a team icon. But I appreciate it's homage to Ebbet's Field. </p><p class="MsoNormal"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_Q7RnW1lYHjU/TM7ypKdcMFI/AAAAAAAAAEk/lCXKf8-sLTs/s1600/P9190032.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_Q7RnW1lYHjU/TM7ypKdcMFI/AAAAAAAAAEk/lCXKf8-sLTs/s320/P9190032.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5534627781081313362" /></a></p><p class="MsoNormal"><br /></p><p class="MsoNormal"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_Q7RnW1lYHjU/TM7y2eWefRI/AAAAAAAAAEs/qFdumKzmIzw/s1600/P9190033.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_Q7RnW1lYHjU/TM7y2eWefRI/AAAAAAAAAEs/qFdumKzmIzw/s320/P9190033.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5534628009759112466" /></a></p><p class="MsoNormal"><br /></p><p class="MsoNormal"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_Q7RnW1lYHjU/TM70WQt_FaI/AAAAAAAAAE0/2o_tbSUSRyc/s1600/P9190038.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 191px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_Q7RnW1lYHjU/TM70WQt_FaI/AAAAAAAAAE0/2o_tbSUSRyc/s320/P9190038.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5534629655367062946" /></a></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-small;"><b>Ummm, Arianna, stop posing and pay attention.</b></span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><br /></p><p class="MsoNormal">On the early part of the bus ride I had a nice conversation with the guy sitting next to me at the time. He and his wife were from <st1:state st="on">Hawaii</st1:state> and visiting friends in <st1:country-region st="on"><st1:place st="on">Canada</st1:place></st1:country-region>. They had come down to NYC specifically to get to the Rally. It was interesting to hear someone describe <st1:place st="on"><st1:state st="on">Hawaii</st1:state></st1:place> with a sense of appreciative boredom. It made me feel a little better about feeling stuck in <st1:place st="on"><st1:state st="on">New York</st1:state></st1:place>.</p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">After the rest stop (which we didn’t really need, but since the bus was having an a/c problem we did get to switch out to a more comfortable bus) seating got moved around, and the new person next to me was sleeping. So I enjoyed what scenery there is on I95 and also managed to nap for about 25 minutes.</p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">When we finally reached DC it was a thrill to get off the bus. Five hours of sitting like that really makes your ass sore. Especially when part of your ass is titanium and ceramic. This had a lot to do with my decision to walk rather than stand and wait and wait for the Metro. </p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">I used the GPS on my iPhone as best I could, but mostly followed others who were also walking. I was still seething from how late we were and how much that lateness wasn’t being acknowledged when I was catching up to another young couple. Close enough to hear the woman say “I just feel like my day is now wasted. I could have gotten a lot of things done today and still seen the Rally on TV. The whole thing”. I felt compelled to say “Would it make you feel any better to know you’re not alone?”</p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">The three of us instantly became friends. We continued the walk along <st1:street st="on"><st1:address st="on">Independence Avenue</st1:address></st1:street>, a very beautiful street that reminds me very<span style="mso-spacerun:yes"> </span>much of parts all over <st1:place st="on">Brooklyn</st1:place>. I didn’t get any shots of the area, but honestly it looks like a cleaner, more refurbished version of some of my earlier walk through <st1:place st="on">Brooklyn</st1:place> blogs. The couple; Jim and Sue are very sweet people and who despite being supremely pissed off had managed to enjoy what could be enjoyed. It made the frustration a bit easier to handle.</p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">We finally reached the <st1:place st="on"><st1:placename st="on">Capital</st1:placename> <st1:placetype st="on">Building</st1:placetype></st1:place> where we encountered masses of people leaving the rally, which we took to mean it was over. It wasn’t…but as it turns out, we would not have been able to get to a place to see anything until it was. </p><p class="MsoNormal">It had been about 10 years since I was last in D.C., over 20 since I'd lived there briefly while on tour. I always remember that I like that town, though I forget how much. It really is, where it is not blighted, a beautiful city and I am filled with a sense of awe, wonder and national pride when I see the grace of the Capital Building.</p><p class="MsoNormal"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_Q7RnW1lYHjU/TM71HoVKY8I/AAAAAAAAAE8/tcNmz9iJbgs/s1600/P9190041+copy.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 219px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_Q7RnW1lYHjU/TM71HoVKY8I/AAAAAAAAAE8/tcNmz9iJbgs/s320/P9190041+copy.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5534630503518987202" /></a></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">Astoundingly hungry, sore and tired. We chose to turn back and find a place to eat as we had passed several nice looking restaurants a few blocks back. </p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">A <st1:city st="on"><st1:place st="on">high point</st1:place></st1:city> was seeing Donna Brazile heading down the hill as we turned to go back. She was talking on her phone (I think faking it to avoid too much attention, understandably) but I waved to her and gave her a thumbs up. I would like to have yelled “Kick Breitbart’s ass on Tuesday” to her but on the chance that she was sincerely talking I decided not to be that rude.</p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">Timing is everything. That crowd I mentioned going the other way got to the restaurants before us and what seemed manageable on the way TO the Capital had become…well…ridiculous. The only place that had seats was a Thai place that had been converted from being some sort of little pub. </p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">I’m not a fan of Thai food. I actually find it kind of boring and even more prone to the “hungry right after you eat it” syndrome than Chinese food. BUT…I don’t hate it and when it’s the only place you can eat..what the hell.</p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">Turns out it was pretty good. Tastier than most, nothing I’d write home about or even put any energy into eating again, but it was nourishing and hot and delicious enough. What I DID love was the Thai beer that Jim and Sue talked up and ordered. Very very excellent. I recommend it highly. Chang Beer.</p><p class="MsoNormal"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_Q7RnW1lYHjU/TM71Z7kCP0I/AAAAAAAAAFE/uVa743HCwHQ/s1600/P9200046.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_Q7RnW1lYHjU/TM71Z7kCP0I/AAAAAAAAAFE/uVa743HCwHQ/s320/P9200046.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5534630817919287106" /></a></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">Jim and I talked a lot about the state of the media and how I was growing tired of pundit “analysis” shows and how we wished there were more Anderson Coopers and Richard Engels, etc. And we watched what was left of the rally on the TV as we ate and drank.</p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">Sue, as it turns out, works with the daughter of a famous cable news journalist. I won’t mention the name here but I will say it is one of the ones that would more appropriately be found on the unemployment line than on the TV. </p><p class="MsoNormal"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_Q7RnW1lYHjU/TM71n9DRG3I/AAAAAAAAAFM/o3rjb2KqivU/s1600/P9200047.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_Q7RnW1lYHjU/TM71n9DRG3I/AAAAAAAAAFM/o3rjb2KqivU/s320/P9200047.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5534631058836888434" /></a></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-small;"><b>Jim and Sue.</b></span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal">Stewart’s closing speech was spot on as far as I was concerned. I may be a fan of Keith Olbermann, but Stewart has a point. And<a href="http://www.nytimes.com/2010/11/01/business/media/01carr.html?ref=us"> David Carr can kiss my ass</a> until he fesses up that the media is indeed part of the problem, not just a “messenger”. Marshal McCluhen anyone?</p><p class="MsoNormal"><object width="425" height="344"><param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/v__zbAjJlIA?fs=1&hl=en_US&color1=0x006699&color2=0x54abd6"><param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"><param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"><embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/v__zbAjJlIA?fs=1&hl=en_US&color1=0x006699&color2=0x54abd6" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" width="425" height="344"></embed></object></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">But man…Tony Bennett singing the song that SHOULD be the National Anthem is a sublime pleasure.</p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p><object width="560" height="340"><param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/P6yRbnKq2EM?fs=1&hl=en_US&color1=0x006699&color2=0x54abd6"><param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"><param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"><embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/P6yRbnKq2EM?fs=1&hl=en_US&color1=0x006699&color2=0x54abd6" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" width="560" height="340"></embed></object> </o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">Nothing overcomes anger and frustration like good conversation and company and a good buzz from a couple of beers. Seriously, unless you are an alcoholic, alcohol is a great remedy. </p><p class="MsoNormal">But we were running out of time to catch the bus back, a ride we were dreading. This is where we met Steven, the fella I talked about in yesterday’s blog who managed to get on the bus rides without having done a single thing we were required to do. We chatted and left the bar and headed toward the bus. </p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">I mentioned how I didn’t want the buzz to fade and someone came up with the idea of getting something for the bus. To which one of us responded “We aren’t allowed to drink on the bus”.</p> <p class="MsoNormal">The only possible answer to that was buy bottles of Coke and some rum and mix it.</p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">Genius. We got some Captain Morgan Dark Spice Rum, 4 sixteen ounce bottles of coke and proceeded to make our survival kits. Buzz maintained…as well as the improved mood.</p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">We got back to RFK which is a fascinating structure from the outside though I can see how as a baseball park it’s an epic fail. </p><p class="MsoNormal"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_Q7RnW1lYHjU/TM75WKcu3cI/AAAAAAAAAFU/BFGX3oei-sw/s1600/P9200050.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_Q7RnW1lYHjU/TM75WKcu3cI/AAAAAAAAAFU/BFGX3oei-sw/s320/P9200050.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5534635151242223042" /></a></p><p class="MsoNormal">There was more of the nonsense about wrist bands that were never checked, we got on the bus easily and by coincidence Jim, Sue and I happened to have the same driver we had coming in. A very funny woman who’s nickname was Miami Vice. She was awesome. Great sense of humor and really good at keeping us informed. She also managed to get us back to Citi Field about a half hour earlier than could be expected. That, I can absolutely appreciate.</p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">Back in <st1:place st="on">Queens</st1:place>, ass sore but spirits improved. </p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">I said goodbye to Jim and Sue who were driving off to Long Island, and then goodbye to Steven who was off to his home not far in <st1:place st="on">Queens</st1:place>. Steven, if you’re reading this, email me at <a href="mailto:OpinionatedGifts@gmail.com">OpinionatedGifts@gmail.com</a>. Jim and Sue, please do the same, though I have Jim’s site. </p><p class="MsoNormal">Calculating the visuals for the blog posts and tired as hell, I got onto the 7 train, decided I couldn’t make my friend’s party in <st1:place st="on"><st1:city st="on">Hoboken</st1:city></st1:place> and be any decent company at all.</p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">Jim, by the way, is a musician and here is his band’s site: <a href="http://www.cravingstrange.com/">www.cravingstrange.com</a>.</p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">Once home I collapsed and slept a solid non stop 9 hours. I can’t remember when I did that last. Maybe staying up all night and sitting on a bus for 12 hours total is what I need to do.</p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><b><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;">Favorite sign seen but not photographed "Make Inappropriate Sexual Suggestions, Not War"</span></b></p><p class="MsoNormal"><b><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></b></p><p class="MsoNormal"><b><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: normal; font-size: 16px; "></span></span></b></p><p class="MsoNormal"><b>Coming soon, I blog about conservatives I respect. It’s a short blog, but not as short as you might think.</b></p><div><b><br /></b></div><p></p>Opinionated Giftshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03803183270924780590noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-265681679905609547.post-6604220759442579172010-10-31T22:10:00.016-04:002010-11-01T00:47:51.217-04:00My Trip to the Rally to Restore Sanity, Part One: Sanity Lost.<p class="MsoNormal">I don’t like buses. In fact I hate them. To me, riding the bus is a necessary when absolutely unavoidable evil…..like root canal.</p> <p class="MsoNormal">They are loud, bumpy, cramped and uncomfortable. In <st1:place st="on">Brooklyn</st1:place>, the city buses are the best way to go and manageable, but beyond that, I’d rather be strapped into a chair Clockwork Orange style and forced to watch Glenn Beck give a chalkboard lecture.</p><p class="MsoNormal"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_Q7RnW1lYHjU/TM4nbuw5LeI/AAAAAAAAAD8/8o_5V5O16VA/s1600/clockwork_big.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 209px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_Q7RnW1lYHjU/TM4nbuw5LeI/AAAAAAAAAD8/8o_5V5O16VA/s320/clockwork_big.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5534404349447974370" /></a></p> <p class="MsoNormal">So when Arianna Huffington announced so joyfully that she would provide free bus transportation for anyone wanting to get to the Rally To Restore Sanity, I hesitated. For a second. The word “free” generally helps me get over myself. By yesterday afternoon I was sorry I had heard about her offer at all.</p> <p class="MsoNormal">Before I start on the disaster that Huffington established, let me say a few positive things because that would only be fair. I’ll even do it without qualifiers. </p> <p class="MsoNormal">First, it was a good impulse and a great idea to begin with. After all, Freedom Works, the Koch Brothers and other Right Wing corporate funded groups go out of their way to bus in Teabaggers to their ridiculous events, so why not counter that with similar help? Good and nice idea. Plus this would provide the ability for people like me, of very little means of finance AND transportation to go, thus increasing the attendance numbers. </p> <p class="MsoNormal">Second, great thinking to have the pick up point in New York City be at City Field in Flushing Queens and the D.C. drop off be at RFK stadium in Southeast Downtown. Both locations have the facility to handle multiple buses and have public transportation close by that also has the capacity to handle large crowds. RFK is also a reasonable if a little long walk to the National Mall. </p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">Sadly, the thinking that went into this undertaking seems to have stopped abruptly at these two points. </p> <p class="MsoNormal">Here is Arianna giving the same info on Countdown after her visit on Friday.</p><p class="MsoNormal"><object width="420" height="245" id="msnbc18ce53" classid="clsid:D27CDB6E-AE6D-11cf-96B8-444553540000" codebase="http://download.macromedia.com/pub/shockwave/cabs/flash/swflash.cab#version=10,0,0,0"><param name="movie" value="http://www.msnbc.msn.com/id/32545640"><param name="FlashVars" value="launch=39919572^371480^408100&width=420&height=245"><param name="allowScriptAccess" value="always"><param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"><param name="wmode" value="transparent"><embed name="msnbc18ce53" src="http://www.msnbc.msn.com/id/32545640" width="420" height="245" flashvars="launch=39919572^371480^408100&width=420&height=245" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" wmode="transparent" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" pluginspage="http://www.adobe.com/shockwave/download/download.cgi?P1_Prod_Version=ShockwaveFlash"></embed></object></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">This was accurate, if by 6am you mean 8am. </p> <p class="MsoNormal">Don’t for a second think that I am not taking into account the very large task it is to bus 10,000 plus people. It is a big job…very big…but it’s actually not a hard one. Not once you think it through. </p> <p class="MsoNormal">Let me tell you what went wrong, then I’ll tell how simple it should have been for it to go right, barring acts of God. </p> <p class="MsoNormal">Emails from HuffPo indeed instructed us to arrive by 5:30 check in so that buses would leave at 6am.</p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">This was after having us register, then confirm, then a few days later RE-confirm. I don’t know why there needed to be a re-confirm, but there was. By the way, I had to email the<span style="mso-spacerun:yes"> </span>bus organizers because I hadn’t received a clear confirmation that my re-confirmation had gone through. This was a first, though minor indication that something on the other end wasn’t working. </p> <p class="MsoNormal">Trouble indicator; the time for a re-confirmation is within two days of the actual event, not two weeks. In that time people may have been able to make other arrangements (car rides with friends for example) or may not be able to go at all. Some friends cancelled because they balked at having to be at Citi Field at 5:30 in the morning, many of those friends found friends with cars. If you have to have a re-confirmation early on, have a re-re-confirmation just before the event. This could save you time…and money. Original estimates had bus riders at 14,000, but we ended up being 10,000. That’s a lot of buses you end up not needing at the last minute. Potential money saved…potential easing of organizing done. Now this last point is based on a 14,000 that was hearsay so I my point on planning may or may not apply though as a general rule, confirmation on the last day or two before an event is pretty much common sense. </p> <p class="MsoNormal">I arrived at Citifield at 5:12 am. There was already a considerable crowd of people, there were young men and women with bullhorns speaking not very clearly or loudly instructing us to have our IDs and confirmation printouts or phone images ready. Nothing else. Since there was no indication as to where a line started or ended I figured that the one I saw as <span style="mso-spacerun:yes"> </span>I came closer to the stadium was where I should go. I followed this line to it’s end which was just about to the Right Field entrance and then curling back. </p> <p class="MsoNormal">While waiting I made friends with a young couple, of which there were many, John and Kyla. We made conversation.<span style="mso-spacerun:yes"> </span>This was comforting to me because my plan to meet an old friend was quickly coming to be an impossibility. That’s a different time though. </p> <p class="MsoNormal">John and Kyla and I were confused by the line, it didn’t seem to have particular shape or direction and after awhile there seemed to be another line of a very different shape or make up. 5:30 came and went and neither line was moving. </p> <p class="MsoNormal">Now we were over by the Right Field entrance. It was pretty chilly and I was regretting not having brought my hat, but I knew the rest of the day would be warmer in DC and as 6 was approaching I’d be on a bus soon. </p> <p class="MsoNormal">Not so much. </p> <p class="MsoNormal">The line itself did not begin to move until about 5:45 and that was in small drips and drabs.</p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">Every now and then one of the staff would come by with these bullhorns and start talking. What they said I cannot tell you because somehow they managed to be inaudible. No matter how many times we shouted “Please speak up” nothing changed. </p> <p class="MsoNormal">For the record, speaking into a bullhorn does not require that you speak in a whisper. It requires that you check your volume, speak at at least normal volume and continue to check that you can be heard. </p> <p class="MsoNormal">None.Of.This.Happened. EVER. </p> <p class="MsoNormal">We got people who were standing close enough to hear her to spread the word that they were simply repeating the instructions about the IDs and confirmations. Nothing about where the buses were or how the line would be working or what we would be expecting. </p> <p class="MsoNormal">ZIP.</p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">The line very slowly moved. 5:45/ 5:50 / 6:00. As it moved. , many who were past the curve simply turned direction and cut the line. Part of this was people being sneaky, but it was largely because we were all very confused and had no idea what was actually happening. </p> <p class="MsoNormal">We managed to move from Right Field entrance about a third of the way to the main entrance. By the time we reached the main entrance we realized that there was another line on the other side, that probably went to the Left Field entrance. 6:10 / 6:20 / 6:30. </p> <p class="MsoNormal">We manage to get around enough that we can see a bit more of the crowd. The sun was rising. It was very pretty but we were getting very cold as the wind off the bay was now whipping against us. This is not Huffington’s fault, the weather is the weather, but since we were supposed to be on our way by 6:45 and had yet another hour before even boarding the bus, I’m going to say that it was indeed her fault that I was freezing my ass off and had chattering teeth, despite a very warm fleece. </p> <p class="MsoNormal">I spoke to my friend on the phone that I had missed meeting. She had arrived 20 minutes later than I had and yet somehow managed to be close to getting checked in and boarded once the buses arrived. This is still after the supposed leave time of 6am…but the fact that people who arrived later were getting boarded earlier indicates a very clear lack of any system whatsoever. </p> <p class="MsoNormal">We rounded the corner and saw the other side. The crowd was still quite huge. There was still no sense for us of what was going on, but there WERE people kind of directing us without being entirely clear. But there was a tent, and in that tent we would finally show our photo IDs and re confirmations. The stuff that was supposed to be ready almost 2 hours ago. </p> <p class="MsoNormal">There were three people checking IDs and printouts. Once done we moved on to have our bags security checked. Security checks are fine and absolutely understandable. But some people packed a lot of things and it would have been a good idea in an advance email to make sure that people understood that there would be a security check and that packing very lightly (as I did) was a good idea. </p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">The security guy gave us wrist bands to wear with the Huffington Post letterhead printed on them. We were told these would be VERY important as this was what would get us back on the bus on the way back. </p> <p class="MsoNormal">Now this was done…the buses had been pulling up and waiting about 10 or 15 at a time…we had to continue along another line, this one a bit more organized but only a bit. This lead all the way down to the end of the lot, where we would then board buses by walking back up the way we came and finding a bus and boarding. Huff Crew would announce that there were a few more seats in a given bus. The bus would fill and be on it’s way. </p> <p class="MsoNormal">It is now for me 7:45. Finally I get down to the right spot, we walk up, find a bus and get on. 5 minutes after being full, we are on our way, nearly 2 hours after the announced departure time that Arianna announced many many times. </p> <p class="MsoNormal">I should add that at about 7am Arianna herself was out thanking people for coming. She never made mention of things running late. I didn’t think much of that at the time. She was getting a lot of adoration and being swamped by people wanting pictures with her and all that. However angry I am at her…(and after watching her on Hardball just a moment ago I am even angrier) I can understand how that is a very heady and distracting thing. I also frankly did appreciate her saying hello. </p> <p class="MsoNormal">She left abruptly, I assume to catch her bus. </p> <p class="MsoNormal">Alright, so..here we are, leaving two hours late, which means that instead of arriving at the planned 11am we would arrive at about 1pm. Which means getting to the Rally closer to 1:30. This is frustrating but not terrible. We would get there by the time Stewart and Colbert were scheduled to come on stage and we would still catch the bulk of it, albeit from a great distance. </p> <p class="MsoNormal">Below is my diagram of what happened. This is from GoogleMaps shot of Citi Field. I’ve moved the crowd on the right is a bit off kilter because of the angle of the picture. Imagine the green oval being closer to the wall and on actual sidewalk. Forgive my crude power point. Yes I did once do this professionally but I've had a bazillion things to do today.</p><p class="MsoNormal">Click on the picture to see it full size. Then click the BACK command on your browser to return to the blog.</p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: left;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_Q7RnW1lYHjU/TM5FURKYTJI/AAAAAAAAAEE/VfJZkde_VAo/s1600/The+Mess.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 302px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_Q7RnW1lYHjU/TM5FURKYTJI/AAAAAAAAAEE/VfJZkde_VAo/s320/The+Mess.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5534437206591556754" /></a></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">But…..there’s a lot of construction on I95 between here and D.C. and by the time we were hitting it, after 9am…we were screwed.<span style="mso-spacerun:yes"> </span>We basically crawled the entire length of <st1:state st="on">Delaware</st1:state> and slowed quite a bit through <st1:state st="on">Maryland</st1:state>…then once we approached <st1:place st="on"><st1:city st="on">Baltimore</st1:city></st1:place> it was slow going for the rest of the way. </p> <p class="MsoNormal">We would have missed this traffic had we left on time because the traffic flow would have been lower. And even if we hadn’t with the same amount of delay, we would have made it by 12:30 at the latest and not missed much at all. </p> <p class="MsoNormal">Instead, we <span style="mso-spacerun:yes"> </span>arrived at RFK stadium at a little after 2:15pm. The rally itself was scheduled to stop at 3. </p> <p class="MsoNormal">Now some buses had left before us and had arrived before us, but not by much. And some folks did get to the rally way way in the back and managed to catch an hour. </p> <p class="MsoNormal">Once we got out of the RFK parking lot, about a 5 or 8 minute trek we were greeted by a guy with a bullhorn. This guy could be heard. “Arianna Huffington personally welcomes you to D.C.”</p> <p class="MsoNormal">Personally? Really? You don’t look like Arianna Huffington to me. Plus at the moment we are all really pissed the fuck off and mentioning her name is counterproductive to say the least. </p> <p class="MsoNormal">There was no acknowledgement of how bloody late we were, no mention of an apology. Instead we were given instructions on how to cross the street. Right…never done THAT before. </p> <p class="MsoNormal">Because the train station was crowded and I figured it would be awhile before even getting into the<span style="mso-spacerun:yes"> </span>Metro, let alone an actual metro train I chose to walk…it’s a long walk but not terrible. Still longer than we had been told but I’m pretty fast. </p> <p class="MsoNormal">So…by the time I got to the Mall people were leaving. As it turns out there was still some show left, but there was quite an exodus. </p> <p class="MsoNormal">I had made friends with another young couple on the walk over…we ended up having Thai food and beer and watching the last half hour on TV. </p> <p class="MsoNormal">At the bar we met a guy named Steve. Steve had been driving by at 3am in <st1:place st="on">Queens</st1:place> and saw signs for the rally and decided to come by. He hadn’t registered or re-registered…and he’d also never gotten a wrist band. He got onto the bus and got on on the way back. </p> <p class="MsoNormal">The way back makes sense to me because when we got back to the buses our wrists were never checked. Never. We were told we better make sure we had our wrist bands as we approached the buses, but no one ever actually looked. </p> <p class="MsoNormal">When we got on the bus, the crew didn’t even bother to check to see if the bus was full, we had about 4 empty seats. They didn’t bother to look and sent our driver on her way. </p> <p class="MsoNormal">I’m not mad at Steven even fact I’m thrilled that a guy who wanted to go and didn’t know about the buses got to….but he’s another clear indication that what little bit of a system there was, wasn’t even adhered to in any way. </p> <p class="MsoNormal">Our driver, by the way, was amazing. When traffic allowed she pushed the limits and on the way home got us back to Citi Field about 45 minutes early. What might have been…ah<span style="mso-spacerun:yes"> </span>what might have been.</p> <p class="MsoNormal">Steven informed me that he saw that despite the fact that the buses were already there by 5, the crew itself was not ready to deal with anything until 6.</p> <p class="MsoNormal">Now, lest you think I’m being unfair, let me show you how in fact the way to organize this that would have worked. I would tell you that I have some experience working with large events such as the Macy’s Thanksgiving parade (Downtown coordinator) and several large events such as fashion and spring festivals that take up entire parks and streets. </p> <p class="MsoNormal">But really, anyone who has put a kid on a school bus could have figured this out. </p> <p class="MsoNormal">Below is how I would have planned this. I figured this out in about 15 minutes while on the bus, stuck somewhere in <st1:place st="on"><st1:state st="on">Maryland</st1:state></st1:place> on I95. </p> <p class="MsoNormal">First. When you announce to people to arrive at 5:30, that means that you make sure you are ready for them at 4:30 at the latest. WHY? Because once people arrive and they have to be processed it’s going to feel like a shit storm on the crew and they will need an hour to relax after set up to be ready and raring to go. </p><p class="MsoNormal">As well, the 7 train arrives every 20 minutes at this station...there's even a schedule easily found on any map program and at that hour the train actually does arrive on time. Which means you can even plan ahead for the waves of people. </p><p class="MsoNormal">Google, Arianna, look it up.</p> <p class="MsoNormal">This diagram should demonstrate pretty much how it should have happened. Again, click to enlarge, then BACK to return here.</p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: left;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_Q7RnW1lYHjU/TM5FogvNIdI/AAAAAAAAAEM/NSc-ePIQcn8/s1600/Solution.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 302px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_Q7RnW1lYHjU/TM5FogvNIdI/AAAAAAAAAEM/NSc-ePIQcn8/s320/Solution.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5534437554369929682" /></a></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> Again, I thought this up in 15 minutes. Huffington and her crew had weeks. WHAT.THE.FUCK.</o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">The bus drivers clearly knew what they were doing so as they loaded even in that haphazard system, they were in and out fairly quickly. </p><p class="MsoNormal">In closing I do think it was a great impulse. And I'm appreciative of that impulse. But there seems to be a lot of back slapping for what amounts to a failure. </p><p class="MsoNormal">Don't offer something that you don't follow through properly on and then brag about getting 10,000 people there on your website and then have Chris Matthews congratulate you on it on National Television.</p><p class="MsoNormal">Acknowledge the problem. At the very least acknowledge it. Apologies would be nice too.</p><p class="MsoNormal">For me, Arianna has no credibility whatsoever. I can't take anything she says seriously because she seems so far to be living in the same bubble that Republicans and other inside the beltway jerkoffs suffer from. </p><p class="MsoNormal">I'm done with her. </p> <p class="MsoNormal">I invite suggestions, comments, complaints.</p> <p class="MsoNormal">Tomorrow I will blog about the nicer aspects of the trip. There were nice people to meet and it was a beautiful day. Plus I got to see Donna Brazile.</p>Opinionated Giftshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03803183270924780590noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-265681679905609547.post-13101330051545019372010-10-28T15:14:00.003-04:002010-10-28T15:24:39.286-04:00Realizing I have something to crawl out of<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_Q7RnW1lYHjU/TMnNpI05EyI/AAAAAAAAADk/AQUpUTI24ag/s1600/The_Wallflower_by_Nelda_Utilini.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 200px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_Q7RnW1lYHjU/TMnNpI05EyI/AAAAAAAAADk/AQUpUTI24ag/s320/The_Wallflower_by_Nelda_Utilini.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5533179723829023522" /></a><br />Strangely enough, in the nearly 8 months of my unemployment, I’ve spent a lot of time in a kind of isolation. This is not an entire surprise, I’ve always been a very social person who needs to crawl into a tiny place to be alone for awhile.<br />I spent a lot of time, online and on the streets, looking for work early on. Applying for jobs, interviewing at agencies, updating my resume on monster.com and other such places. But I still had lots of time and in that time, I’ve seen only a handful of my friends.<br />That’s not like me. It’s not normal.<br />When I was married my wife marveled at how I navigated parties and got to talk to everyone I could and make new friends. It was a skillset that she envied. To me I just like parties. I like moments of being the center of attention (Hello, actor) I like listening and engaging.<br />But over the last few years, I’ve sought more comfort in being alone. I communicate through email or the phone. I watch movies or TV shows I love, but I don’t get out much. Social situations scare me now.<br /><br />I use the financial situation, which has not been better than struggling for at least 10 years, as an excuse for not doing myriad things with my life. Not seeing people, not seeing shows or movies in theaters or trips. I sit here alone with my PC or laptop or DVD player or all three and live in my own world.<br /><br />Lately I’ve become immensely aware of all this.<br /><br />A few weeks ago I went to the launch party of the<a href="http://www.tiedupevents.com/2010/09/13/the-2011-nyc-sex-blogger-calendar-release-party-set-for-october-1-2010-at-fontana%E2%80%99s-with-special-performance-by-nina-hartley/"> NYSexBlogger’s Calendar for 2011</a>. This is a great party for those of us who support and want sexual freedom, the calendar is very cool and btw, if you support such things I would ask you to buy one for you or your friends. Check it out.<br /><br />Anyway, big party and I was looking forward to seeing @MiaOnTop for the first time since before her move to Texas and maybe a couple of buddies of mine. But in the hours before the party, I had to really nudge myself to go. In fact the kicker was that I would get to say hello to Mia, who had even asked on Twitter if I was going. That was worthwhile to me. And so I went.<br />It was a pretty good night and I’d gotten there early enough to even get some swag. Swag mostly for women, but swag nonetheless. (Seriously, since I'm not dating at the moment what am I supposed to do with 3 vibrators.)<br />I even got to meet @GrayDancer who’s kinda big in the poly/kink/podcast world and the quite sexy @sexiesadie. Nice thrills for first 40 minutes that I was there…and then…I became a meandering wallflower. I stuck around to listen to some speakers, and enjoy the raffle, but all I did was wander through the crowd, and literally stand against a wall while GrayDancer drew raffle tickets. I barely spoke to anyone. I felt isolated surrounded by like minded people. It was kind of ridiculous.<br />I left as it wound down, tried to say goodbye to @_Ten_10 who was busy with conversation and headed home. I felt relief as I sat on the F train.<br />A few weeks later I went to a weekend retreat with polyamorists in New England, not far from the city. It was a basically free event and a chance to get out of the city for a weekend for almost nothing. It was a good time. There was anxiety for me but I could occupy myself with building fires (cold weekend) which I love to do and am very good at and then on Sunday morning make my somewhat famous French toast for breakfast.<br />I made some new friends and managed to relax after awhile, but I found myself doing the meandering thing on more than one occasion. There were only a couple of people of the 18 of us that I knew and I found it hard to reach out too much. Fortunately this was a person’s house and there was TV and fire and a yard.<br />I had a great time over all and even got some pictures that will be headshots for free out of the deal. Kind of wild. And a friend there seems to be determined to life coach me. Really what I need.<br />Then last weekend was a party held by an old friend that would feature many old friends. I have avoided the whole idea of the party for weeks. The idea of the party itself filled me with dread.<br />What was I going to talk about? My lack of a life? My lack of a job? My over all sense of doom about things of late?<br />I didn’t want to get into it, so I conveniently chose not to think about it. To the point of forgetting about the party until 2 hours before its start.<br />I decided that it was important for me to go, so I spent an hour and a half talking myself into it and asking myself what the hell had happened. What is going on and why do I feel I just don’t have anything to offer as a person to my friends.<br />My friends don’t care about my joblessness or whatever. They want to hear my political rantings (even though I myself and getting a little tired of myself on that front…sort of) so what am I worried about? But bottom line I want so much to talk about my latest adventure, my latest passion, and I have none.<br />Not that there aren’t things in my life I feel good about, but some aspects of my life I need to keep to myself for now and can’t share them for myriad reasons. I can and have lived with that. I’m fine with it, there are people who deal with that sort of thing on much grander scales than I do. Just some things that I might share with friends are things they would not understand well.<br />But ultimately something hit me as I got myself dressed and dragged myself off. On November 2 of 2002 I was on my way to a party when I was hit by a car and spent the following 3 months in the hospital and the following 2 months after that homebound. I literally bear the scars of that event and am partially artificial for it. Every day I am reminded of that night 8 years ago by a pain here and there or the sound of my hip slipping slightly from its ceramic socket.<br /><br />Of course I get nervous about going out. <br />This is not a blog of “feel sorry for me” for all this crap that’s going on. It’s more about the fact that I need to write anyway and that I find myself not quite being myself and trying to get clear why.<br />I was once hungry and ambitious and creative, now it’s more like I can’t be bothered. I’m starting to think that more than my hip and shoulder were broken and those breaks probably predate the accident, but the accident itself was like a final nail after an already tough decade.<br />I’d just found so many avenues to avoid really looking at all that for so long that it took this latest bout of unemployment to look at what the hell is going on.<br />Somehow I’ve got to find inspiration again. Somehow I’ve got to remember the only reason that I feel that I have nothing to offer is because I FEEL I have nothing to offer. The facts say something else….<br />More on that for another entry.Opinionated Giftshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03803183270924780590noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-265681679905609547.post-42420640830323730372010-10-21T19:52:00.001-04:002010-10-21T19:52:38.500-04:00NPR's Juan Williams Firing Prompts Conservative Backlash<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://i.huffpost.com/gen/152395/thumbs/s-NPR-large.jpg"><img style="cursor: pointer;" src="http://i.huffpost.com/gen/152395/thumbs/s-NPR-large.jpg" alt="" border="0" /></a><br/>I have to say, as a person who is generally liberal I find this firing troubling in the same way that I found the Rick Sanchez firing troubling.<br /><br /><br /><br />Both Williams and Sanchez are journalists that I have/had very little respect for, but neither man merited being fired for what they got fired for.<br /><br /><br /><br />Fire them for being bozos and not very good journalists. Fire them for sucking (which they did). Don't fire them for saying things we find disagreeable or even reprehensible. The fact is we need to talk more out in the open about this because if you think that Williams is the only American who feels this way, you ain't lookin' very hard.<br /><br /><br /><br />Sunlight is the best disinfectant and this kind of thing just shoves prejudice and fear back in the dark...where it thrives.<br/><a href="http://www.huffingtonpost.com/2010/10/21/npr-juan-williams-firing-_n_771632.html">Read the Article at HuffingtonPost</a>Opinionated Giftshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03803183270924780590noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-265681679905609547.post-65301443713755252982010-10-21T10:10:00.001-04:002010-10-21T10:10:35.528-04:00Justices Scalia And Thomas's Attendance At Koch Event Sparks Judicial Ethics Debate<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://i.huffpost.com/gen/211097/thumbs/s-SCALIA-THOMAS-KOCH-INDUSTRIES-large.jpg"><img style="cursor: pointer;" src="http://i.huffpost.com/gen/211097/thumbs/s-SCALIA-THOMAS-KOCH-INDUSTRIES-large.jpg" alt="" border="0" /></a><br/>Dear America,<br /><br /><br /><br />This is Clarence Thomas. I just want you to consider apologizing to me for making me undeservedly famous and for allowing me to have a job for which I am so deeply unqualified that I need Antonin Scalia to hold my hand for the last 19 years.<br /><br /><br /><br />Pray on this and say you're sorry, or I'll whine about my absent father some more.<br /><br /><br /><br />Have a nice day.<br/><a href="http://www.huffingtonpost.com/2010/10/20/scalia-thomas-koch-industries_n_769843.html">Read the Article at HuffingtonPost</a>Opinionated Giftshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03803183270924780590noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-265681679905609547.post-47494107611852262242010-10-14T13:40:00.010-04:002010-10-14T15:24:37.371-04:00What Remains Of Dollhouse<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_Q7RnW1lYHjU/TLdIMQ4hX3I/AAAAAAAAADM/3i42CVgSUTA/s1600/Dollhouse_Echo_whiskey-thumb-550x366-32151.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 213px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_Q7RnW1lYHjU/TLdIMQ4hX3I/AAAAAAAAADM/3i42CVgSUTA/s320/Dollhouse_Echo_whiskey-thumb-550x366-32151.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5527966443148238706" /></a><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-small;">Eliza Dushku and Amy Acker in Season 2 of Dollhouse</span></span>.</div>I spent this morning with my brother on some personal business and had a bit of breakfast. We had a short argument about Dollhouse. He hated it from the get go, hated the premise (which I told him he had gotten completely wrong, but he's entitled to his opinion), hated the scripts. This didn't surprise me entirely. My brother and I, both science fiction and fantasy geeks, have very different sets of standards. For instance he loved Babylon 5. I myself could not stand that show. The over all storyline was interesting, and philosophically dense, but the writing and acting per episode was so atrociously bad that it rendered the show, for me, entirely unwatchable. So I laughed as he tried to break down Dollhouse as an excuse for an actress to be vapid. <div><br /></div><div>By the way, he concedes the point on writing and acting but is able to go past that for the philosophy. Maybe it's because I am an actor and sometimes writer that I just can't do that. </div><div><br /></div><div>But Dollhouse, I pointed out to him, was about the exact opposite of being vapid. At the core of the show was the societal pressure to be vapid against the strength of the human spirit (Echo) and Love (Sierra and Victor). This is not THE core of the show, but is certainly a large part of it.</div><div><br /></div><div>It's been months since the end of Dollhouse, which I've written about here before. I still miss the show though even more, I miss the show's unreached potential. The potential that FOX TV never allowed and indeed undermined. </div><div><br /></div><div>But this week, the DVD and Blu Ray set of the series' second and final season released. With that release comes an official video of the original song "Remains" which was written as the coda for Season One's unaired episode "Epitaph One".</div><div><br /></div><div>This episode was written as a contractual obligation to FOX TV and was thrown together by the show's writers and filmed simultaneously with the actual "season finale" of the series. </div><div><br /></div><div>Epitaph One was meant to give the audience a glimpse into what the show might have been since by then, Joss Whedon had not expected to be renewed for a second season. So they fulfilled the contract and had something for the DVD release as an extra for fans. And what an extra it is.</div><div><br /></div><div>Here is the final clip of the episode, featuring the song "Remains" written by the show's Mo Tauncheron and Jed Whedon who became the head writers for Dollhouse during the second season. Here we see the basic thrust of Joss Whedon's philosophy of what happens when they keep trying "to make people better" (from Serenity). <object width="560" height="340"><param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/ItDO1BEx9iM?fs=1&hl=en_US&color1=0x006699&color2=0x54abd6"></param><param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"></param><param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"></param><embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/ItDO1BEx9iM?fs=1&hl=en_US&color1=0x006699&color2=0x54abd6" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" width="560" height="340"></embed></object><br />Here is the same song, but with it's official video release. This goes back to other core themes of Dollhouse by revisiting the concepts of vapidity and how easily we can disregard our fellow human beings. It revisits the inherent loneliness of human beings and the ways we try to fulfill that loneliness even as we regard eachother with disposability.<object width="560" height="340"><param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/ZNtORr6RsJ4?fs=1&hl=en_US&color1=0x006699&color2=0x54abd6"><param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"><param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"><embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/ZNtORr6RsJ4?fs=1&hl=en_US&color1=0x006699&color2=0x54abd6" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" width="560" height="340"></embed></object></div><br /><br />My brother still hates the show and doesn't miss it. But he doesn't like Fringe either and he liked Titanic. I love him, but damn that's just crazy talk.<br /><br />These videos make the sting of missing this show and regular doses of Eliza Dushku easier to tolerate.<br /><br />Now if Amazon would hurry up and deliver my Season 2 DVDs.Opinionated Giftshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03803183270924780590noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-265681679905609547.post-36516028021349983632010-10-05T10:21:00.013-04:002010-10-05T12:45:06.827-04:00Pizza, memory and dad<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><span class="Apple-style-span">"Sex is like pizza. Even when it's bad it's still pretty good" Woody Allen</span></span><div><span class="Apple-style-span"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><br /></span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Verdana, Tahoma, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: medium; "><p style="line-height: 1.2; margin-top: 0px; margin-bottom: 19px; "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">"Ponder well on this point: the pleasant hours of our life are all connected by a more or less tangible link, with some memory of the </span><a href="http://www.foodreference.com/html/qtable.html" style="text-decoration: none; "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><span class="Apple-style-span" >table</span></span></a><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">." </span><span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">Charles Pierre Monselet</span></span></p><p style="margin-top: 0px; margin-bottom: 19px; "><span class="Apple-style-span"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: 14px; line-height: 16px;"><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_Q7RnW1lYHjU/TKtUkyVcq-I/AAAAAAAAADE/XinzkB2yKTk/s1600/Sal+and+Carmine%27s.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_Q7RnW1lYHjU/TKtUkyVcq-I/AAAAAAAAADE/XinzkB2yKTk/s320/Sal+and+Carmine%27s.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5524602358863801314" /></a><br /></span></span></p><p style="line-height: 1.2; margin-top: 0px; margin-bottom: 19px; "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="line-height: normal; "><span class="Apple-style-span">Ask any New Yorker what the best pizza in town is and you will usually get the same answer, whatever pizza it was that said New Yorker grew up with. I am no exception, though I think an excellent case can be made for me being more right than most.</span></span></p></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"><span class="Apple-style-span"> </span></span><p class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"><span class="Apple-style-span">That pizza is </span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"><span class="Apple-style-span"> </span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"><span class="Apple-style-span">Sal and Carmine’s on Broadway between 102</span></span><sup><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"><span class="Apple-style-span">nd</span></span></sup><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"><span class="Apple-style-span"> and </span></span><st1:street st="on"><st1:address st="on"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"><span class="Apple-style-span">103</span></span><sup><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"><span class="Apple-style-span">rd</span></span></sup><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"><span class="Apple-style-span"> street</span></span></st1:address></st1:street><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"><span class="Apple-style-span">. Known as simply Sal’s Pizza when I was a kid, the place has been an </span></span><st1:place st="on"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"><span class="Apple-style-span">Upper West Side</span></span></st1:place><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"><span class="Apple-style-span"> fixture since the 60s when Sal first opened up his shop. He was later joined by Carmine, his brother in law (I believe). Sal passed away last year unbeknownst to me until a few months ago, but Carmine and Sal’s son are still there, still putting out this most excellent example of classic </span></span><st1:state st="on"><st1:place st="on"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"><span class="Apple-style-span">New York</span></span></st1:place></st1:state><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"><span class="Apple-style-span"> pizza. Here is a link to the best write up I have found on about this slice. I agree with every point made. You have to scroll down to the part about Sal and Carmine’s but it’s a great read all around. </span></span><a href="http://theeatenpath.com/2009/06/07/sal-and-carmine-best-slice-in-manhattan/"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"><span class="Apple-style-span">http://theeatenpath.com/2009/06/07/sal-and-carmine-best-slice-in-manhattan/</span></span></a><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"><span class="Apple-style-span"> </span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"><span class="Apple-style-span"> </span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"><span class="Apple-style-span">You’ll get no less than 12 pages of links to different reviews, blog entries and diaries just by googleing “Sal and Carmine’s”</span></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"><span class="Apple-style-span">I started eating Sal and Carmine’s when I was 11, not long after my parents split up and my dad moved to a tiny studio apartment on </span></span><st1:street st="on"><st1:address st="on"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"><span class="Apple-style-span">Amsterdam Avenue</span></span></st1:address></st1:street><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"><span class="Apple-style-span"> and</span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"><span class="Apple-style-span"> </span></span><st1:street st="on"><st1:address st="on"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"><span class="Apple-style-span">95</span></span><sup><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"><span class="Apple-style-span">th</span></span></sup><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"><span class="Apple-style-span"> Street</span></span></st1:address></st1:street><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"><span class="Apple-style-span">. Back then Sal’s, was a hole in the wall with no tables and white tile everywhere. The counter had barely enough room for the two men to work. But work they did. Making pizza after pizza, serving slice after slice after slice. It was rarely empty, rarely navigable and always delicious.</span></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"><span class="Apple-style-span">Their pizza was, and still is, so good that a plain slice/pie is more than good enough. Adding sausage, pepperoni, mushrooms or whatever actually ends up distracting you.</span></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"><span class="Apple-style-span">This isn’t gourmet pizza, you understand. This is classic </span></span><st1:place st="on"><st1:state st="on"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"><span class="Apple-style-span">New York</span></span></st1:state></st1:place><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"><span class="Apple-style-span"> by the slice pizza at its best. And it is indeed the pizza I grew up on.</span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"><span class="Apple-style-span">Sure there's Lombardi's (where pizza was invented), Grimaldi's and John's (who both got their start at Lombardi's) and they are great, but that's sitdown eat a whole pie kind of place. Sal and Carmine are of a more common New York tradition and you are hardpressed to find something as classic and authentically Italian as they are save for parts of Brooklyn, the Bronx and Mulberry street in Manhattan.</span></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"><span class="Apple-style-span">I started eating Sal and Carmine’s when I was 11, not long after my parents split up and my dad moved to a tiny studio apartment on </span></span><st1:street st="on"><st1:address st="on"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"><span class="Apple-style-span">Amsterdam Avenue</span></span></st1:address></st1:street><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"><span class="Apple-style-span"> and</span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"><span class="Apple-style-span"> </span></span><st1:street st="on"><st1:address st="on"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"><span class="Apple-style-span">95</span></span><sup><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"><span class="Apple-style-span">th</span></span></sup><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"><span class="Apple-style-span"> Street from our place on 103rd and Central Park West</span></span></st1:address></st1:street><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"><span class="Apple-style-span">. Back then Sal’s, as it was known then, was a hole in the wall with no tables and white tile everywhere. The counter had barely enough room for the brothers in law to work. But work they did. Making pizza after pizza, serving slice after slice after slice. It was rarely empty, rarely navigable. It was always delicious.</span></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"><span class="Apple-style-span">When the neighborhood yuppified in the 80s they were forced to move up about 7 blocks. It was worth the extra time. Back then, the real estate line was sharp…at about 99</span></span><sup><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"><span class="Apple-style-span">th</span></span></sup><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"><span class="Apple-style-span"> street the neighborhood remained a mix of middle class and sketchy, rental was still a bit cheaper than the rest of the area so the new space, now called Sal and Carmine’s had 7 tables in the back. The ovens and the flavor never changed.</span></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"><span class="Apple-style-span">Sal and Carmine never bought into the ridiculousness of putting every damned thing on their pizza the way so many of the newer, generally awful pizza places do. They stuck and continue to stick to the basics. Woody Allen's joke no longer applies in New York. The bad pizza here is pretty fucking bad. In my part of Brooklyn (Crown Heights/BedStuy) the local pizza makes you lose the will to live, it's that horrible.</span></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"><span class="Apple-style-span">When I moved out of my dad’s place 27 years ago part of my life became about finding places nearby that were approachable to Sal and Carmine’s. Not just because of the goodness but because of the memories.</span></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"><span class="Apple-style-span">When my parents split up I was of course pretty devastated. Dad was over ever Wednesday and we went to his place every other weekend. The distance between mom's place and dad's wasn't that far so we were lucky in that we still got to see him. </span></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"><span class="Apple-style-span">Dad had discovered Sal’s right after the move and Saturday pizza with Star Trek reruns on Channel 11 became the tradition when we visited. It was a tiny studio apartment and my brother and I slept on inflatable mattresses on the floor, but we had fun. There was always something to do and of course, Sal’s Pizza and Star Trek every Saturday. </span></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"><span class="Apple-style-span">Years later I moved in with dad so I could go to the high school I wanted to go to, my brother stayed with my mother who had moved out to </span></span><st1:place st="on"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"><span class="Apple-style-span">Long Island</span></span></st1:place><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"><span class="Apple-style-span"> and we switched off weekends. The Saturday tradition never changed, though there would be additions of Space 1999 (we would talk about how awful it was), UFO, Battlestar Galactica (to this day I wish dad had stuck around long enough to see the new one. He’d have loved it). But Star Trek was always on the Channel 11 lineup and Sal’s pizza was always in ours.</span></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"><span class="Apple-style-span">This was dad/son bonding time and just plain fun. We’d call ahead and order by phone, then go pick up. They never delivered so we always went to pick it up…always chatted with Carmine mostly, Sal was usually silent but never unfriendly. We would vary sometimes and get toppings, just for fun…and they were always good. Even better, if there were leftovers, we’d have cold pizza for breakfast.</span></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"><span class="Apple-style-span">Trust me, this is a sublime pleasure when the pizza is good. It doesn’t work for all pizzas.</span></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"><span class="Apple-style-span">More and more as the years pass and the pain of my father’s suicide is layered over by years, experience and perspective, Sal and Carmine’s pizza remains my favorite dad related set of memories.</span></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"><span class="Apple-style-span">As some of you know, this past summer I tried my hand at apartment showing for a real estate firm on the </span></span><st1:place st="on"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"><span class="Apple-style-span">Upper West Side</span></span></st1:place><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"><span class="Apple-style-span">. This was not a terribly successful venture, in the two months I did this I made under $700 altogether and generally ended up wanting to go postal on “clients”. It is an industry I may return to but not with that particular venue.</span></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"><span class="Apple-style-span">A plus though was that many of the apartments I showed were in my old neighborhood and I had some pretty surreal experiences showing apartments on blocks that we didn’t even go to when I was a kid because they were too dangerous. Wild stuff, and fun.</span></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"><span class="Apple-style-span">Mid July I was showing an apartment in the low 100s to a couple of college girls. I was in a pensive mood. It was what would have been my father’s 72</span></span><sup><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"><span class="Apple-style-span">nd</span></span></sup><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"><span class="Apple-style-span"> birthday and whenever it is his birthday or the anniversary of the day we found him I’m always a tad on edge. Even when I don’t realize what day it is.</span></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"><span class="Apple-style-span">It was warm, but there was a slight rain that tempered the warmth that made the day actually very pleasant. I showed the apartment (which I liked very much but the girl's typically didn't, that's another blog for another day. Spoiled young clients with no clue), afterward I chose to walk a bit before heading back to the office. Lo and behold, there was Carmine tossing away and spinning a pie.</span></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"><span class="Apple-style-span">At this point I was certain that Sal and Carmine’s was no more. I hadn’t been in this part of town in a very long time. The last time I had been I “misremembered” the location and found what I thought in it’s place one of those newfangled awful pizza places that specialized in dreadful toppings to mask the utter lack of flavor. At this moment I was in one of those rare states of mind here I am deeply grateful that I am wrong about something. I stared for awhile, took a picture and then walked inside and ordered a slice and a cherry soda which was my standard back at dad’s.</span></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"><span class="Apple-style-span">Carmine looked much older of course than the last time I’d been there which I think was about 10 years. I wasn’t aware at the time that Sal had passed a year earlier, but given how old they must have been I surmised and said nothing to Carmine, only that I was so happy to see him.</span></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"><span class="Apple-style-span">He remembered me after a few minutes and asked about my dad and brother. I lied and told him that dad was fine but had moved away years ago. I didn’t want to get into it. I was too happy with the sight of Carmine, the taste of my favorite pizza which had not altered a jot. I savored every bite, grinning the entire time. I wanted this moment to be about the good memory, not grief.</span></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: medium;"><span class="Apple-style-span">I thanked Carmine for the years of great pizza and that I couldn't wait to be back again then left. I stood outside for a few moments and said quietly “Happy Birthday, Dad”, then turned and headed back to the office.</span></span></p></div>Opinionated Giftshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03803183270924780590noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-265681679905609547.post-62845394515492646832010-09-28T12:09:00.008-04:002010-09-28T17:05:38.132-04:00It would be laughable if it weren't so sad.“…the purpose of playing, whose end, both at the first and now, was and is, to hold as 'twere the mirror up to nature: <span style="font-weight:bold;"><span class="Apple-style-span"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">to show virtue her feature, scorn her own image, and the very age and body of the time his form and<br />pressure.</span></span></span><span class="Apple-style-span"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">”<br /><i>William Shakespeare, Hamlet Act III, Scene 2</i></span></span><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_Q7RnW1lYHjU/TKIW90gc-wI/AAAAAAAAAC8/qX_unddEw2o/s1600/Conyers.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 250px; height: 320px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_Q7RnW1lYHjU/TKIW90gc-wI/AAAAAAAAAC8/qX_unddEw2o/s320/Conyers.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5522001344432241410" /></a><span class="Apple-style-span"><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-small; ">The humorless John Conyers</span></div></span><span class="Apple-style-span"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><br />Much has already been said and written about Stephen Colbert’s testimony before the House last week regarding migrant workers. Too bad, I’m chiming in anyway.<br /><br />Many may not realize that Colbert was speaking about plight of migrant workers because the press, both liberal and conservative and even “moderate” obsessed about there being a *gasp* comedian in that Capital and what an insult/joke/degradation etc. that is.<br /><br />Because of course, having Elmo, lying steroid addled athletes, the massively under-qualified Alberto Gonzalez testify before the House were such dignified events. As if allowing someone like Louis Gohmert or Michelle Bachmann let anything come out of their ignorant and crazy mouths in the halls of congress were remotely respectful.<div><br />This wasn’t a disease suffered only by FOX anchors, Chuck Todd who was at one time a promising and bright analyst for MSNBC but who has become a barely articulate mouth breather of an anchor whined incessantly about the dignity of the House as if he hadn’t been covering Washington for the past two years.<br /><br />Apparently, the press will do anything but discuss the plight of migrant workers, the sorry state of our nation’s farms and farmers and the decline of the American Agricultural tradition. It’s easier (lazier) to focus on the trivial and make it a big fucking deal.<br /><br />Note to Chuck Todd: When you’re in the same company as Megyn Kelly, check yourself.<br /><br />So far as I can tell, only Keith Olbermann and Lawrence O’Donnell actually covered and discussed the meat of what Colbert was addressing and why he was brought in to testify. Only these two of the press, that I can find, and John Stewart, even approached the seriousness of the situation. Is it possible that only these three individuals understand the purpose of satire in the national media?<br /><br />It’s possible. The media is filled with idiots and sycophants, after all, as we already know. It’s also possible that the media, which is pretty much 100% corporate owned, doesn’t want us talking about these things at all. But that’s another subject….or rather an offshoot of the same subject.<br /><br />What I want to discuss is America’s growing lack of a sense of humor which I believe can be traced right down to the chipping away of arts education. As an actor I am of course an advocate for arts education in our public schools and it should be no surprise that I believe arts education is more important than what are generally called, the basics.<br /><br />Why, you may ask?<br /><br />Learning about theater, dance, music and visual arts opens up both sides of the brain. It stimulates creativity and creative thinking. It provides a very strong foundation with which to learn math, science, reading and writing. It teaches you to approach the world from a more rounded standpoint than a narrow, left brained training.<br /><br />We learn through the arts, how to play and by learning how to play, we learn how to work.<br /><br />But in the last couple of decades we have seen and experienced not only the cutting of arts education from schools, but the dismissal of it as a luxury. As if there is nothing to be gained from understanding what an artist might be trying to communicate or what goes into learning and bringing a part to life on stage, etc. As if a stimulated imagination has nothing to do with anything else in the world.<br /><br />We can certainly get into a discussion on whether this is actually part of an overall strategy to keep the masses under educated in order to keep the powerful in power and I would agree with that assessment, but that’s also another blog post for another day.<br /><br />The other thing that comes with arts education is a broadening of a sense of humor. Any education that involves being creative does this. Human beings love to laugh and we find new ways to do it whenever we can.<br /><br />Unless you’re Gallagher. Taking a hammer to a watermelon is great and hilarious…when you’re 8 years. Then, hopefully, you grow up and it becomes mildly amusing but you need some good, strong satire, of whatever political bent, to really get your mind going.<br /><br />And this is what Stephen Colbert gave us last week.<br /><br />John Conyers, a congressman whose politics are much aligned with mine but who is, largely, a rather humorless man (and I have followed him for about 25 years now) let that lack of sense of humor get the best of him.</div><div><br /></div><div>THAT, ladies and gentlemen, is the embarrassment.<br /><br />Not that Stephen Colbert testified in character, but that John Conyers didn’t get it. That Chuck Todd, most of the House, all of Fox News and most of the rest of the media DIDN’T GET that the joke is on us. That is what shames me as an American.<br /><br />Nancy Pelosi got it. Clearly Zoe Lofgren, who requested his testimony got it. What she didn’t get was that she was surrounded by colleagues and a press too narrowminded and too childish to think or to understand. Her mistake was in assuming that her colleagues both left and right were smart enough to get it. Her mistake was thinking that the press would instead of asking what the steak was seasoned with would skip right to the dessert of bad rice pudding with off brand jello.<br /><br />Yes, in that one day that he worked, Colbert became more of an expert on the subject than anyone in that room who wasn’t testifying. By a long shot.<br /><br />Colbert’s testimony, joke by joke, jeered at the lack of action, the lack of character and the lack of maturity that one finds in today’s politics and in so doing made clear what happens to people when politicians act as they do. He even brilliantly brought it home with a final, sober and out of character statement that to spoke our humanity and human dignity.</div><div><br /></div><div>But our own lack of humor allows us to buy the nonsense that FOX, Todd and the rest feed us.<br /><br />As an artist, Stephen Colbert held the mirror up to nature, and nature didn’t like what looked back at it, so…it whined about the mirror instead of itself.<br /><br />It is to laugh.<br /></div></span></span>Opinionated Giftshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03803183270924780590noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-265681679905609547.post-21130189303848425772010-09-18T00:00:00.005-04:002010-09-18T00:14:05.046-04:00And while we're on the subject of not having any fun....<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_Q7RnW1lYHjU/TJQ8gF_KQeI/AAAAAAAAAC0/hIT-ouoCCXU/s1600/afib.gif"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 302px; height: 320px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_Q7RnW1lYHjU/TJQ8gF_KQeI/AAAAAAAAAC0/hIT-ouoCCXU/s320/afib.gif" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5518101965496271330" /></a><br />Early Friday morning I had a panic attack. Full on, pain in the chest, cold sweat, dizzy spell, am I having a heart attack, am I about to die, what the hell panic attack.<br /><br />I’ve only had this once before, several years ago. It was many months after my accident. I had recovered well enough, but woke up in the middle of the night having some chest pains. Being over 40 and it being late at night…the mind goes to ridiculous thoughts…and all I had to do was entertain the notion of a heart attack to scare the becrappus out of myself.<br /><br />It’s not that hard to do…the fact is that the symptoms of a panic attack are pretty much exactly the same as a heart attack.<br /><br />“Dumbass, why didn’t you call 911?!!!” I hear you shout.<br /><br />Well, that is what I did 6 years ago…got the whole treatment, ambulance oxygen…the works. By the time the EMT guys got there though I was feeling better if idiotic. But they insisted I go to the hospital and check things out. <br /><br />I ended up being there for 3 days. It took them 3 days to tell me that I was fine, my cholesterol was a little high but my heart was in great shape and there were no signs of a heart attack. The pains were symptomatic of some of my injuries and that I’d fallen into a midlife panic attack. SO there. Fortunately I had a very good health plan at the time and my copay was small.<br /><br />Jump to the present. Much of the process is exactly the same, except this time I have no insurance…and while I was talking myself down from the panic and semi successfully convincing myself I was not suffering from heart failure (despite Google’s insistence that I might be) I also reminded myself that if I was hospitalized, there was no way on this green earth that I was going to be able to pay for a fucking thing…OOOHHHH boy…More debt. <br /><br />This did not help the panic. I couldn't bring myself to call. Stupid? Probably. But since I'm sitting here writing this almost 24 hours later, I feel it was the right way to go. So I did some slow yogic breathing, did my best to go to my happy place, and closed my eyes.<br /><br />Eventually I sat upright in the kitchen and slowly drank a glass of water I’d left on the table before bed. I held my iPhone in my hand, ready to dial. But I started to feel fine and eventually I went back to bed and lay there awhile and stared at my phone. I relaxed..my chest stopped hurting, I fell back asleep for a few hours and woke up feeling normal.<br /><br />In the morning I remembered something else. I'm also hypoglycemic. I sometimes have to watch how I eat and how often I eat. If I over do the carbs and under do the protein I can end up having similar episodes. This has happened to me once or twice, but so rarely that I forget about it. And by rarely I mean 3 times in 25 years. Pretty much all I'd eaten yesterday was 2 mugs of coffee and a big plate of spaghetti with two meatballs. <br /><br />Not.Smart.<br /><br />It’s annoying that the kind of ailment I sometimes suffer from ends up being so similar to a heart attack. As I approach 50 this has to be a reality I face, even though heart attacks don’t run in my family at all. Seriously, the only member of either side of my family that didn’t die at a very old age of some form of cancer or another was my great grandfather. And that was a brain hemorrhage. Oh wait, my grandmother…but she was 86, diabetic, massively overweight and drank Jim Beam like a fish. OH and the heart attack happened while climbing 4 flights of stairs. She was also, God love her, batshit crazy.<br /><br />Still, the bottom line is that I have to be more conscious. <br /><br />Yeah, I’m nervous as hell, I was actually going from store to store filling out applications in supermarkets like a high school kid yesterday. And yeah, I had visions of myself as a 4 year old man bagging groceries for a living. Hey if I get hired I will suck it up and do it. I can handle that, but it’s a lie to say that it’s not a depressing thought. <br /><br />This isn’t exactly what I had in mind for myself.<br /><br />Anyway I’m above ground is a good one. I’ve used that phrase to remain positive for a couple of decades. It’s been helpful and funny to say it with a smile.<br /><br />But maybe it’s time I raised my standards…I need to find something to inspire me.Opinionated Giftshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03803183270924780590noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-265681679905609547.post-46954065533645016752010-09-12T11:35:00.004-04:002010-09-15T17:00:12.355-04:00Treading Water<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_Q7RnW1lYHjU/TIz22S2NVII/AAAAAAAAACs/DVO8jmWtpzU/s1600/beach-treading-0807-lg.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 240px; height: 312px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_Q7RnW1lYHjU/TIz22S2NVII/AAAAAAAAACs/DVO8jmWtpzU/s320/beach-treading-0807-lg.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5516055056254588034" /></a><br /><p class="MsoNormal">So, yeah, it’s been awhile. My latest blog entry has a months long gap between it and it’s predecessor.</p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p>What gives?</p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p>During BlogHer, <a href="http://majorbedhead.net">@MajorBedHead</a> asked if I had stopped blogging altogether. It sure seemed that way. I would sit down, have an idea to blog about, then start writing. Then I’d find something to do, never get back to writing and just couldn’t muster up the urge to continue.</p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal">Like the White House’s “Summer of Recovery” my summer was <span style="mso-spacerun:yes"> </span>productive as a wet noodle screwing in a hot lightbulb. That’s not entirely fair. The recovery act DID actually help maintain and create some jobs. And I had a minor one in that time.</p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p>But as I wrote my piece for yesterday, I realized that what I had been doing was retreating. My long stint of unemployment was getting to me on an emotional level. My efforts in the real estate proved beyond frustrating and frankly really demoralizing. My luck was so bad with it that veterans in the office where I was working even said “Wow, What the fuck?”</p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p>I’d also been doing some production work for a friend who was participating in a theater festival here. So I decided to ditch showing apartments and just focus on that. And when it ended, I found as much motivation to show apartments as I had with writing in this blog.</p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p>The difference was, I knew I was supposed to be writing, whereas with the real estate gig, I felt no such urging.</p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p>I don’t seem to be the only one @LesleeHorner of <a href="http://lesleehorner.wordpress.com/">Waiting For The Click</a> had flat out decided to stop blogging on a regular basis, <a href="http://too-much-perfection.blogspot.com/">@2MuchPerfection</a> has also been a very infrequent writer, and even @MajorBedHead spent some time away from her blog while dealing with the end of her marriage.<a href="http://www.miaontop.com/"> @MiaOnTop</a> took a hiatus as she moved to <st1:state st="on">Texas</st1:state> from <st1:state st="on"><st1:place st="on">New York</st1:place></st1:state>. There was a lot of shifting going on. The thing is that everyone else seemed to know where they were shifting to. I still haven’t figured out what is going on with me.</p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p>What really shocked me though, as I logged onto Blogger to write the other day was that <span style="mso-spacerun:yes"> </span>that not only had I not written, I’d been pretty piss poor in following up on the blog’s that I read. <a href="http://www.musingsof4madman.blogspot.com/">Musings of A Madman</a> would email me to remind me to read up (though lately he’s been AWOL with his new life), Leslee would knock on my Facebook to ask if I’d read her. It wasn’t personal. I just wasn’t busting out. But when I looked at the Blogroll on my page, I realized that I just hadn’t kept up with anyone that I had been reading on a regular basis.</p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p>I really had withdrawn. If not for Twitter and Facebook, it’s entirely possible that I’d have had almost no contact with anyone for most of the summer.</p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p>There are other factors. Some creative outlets that I’ve had have fizzled because of time and circumstance, so I’ve had to shift slowly to different creative writing outlets that are more self reliant. This isn’t easy for a guy with ADD.</p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p>I’ve done a little other writing here and there. Something that may become a one man piece about my father’s suicide and the role that Fear has played in his/my/the world’s life. Slow progress but coming along.</p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p>I’ve smattered around with an adaptation of a series of books that I love too. But just smattered.</p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p>A lot of my energy has gone into just changing my frame of mine. Yes, affirmations, meditations. Things to bring my mind away from despair and back to a place of forward thinking and inspiration.</p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p>I don’t despair, and haven’t in the 6 months that I’ve been out of work, but like a tired swimmer treading water, I’m managing to keep from drowning, yet can’t seem to figure out what direction I need to swim to get back to shore. I don’t know what that shore looks like and I just don’t want to keep swimming in the wrong direction and end up in deeper, rougher waters.</p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p>Overall, I’m doing ok. I’m healthy, I’m enduring. But I’m not thriving. I’m not having any fun.</p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p>But something is “clicking” to an extent. Here I am, writing, and I am catching up on the blogs I haven’t kept up on. I’ve rearranged my room which is no small thing considering how small and oddly shaped my room is. I’ve also started re-engaging with the polyamorous community in <st1:state st="on"><st1:place st="on">New York</st1:place></st1:state>. It looks like I may be doing some more production work for a small production of a play here for even smaller money, but it’s work and in a field I love. And there’s an interview coming up at the end of the month that I’m not excited about but like the prospect of SOMEthing cooking in the work situation.</p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p>I think I’m back. I hope I’m welcome. And I hope to keep some momentum going.</p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p>Thanks for your patience if you haven’t given up entirely on me.</p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></p>Opinionated Giftshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03803183270924780590noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-265681679905609547.post-35607978330562424092010-09-10T15:06:00.007-04:002010-09-10T15:32:05.322-04:00Gateless<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_Q7RnW1lYHjU/TIqErTXusmI/AAAAAAAAACk/w0Fvn1svQWw/s1600/new-york-statue-of-liberty-new-york-city-nyc005.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 214px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_Q7RnW1lYHjU/TIqErTXusmI/AAAAAAAAACk/w0Fvn1svQWw/s320/new-york-statue-of-liberty-new-york-city-nyc005.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5515366573137637986" /></a><span class="Apple-style-span"><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-small;"><span class="Apple-style-span"><br /></span></span></div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-small;"><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span">Picture from http://www.planetware.com/picture/new-york-city-new-york-statue-of-liberty-us-nyc005.ht</span>m</div></span></span><br />I’ve blogged on this subject before <a href="http://gifts-of-thought.blogspot.com/2009/03/ground-zero.html">here</a> and <a href="http://gifts-of-thought.blogspot.com/2009/09/another-911-blog.html">here</a>. In fact I guess this is sort of an annual thing. Anyway, my readers won’t be surprised by what I have to say today regarding everything involving tomorrow’s anniversary.<br /><br />What will shock my readers is that I’ve actually made a blog entry for the first time in four months. More on that another time.<br /><br />As I’ve said before. I live here in New York City. I’ve lived here just about my entire life. I lived here before the Twin Towers were visible and lived with them as they dominated the city land and sky-scape.<br /><br />Nine years later it is still strange to me to look out and not see them from various spots in the city. From West 4th Street and 6th Avenue, to the Smith and 9th street stop on the G and F train in Brooklyn, from the Staten Island Ferry to the Ditmars Blvd stop on the N train in Queens. Nine years later there is still something not there that ought to be there.<br /><br />I remember my last visit to the Observation Deck at the World Trade Center with my then 10 year old daughter as we looked out at the Liberty Science Museum, Long Island, Upstate New York and of course Manhattan Island.<br /><br />For those of us that live here, we are constantly reminded. The skyline itself is an empty echo of the thousands of lives contained in those steel marvels of engineering. The many more thousands of lives left behind in loss and pain.<br /><br />As I’ve pointed out, I somehow escaped personal heartache on that day. No one I directly know was amongst the murdered. But many I do know have lost lovers, friends, husbands, fathers and children. Every moment I talk to them on the phone, or see them on Facebook or have a cup of coffee I am reminded. Every waking day, they are reminded.<br /><br />My heartache is for the heartache of those I care about and of course for the scar on the city for which I have a love/hate relationship and with which an indelible part of my soul will always belong.<br /><br />It’s also no secret that aesthetically, I hated those buildings. While marvels of engineering they seemed out of place at the time. And I still feel that way about them then.<br /><br />But now…<br /><br />Like them or not, they were unforgettable, powerful and a kind of gateway to the city. A gateway this city no longer has.<br /><br />The Statue of Liberty no longer stands in the shadow of that gate. A gate that increasingly seems to remain closed to what America is. There was a kind of sense of the Statue of Liberty showing her light to the harbor as she stood at the feet of the Gate that was the Twin Towers. A Gate now closed.<br /><br />Liberty still shines a light onto the harbor, her words of welcome still inscribed. But God forbid you want to build a community center aimed at healing that gaping wound. God Forbid you make a place that yes, is primarily a Muslim Cultural Center but that also will house places of prayer for every religious practice available. God Forbid that an act can be made to reach out, to bridge the divide.<br /><br />Oh you’re welcome here, but only up to a point.<br /><br />September 11th must be a day of reflection, prayer and thoughtfulness. However it is you observe for yourself and ponder the nature of humanity’s penchant for cruelty and violence to each other and what we can do to grow from it, to be greater than it. To be better than we have been.<br /><br />No, instead we focus on whackjobs burning books of worship, we throw parties to make money and then retroactively decide to donate the proceeds somewhere and claim that the party date was a coincidence. We claim to be thinking of the families of the fallen when we display our astounding ignorance of every conceivable fact and meaning. We exploit and wring our hands, but God forbid we actually solve the issue and learn to live WITH each other.<br /><br />Clearly I stand in support of the Cultural Center known as Park 51. But I will not be joining the demonstrations tomorrow. I do not believe that September 11th should be marching or demonstrating for anything. ANYthing.<br /><br />Anything else dishonors the dead and dishonors the families of the dead, whether at the World Trade Center, The Pentagon or that open field in Shanksville.<br /><br />We need reflection. We need to think. We need to pray and send light. We need to volunteer. We need to really help.<br /><br /><br />As always I say we don't need to be told to "Never Forget". That's a self aggrandizing phrase promoted by people who are trying to be part of something that frankly they.just.aren't.<br /><br />What happened was yes, a national tragedy. But the wounds are felt HERE. Not in Wasilla, not in Florida....HERE.<br /><br /><br />Any idiot will tell you that if you keep scratching a wound it will get infected. We need to stop scratching at the wound.Opinionated Giftshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03803183270924780590noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-265681679905609547.post-13411786339056673252010-05-18T16:36:00.012-04:002010-05-18T17:27:45.257-04:00We Are Not Our PrejudicesIn 1966 and 67 when they were filming the original <a href="http://www.imdb.com/title/tt0063442/">Planet of the Apes</a> the cast and crew stumbled upon an interesting sociological phenomenon. For those of you who have never seen the movie or haven’t seen it in a long time, there are three species of ape featured; chimpanzees, orangutans and gorillas. <br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_Q7RnW1lYHjU/S_L_s2hFecI/AAAAAAAAAB8/oKqojedvAiU/s1600/Roddy+Ape.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 239px; height: 320px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_Q7RnW1lYHjU/S_L_s2hFecI/AAAAAAAAAB8/oKqojedvAiU/s320/Roddy+Ape.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5472717643222186434" /></a><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:x-small;"><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style=" ;font-family:arial;">Roddy McDowell and his counterpart, Cornelius.</span></div></span><br />The makeup worn was extensive and delicate. Once on, it really could not be taken off for the entire day of shooting. Actors had to eat smoothies for lunch through straws…and delicately. So, meals were generally eaten with full on ape make up. Here’s what would happen.<br /><br />No matter who was underneath the make up, black, white, Asian or otherwise, each of the three species tended to sit at the same tables with each other, never mixing until someone realized what was going on. The chimps would sit with the chimps, orangutans with orangutans and gorillas with gorillas.<br /><br />This, to me, tells us a lot about how we as the animals known as human beings operate. We are naturally gravitated toward that which is like us, and suspicious of that which is unlike us. Old point, I know. But an important one because I think this goes to the heart of what America strives to be, as opposed to what it is.<br /><br />We have initial reactions in our guts about what’s different, who’s different. These reactions are not rational, they are based on nothing more than fear. Sometimes there is a level of experience behind that fear. Sometimes not. But the instinctive needpreference to be with the familiar is paramount.<br /><br />For some of us, this is a given and we develop, over time, a strategy to overcome our prejudice. We ask ourselves questions, such as; What am I really afraid of? What am I basing this reaction on? Can I get past this sensation to see what’s really there? With a little effort we tend to be able to move past it.<br /><br />That’s why I have held to my belief that we are all racist in some way shape or form. It’s inherent. What makes us better, what moves us past that is our other innate behavior. The ability to question ourselves.<br /><br />Some of us are better at it than others. I don’t have much patience for people who refuse to do it. People like George W. Bush, Sarah Palin, or for that matter Christopher Hitchens.<br /><br />Some of us simply sink further into our prejudices. We remain comfortable with them. We look for statements and events that make that security blanket of the familiar thicker and warmer. We don’t notice that when we take that blanket and pull it over our heads, it gets too dark to see that there’s a world outside that blanket, and it’s not exactly a world that fits our warm comfort.<br /><br />Hence, Arizona. Now look, I don’t actually have an issue with maintaining some enforcement of expecting people to have proof of citizenship on them. The fact is, if you have ID, you should have it on you. That’s true no matter where or what you are. But when the law suddenly states that law enforcement can act on its own hunches (because there’s no real way to define ‘reasonable suspicion’ any other way. ) and when you threaten that the state can sue said law enforcement for NOT acting on those hunches..well..you’re just saying that you’re making sure you look out for the unfamiliar.<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_Q7RnW1lYHjU/S_MATBkAu2I/AAAAAAAAACE/33KnLVayZiw/s1600/Arizona.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 246px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_Q7RnW1lYHjU/S_MATBkAu2I/AAAAAAAAACE/33KnLVayZiw/s320/Arizona.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5472718299022277474" /></a><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:x-small;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;">My beautiful homestate filled with flawed sheeple.</span></span></div><br />Governor Brewer can state over and over again that racial profiling is illegal. But until she actually says WHY it’s illegal and listens to the Sheriff’s of the border counties on why the law makes it harder not easier on their efforts, then she’s acting on that prejudice. She proves my point even further when she signs legislation banning ethnic studies in her state for middle and high schools.<br /><br />(It’s worth noting too, that those Mexicans they hate so much were there first.)<br /><br />It’s no better here in New York City where <a href="http://www.foxnews.com/us/2010/05/17/muslims-nyc-planning-build-second-smaller-mosque-near-ground-zero/">two mosques are being planned</a> for the area right across the street from Ground Zero.<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_Q7RnW1lYHjU/S_MDco9C8sI/AAAAAAAAACU/yLcOZjhsggw/s1600/bgFinancialDistrictManhattan.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 208px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_Q7RnW1lYHjU/S_MDco9C8sI/AAAAAAAAACU/yLcOZjhsggw/s320/bgFinancialDistrictManhattan.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5472721762749969090" /></a><br />Reprehensible Representative Peter King is offended and some 9/11 families are too as well as the same idiots who are afraid to try terrorists on American soil. Well, I’m sorry these people can’t see past their prejudices on this one either.<br /><br />Honestly, when I first read about it, I too had a moment of twinge. I’m ashamed to say that my initial reaction was one of distaste. But then I remembered something. I’m an American and an intelligent human being and I stand for better than that.<br /><br />Islam did not smash down the Twin Towers. A bunch of sick idiots following a power hungry schmuck hiding behind religion did that. And frankly every religion is guilty of that sin.<br /><br />Let me explain something about the financial district of Manhattan. It is one of the most excellent examples of bad planning that you can imagine. Most of the tallest buildings in the city are concentrated in this area. An area where 60% of the streets are the same width they were 400 years ago when New York (then New Amsterdam) was first settled. To say this area is crowded during the day would be as if to say boiling water hurts when you touch it.<br /><br />Those small streets themselves are lined with shops and food carts. The vast <i>vast</i> majority of those carts and many of those shops are owned and/or run by Muslim Americans. I’m talking about donut and coffee carts, falafel stands, hot dog stands, kebob stands, (is it bad that I keep thinking about Homer Simpson buying Kluv Kolahsh in front of the World Trade Center?) halal hamburger stands, pretzel and chestnut carts, jewelry shops, restaurants, delis......<br /><br />So again…IT’S FUCKING CROWDED.<br /><br />Now, you have a vast population of Muslim Americans working in this area. They have been here for a long time. Some of them were killed on 9/11. Are we actually going to suggest that they can’t have a place to worship, because they happen to share a claim to a faith that was had by the dickbrains that crashed the Twin Towers?<br /><br />The fact is, we need a 13 story mosque in that area, because people of all faiths and professions literally spill onto the streets in that part of town.<br /><br />When I worked in midtown it took me door to door 40 to 50 minutes to get to work. In the time I was working in the Financial District last year, 3 miles closer to me, it took over an hour. That’s because of crowd navigation. I’m not exaggerating.<br /><br />So there is not only a spiritual need, but a PRACTICAL need.<br /><br />Are we really going to not get past our own prejudices caused by associations that are more emotional than rational?<br /><br />I say no. I say we are Americans and we stand for freedom.<br /><br />It shouldn’t surprise me. Gretchen Carlson has <a href="http://mediamatters.org/mmtv/201005170002">the audacity to suggest that a Muslim woman won Miss USA out of political correctness</a>. Other right wing idiots seem to be falling over themselves to join the chorus on that one. It couldn’t possibly be because she’s hot.<br /><br />Actually, the real problem is that Carlson, a beauty pageant queen herself should be careful. All beauty pageants are bullshit and if she starts trying to peel away at that issue, she’s just going to skin herself alive.<br /><br />We need to poke our heads out of our security blankets and see the world and recognize the world outside doesn’t have room for us to not question our fears.<br /><br />I’m sorry for the grief of the 9/11 families. I am friends with a 9/11 widow who in fact thinks this is all nonsense. But they need to move beyond the blanket over their grief and remember who the real enemy is.<br /><br /><div style="text-align: center;"><b>Otherwise the terrorists have already won. </b></div><div><br /></div><div>They like us in our dark warm blankets, because then we can only see what’s in our dark little fearful minds instead of what is actually happening.<br /><br />Let’s remember who and what we stand for. Let’s remember that for the past 150 years we have built this nation on the sweat and backs of the different. Let’s.Be.Better.<br /><br /><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;">I also recommend </span></span><a href="http://www.huffingtonpost.com/2010/05/07/13-story-mosque-to-be-bui_n_566080.html"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;">this piece</span></span></a><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"> for some historical perspective on the Crusades.</span></span></div></div>Opinionated Giftshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03803183270924780590noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-265681679905609547.post-25863541712918499782010-05-13T18:40:00.027-04:002010-05-14T00:48:50.034-04:00Twelve Years<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_Q7RnW1lYHjU/S-zRSnoYDCI/AAAAAAAAABM/SyIre0soIMg/s1600/JRG1fewdayzold.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 205px; height: 320px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_Q7RnW1lYHjU/S-zRSnoYDCI/AAAAAAAAABM/SyIre0soIMg/s320/JRG1fewdayzold.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5470977765154491426" /></a><br />Twelve years ago this week I was spending my days going through my father's apartment with my brother. Dad had shot himself on the 9th and his body was found by his oldest friend in New York on the 12th. Twelve years ago Wednesday.<div><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_Q7RnW1lYHjU/S-zOvEkXRAI/AAAAAAAAAAs/E4zx6vY1hko/s1600/JRG1age4maybe.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 230px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_Q7RnW1lYHjU/S-zOvEkXRAI/AAAAAAAAAAs/E4zx6vY1hko/s320/JRG1age4maybe.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5470974955423745026" /></a><br /></div><div>Twelve years ago I was sifting through grief, memory and questions questions questions. Not the ones you might think. The fact is, when I got the call from my brother that the police had called him from Dad's apartment, I knew what had happened. I'd hoped I was wrong. But I knew.</div><div><br /></div><div>Mom said it best that night when we called to let her know. "He was always so sad". It was true. He was also scared. Whatever the combination, he had a dim world view. </div><div><br /></div><div>I loved my dad. He was basically a good man who never really dealt with his anger issues, his alcoholism or his strengths. A talented actor, he'd packed us up from Tucson Arizona, sold the Ford Falcon and got us on a train to New York City and went straight into substitute teaching and social work. His career as an actor was essentially small productions in holes in the wall (before the moniker "Off Off Broadway" was coined.) and extra work in movies. </div><div><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_Q7RnW1lYHjU/S-zO-ycm1tI/AAAAAAAAAA0/rH7bBJrXMlo/s1600/JRG1Cowboy.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 258px; height: 320px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_Q7RnW1lYHjU/S-zO-ycm1tI/AAAAAAAAAA0/rH7bBJrXMlo/s320/JRG1Cowboy.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5470975225437279954" /></a><br /></div><div>As a kid I would listen while he would lament the vagaries of the business and how hard it was...and it instilled in me the belief that the business was indeed brutal. It didn't stop me from wanting to be an actor. It didn't stop me from thinking I could do better. But these things are insidious and the sins of the father are often visited upon the son. His beliefs did become mine and even when I achieved some pretty good if minor successes, my joy would be tainted by fear of the success not lasting.</div><div><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_Q7RnW1lYHjU/S-zPkNV9dEI/AAAAAAAAAA8/TuUCQdAmKcM/s1600/JRG1HS-CollegeFootball.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 259px; height: 320px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_Q7RnW1lYHjU/S-zPkNV9dEI/AAAAAAAAAA8/TuUCQdAmKcM/s320/JRG1HS-CollegeFootball.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5470975868312319042" /></a><br /></div><div>Now to be sure, being an actor isn't easy.<span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"> </span> It can be brutal, but I can see very clearly as I look back how my own thoughts and feelings that were inherited affected the way I approached my career and subsequently the way my career developed...or didn't as it turns out.</div><div><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_Q7RnW1lYHjU/S-zQJ1y40-I/AAAAAAAAABE/Sp7UIrzYlNY/s1600/JRG1USAF.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 258px; height: 320px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_Q7RnW1lYHjU/S-zQJ1y40-I/AAAAAAAAABE/Sp7UIrzYlNY/s320/JRG1USAF.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5470976514826228706" /></a><br /></div>Twelve years ago fears and doubts overtook my father to the point that he no longer was able to reason. This man <span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"> </span>who raced down the street with me...encouraged me to take the training wheels off my back when he knew I could. The man who when he saw I was floundering in my efforts to audition for the High School of Performing Arts bought a gazillion plays for me to look through and helped me find the right pieces and even coached me. A man who as a social worker had saved or improved as best he could, so many lives, wasn't even able to remember a simple meditation technique because anxiety had overcome him.<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_Q7RnW1lYHjU/S-zVzNAgneI/AAAAAAAAAB0/SkchiJOuZOo/s1600/Dadme.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 224px; height: 320px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_Q7RnW1lYHjU/S-zVzNAgneI/AAAAAAAAAB0/SkchiJOuZOo/s320/Dadme.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5470982722990153186" /></a><br />He'd been given Buspar and started to take it, then stopped. 12 years ago it got so bad that he sat at the edge of his bed and ate the barrel of a .357 magnum. He left a note that was really more of an excuse than anything else. Fears of a cancer that didn't exist. <a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_Q7RnW1lYHjU/S-zR4LTSreI/AAAAAAAAABU/toim-_aW5_Q/s1600/JRG+BH+ad+store+card.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 318px; height: 320px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_Q7RnW1lYHjU/S-zR4LTSreI/AAAAAAAAABU/toim-_aW5_Q/s320/JRG+BH+ad+store+card.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5470978410384895458" /></a><br />Two weeks later, the girl he wanted to marry, a dancer from Japan was finally allowed back into the country. He'd become convinced it wouldn't happen after months of legal back and forth. Fear of being alone and abandoned convinced him that his life wouldn't work out as he desired. So it seems he decided to just stop trying.<br />12 years later I still wrestle with loving him and hating him. Remembering his capacity for compassion for everyone while he seemed to only have pity for himself. I am sometimes on the edge of forgiving him. And then I remember having to tell my daughter what happened. I remember how as she is now almost 20 years old, she can't play chess because that's what she used to do with Grandpa. I can't quite do it. <a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_Q7RnW1lYHjU/S-zS-67Y99I/AAAAAAAAABk/Q8G5xz3_U04/s1600/GpaGGpaSarah1992.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 250px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_Q7RnW1lYHjU/S-zS-67Y99I/AAAAAAAAABk/Q8G5xz3_U04/s320/GpaGGpaSarah1992.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5470979625760389074" /></a><br />For the past 12 years, for about 3 weeks before and after the anniversaries, he shows up in my dreams. Sometimes as if he's never been gone, sometimes as if he's only been on some trip in South America or something and we all just THOUGHT he was dead.I forget about it...forget it's that time of year...sometimes even the days of his actual death or the day he was found go by entirely unnoticed. Sometimes not.<br />Twelve years later I can watch Dirty Harry make one line comments about his Magnum and still get a kick out of it. But when Heroes first aired and there was an episode with half a skull being cut off and brains removed, I get completely worked up.<br />I wrestle with fear too. And it's not hard to see how it keeps me from acting. Clouds my thinking. I've made a decades long struggle of shifting from "can't" to "can". It hasn't been easy.<br />Twelve years ago I cremated my father. Twelve years later I'm still cremating parts of his legacy so I can rise from the ashes.<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_Q7RnW1lYHjU/S-zUratxtwI/AAAAAAAAABs/7N95oB4C9xE/s1600/16156phoenix.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 221px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_Q7RnW1lYHjU/S-zUratxtwI/AAAAAAAAABs/7N95oB4C9xE/s320/16156phoenix.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5470981489719097090" /></a>Opinionated Giftshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03803183270924780590noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-265681679905609547.post-66096717446431350622010-04-28T21:10:00.014-04:002010-04-28T23:34:19.142-04:00Fear, Loathing and Godwin's Law in the United States<div style="text-align: left;">I want to begin my blog entry with this clip from Chris Matthews' show Hardball this evening.</div><div><br /></div><div>I'm not the greatest fan of Mr. Matthews. He's the kind of guy that is too in love with the game of politics most of the time. He tends to miss a lot of things, but I do admire his tenacity and his drive...and the very enthusiasm that annoys me, also amuses me. But he's right on the money in this final comment from tonight's show. So let's start here before I talk about the state where I was born, Arizona.</div><div><br /></div><div><object width="300" height="175" id="msnbc4c2f"><param name="movie" value="http://www.msnbc.msn.com/id/32545640" classid="clsid:D27CDB6E-AE6D-11cf-96B8-444553540000" codebase="http://download.macromedia.com/pub/shockwave/cabs/flash/swflash.cab#version=10,0,0,0"><param name="FlashVars" value="launch=36835995&width=300&height=175"><param name="allowScriptAccess" value="always"><param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"><param name="wmode" value="opaque"><embed name="msnbc4c2f" src="http://www.msnbc.msn.com/id/32545640" width="300" height="175" flashvars="launch=36835995&width=300&height=175" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" wmode="opaque" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" pluginspage="http://www.adobe.com/shockwave/download/download.cgi?P1_Prod_Version=ShockwaveFlash"></embed></object><p style="font-size:11px; font-family:Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; color: #999; margin-top: 5px; background: transparent; text-align: center; width: 300px;">Visit msnbc.com for <a style="text-decoration:none !important; border-bottom: 1px dotted #999 !important; font-weight:normal !important; height: 13px; color:#5799DB !important;" href="http://www.msnbc.msn.com/">breaking news</a>, <a href="http://www.msnbc.msn.com/id/3032507" style="text-decoration:none !important; border-bottom: 1px dotted #999 !important; font-weight:normal !important; height: 13px; color:#5799DB !important;">world news</a>, and <a href="http://www.msnbc.msn.com/id/3032072" style="text-decoration:none !important; border-bottom: 1px dotted #999 !important; font-weight:normal !important; height: 13px; color:#5799DB !important;">news about the economy</a></p></div><div><br /></div><div>OK, first point made. I agree. Can we drop this shit already? Godwin's Law covered...now to Fear and Loathing.</div><div><br /></div><div>I was born in Tucson, Arizona, Pima County nearly 50 years ago. We left when I was just a year old and I've only been back twice since. </div><div><br /></div><div>I love Arizona. It is breathtakingly beautiful country. Tucson in particular to me because of the Santa Catalina mountains that surround it and the unbelievable cast of light the sun makes when shining through the blue sky and through the wind carved mountains. </div><div><br /></div><div>My grandmother and grandfather moved there in the late 40s from Waterloo, Iowa for my father's severe asthma. Basically, Arizona saved his life. </div><div><br /></div><div>My mother's parents moved to Tucson in 1952 from Arcadia, in the Los Angeles area because of my grandfather's job moving them. A new plant apparently for Hughes.</div><div><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;"><img src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_Q7RnW1lYHjU/S9jrZAtpWpI/AAAAAAAAAAc/sfSO47VrHY4/s320/39Tucson+mountains.jpg" /></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:x-small;">The Santa Catalinas as seen from the University of Arizona in Tucson, my dad's Alma Mater.</span></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:x-small;"><br /></span></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:x-small;"><img src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_Q7RnW1lYHjU/S9jr3_HdMNI/AAAAAAAAAAk/5zftsKzrdAs/s320/mt-lemmon-view.jpg" /></span></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:x-small;">Mount Lemmon, where my dad apparently spent many a college night with pals and a case of Coors. In the winter you can ski here and then drive over to Tucson at the bottom where it's 80 degrees.</span></span></div><div>Arizona was the place to be, the place to go. Jobs were growing, housing was booming. America's fixation with the myth of Cowboys and Indians was building to fever pitch. </div><div><br /></div><div>Decades later, after we moved to New York City in the early 60s, Arizona began to fall on hard times. Terrible employment, decaying industry as like every where else, jobs moved out of the country. Sure there was the tourist industry and there's a fuck ton of wonderfulness to tour to in Arizona (notice that I haven't even brought up the Grand Canyon), but tourist dollars are never enough. </div><div><br /></div><div>As I understand it things are starting to pick up a little in Arizona as they are slowly, oh so slowly picking up in the rest of the country. It's still got a ways to go...</div><div><br /></div><div>So...why has the Arizona legislature created a law that has not only alienated it from so much of the rest of the country, just about the entire Latino population OF that country and threatened it's economy with boycotts?</div><div><br /></div><div>Fear....and loathing.</div><div><br /></div><div>Remember the USA Patriot Act? Same thing. U.S. gets attacked. White House and Congress need to look like they are doing SOMEthing...but they have no idea what, so they go with the easy instead of the smart. They are also operating from absolute fear. Fear of attack, fear of losing elections, fear for life of family and nation. Fuck with civil liberties, the Constitution and what we stand for in order to give the illusion that we have taken a major step to solve the problem. Then use the powers given by said act to listen to soldiers having phone sex with their partners overseas.</div><div><br /></div><div>Now, the AZ legislature follows suit. Only they go even further. Arizona feels attacked. And not entirely without justification. Just over the border is Mexico, a country so thoroughly fucked up that to call it a rogue nation might be a compliment. The government there is dysfunctional. Drug cartels are running everything and so heavily out-arm Mexican law enforcement that they basically run the show....and they are now moving through to the U.S. to kidnap and ransom. </div><div><br /></div><div>This is not a frequent occurrence, but once is enough. </div><div><br /></div><div>Clearly we have a problem. </div><div><br /></div><div>To be sure, illegal immigration has been an issue for a long long time and something needs to be done about it. But it's the Federal government's job as it is an international issue.</div><div><br /></div><div>I'm not going to get into the inherent racism of the bill. Other's have written and blogged and broadcast about it. I can't add anything that is at all helpful except to say that I agree entirely. <a href="http://www.kgun9.com/global/Category.asp?c=172043&autoStart=true&topVideoCatNo=default&clipId=4738159&flvUri=&partnerclipid=">And so does the Sheriff of my home county</a>. </div><div><br /></div><div>Unfortunately he has a good bit of opposition among his constituents, but he's been sheriff of Pima County for 37 years, there must be more they like about him than dislike. But I'm encouraged to know that good men of courage and conviction are in the state to counter the cowardly acts of a legislature that can't function. For now.</div><div><br /></div><div>There's a lot of bigotry in Arizona, so I expect that idiots who don't learn from history think nothing of having to show papers to police on a whim. <a href="http://www.musingsof4madman.blogspot.com/">MusingMadman</a> (who is covering the outrage end of this argument very well, which is largely why I'm not going into it myself) already had a ridiculous argument with someone using the "If you're a law abiding citizen you have nothing to worry about" argument. I can't even begin to go into how fucking stupid that guy has to be.</div><div><br /></div><div>Anyway, I happen to like what Lindsay Graham, John Kerry and Joe Lieberman (yeah, I'm liking something LIEberman did...scares me too) are pushing. It's a sensible law that solves the current issue and deals with the issue of those who have been here for a long time with humanity and logic.</div><div><br /></div><div>Folks against "amnesty" don't like it...but that's idealogical claptrap. This is reality, Greg. (Points if you get the reference) There's just no way to deal with those any other way. </div><div><br /></div><div>Congress has to act. It hasn't done so for many Administrations both Democratic and Republican. It's time to deal.</div><div><br /></div><div>And then we have to deal with Mexico. There's a reason there's fence jumping. Mexican life sucks and there are American businesses perfectly willing to hire illegals because they are cheap and easy to control with fear. </div><div><br /></div><div>We have to take out these drug cartels. We have to examine our own drug laws. Let's face it, the war on drugs isn't working from a law enforcement standpoint and it can't work unless those fuckers are wiped the fuck out. (By the way, guess where the Al Qaeda gets it's money). We have to find a way to help Mexico get it's infrastructure and everything else in gear so that Mexicans are happy in Mexico.</div><div><br /></div><div>Remember, Canadians aren't jumping the fence to take advantage of our fabulous healthcare system. Maybe we can find a way to get Mexico working. What that is I really don't know. But there are plenty of good minds out there. Let's get to it.</div><div><br /></div><div>As to Arizona, I have no doubt that this law will be found unconstitutional and the state will bow to economic pressure (as it did when it was a hold out for Martin Luther King Day). But <a href="http://abcnews.go.com/Politics/US/tom-ridge-criticizes-arizona-immigration-bill/story?id=10499817">Texas is already talking about similar laws</a>. There's a trend here...the only way to stop the trend is to actually solve the issue. But too, changing demographics will reverse this trend.</div><div><br /></div><div>On the other hand...I don't have an issue with Mexican drug cartels taking Texas out. Maybe we can let them secede.</div><div><br /></div><div>Bottom line, I hate that Arizona has brought this nonsense on itself. I want others to love this state as I do. To appreciate it's beauty and potential. That can't happen while idiots, cowards and bigots are running things. </div><div><script type="'text/javascript'" src="'http://www.kgun9.com/global/video/videoplayer.js?rnd=" hostdomain="www.kgun9.com;playerWidth=" playerheight="240;isShowIcon=" clipid="4738159;flvUri=" partnerclipid=";adTag=" enableads="true;landingPage=" islandingpageoverride="true;playerType="></script></div><div><script type="'text/javascript'" src="'http://www.kgun9.com/global/video/videoplayer.js?rnd=" hostdomain="www.kgun9.com;playerWidth=" playerheight="240;isShowIcon=" clipid="4738159;flvUri=" partnerclipid=";adTag=" enableads="true;landingPage=" islandingpageoverride="true;playerType="></script></div>Opinionated Giftshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03803183270924780590noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-265681679905609547.post-13091417963654490762010-04-26T14:55:00.005-04:002010-04-26T15:32:54.600-04:00A musical interlude of sortsWhile I am working on a cogent blog entry on Arizona's latest misstep, I want to post this song for your listening and soulful pleasure. <div><br /></div><div>I stumbled on this song while watching an episode of the TV show Castle, from last season. I think it really covers so much about what's at the core of human behavior and suffering.</div><div><br /></div><div>Envy and fear are at the core of our anger most of the time, the core of action and inaction. </div><div><br /></div><div>I have striven for years to free myself of these particular chains, with a modicum of success. Still working on it.</div><div><br /></div><div>So I am sharing with you, my tens of readers...Enjoy.</div><div><br /></div><div>Oh..and if you are as outraged as <a href="http://lesleehorner.wordpress.com/2010/04/23/speaking-up/">Leslee</a>, I and many others are...join <a href="http://www.facebook.com/group.php?gid=116343758390557">A Million strong against praying for the President's death</a> on Facebook.</div><div><br /></div><div>And now; </div><div><object width="445" height="364"><param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/MvzINsg1PKo&hl=en_US&fs=1&color1=0x2b405b&color2=0x6b8ab6&border=1"><param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"><param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"><embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/MvzINsg1PKo&hl=en_US&fs=1&color1=0x2b405b&color2=0x6b8ab6&border=1" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" width="445" height="364"></embed></object></div><div><br /></div><div>Tomorrow I'll post about my home state of Arizona, what's wrong and what's right. </div>Opinionated Giftshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03803183270924780590noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-265681679905609547.post-22940909036470751792010-04-21T18:59:00.013-04:002010-09-19T11:16:19.940-04:00Why David Gregory Should Be On The Unemployment Line<div style="text-align: left;">The pathetic state of the press in this country has come down to this;</div><br />Outsourcing.<br /><br />That's right. <a href="http://www.politifact.com/truth-o-meter/article/2010/apr/08/politifact-fact-check-abc-this-week/">News organizations, unable to do their own work have gotten so bad at it that Sunday news shows have actually been offered the service of Fact Checking</a>.<br /><br />Now, let's set aside for a second the fact that really, when a politician is interviewed by the press that said press is informed enough on the questions they will be asking that they will not only be able to catch the politician on a half truth or out and out lie, but be able to keep that politician on their toes. They will be doing their job.<br /><br />When a politician or any figure going to an interview with the press is not nervous, is not scared is not double checking their facts before going on, the press isn't doing their job.<br /><br />I submit that when it comes to Meet The Press, politicians, especially those on the Right are likely enjoying a cocktail before their interview.<br /><br />I've written before about how Dick Cheney got hours and hours of fun filled interviews with Tim Russert in which he was not challenged at all in the build up to war in Iraq. Russert, sadly, only woke up to the bullshit well after it was too late. I remember when Hillary Clinton was running for NY Senate and Russert moderated the debates between her and then opponent Rick Lazio. Russert pounded Clinton on the Lewinsky "issue" and pretty much gave Lazio a pass on everything. I'm told Russert was a liberal. Perhaps he was overcompensating, but I digress.<br /><br />I may be a liberal but I want every politician to be fact checked, not just the Right. But mostly what I see is pretty much the opposite. The grilling is aimed at Democrats and the Left and Republicans pretty much get to say whatever the fuck they want. And twerps like Breitbart and the Fox Propaganda Machine whine about a Liberal bias in the press that I have yet to see outside of Rachel Maddow and Keith Olbermann.<br /><br />And then there's David Gregory...This guy...dancing while Karl Rove is serenaded by a tuxedoed white rap artist who has probably never gotten closer to the inner city than his cleaning lady. Stuff like this makes me think of Max Von Sydow's line in "Hannah and Her Sisters"; If Jesus were alive today, he'd never stop throwing up.<br /><object width="445" height="364"><param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/hYZre8kEsuw?fs=1&hl=en_US&color1=0x006699&color2=0x54abd6&border=1"></param><param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"></param><param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"></param><embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/hYZre8kEsuw?fs=1&hl=en_US&color1=0x006699&color2=0x54abd6&border=1" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" width="445" height="364"></embed></object>The picture is fuzzy, but that's Gregory behind the rapper, thumbs up, bottom lip bitten.<br /><br />OK...back to my original point (in my own roundabout way). I used to be addicted to the Sunday morning news shows. Face The Nation, This Week (way back with David Brinkley, then of George Stephanopolos, now Jake Tapper and eventually Christiane Amenpour) and of course Meet The Press, the longest running TV show in history, let alone the longest running news show.<br /><br />When I started watching these shows, it was anchored by a reporter named <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Garrick_Utley">Garrick Utley</a> a very serious news man with pretty decent credentials. When I was a kid, I remember this show being an even more challenging (if boring to a child) place. The subject, be they politician, activist, celebrity etc, faced a panel of about 4 or 5 journalists. Those journalists ranged in the political spectrum from right to left and asked whatever question they saw fit.<br /><br />I guess to save money, NBC began to pair it down...then the started a round table set so that every one was sitting at the same table all chummy and inside club like.<br /><br />Utley retired and he was replaced by Tim Russert, an amiable man with a zealous love of The Buffalo Bills and a background in politics but not much background in journalism so far as I can tell. This only reinforced the "insider" game. He was chummy and palsy with politicians because, well, there were his chums and pals. And it became Meet The Press with Tim Russert, or essentially The Tim Russert Show. And so the chumminess increased.<br /><br />Oh sure, he'd get a gotcha in every now and then but mostly he would be the only questioner and his questions, increasingly, became unimportant (i.e. fixating on Monica Lewinsky as opposed to say...healthcare).<br /><br />Now, lest I be attacked for speaking ill of the dead, as I said earlier when he passed, Russert seems to have been a genuinely nice guy and was clearly loved. But the quality and standards of Meet The Press were reduced under his reign. That's just the way it is. And his untimely death resulted in it getting even worse.<br /><br />David Gregory strikes me as the kind of guy who reads a little on a subject, makes a list of 5 questions to ask his subject and never veers off course...which of course allows his subject to get away with utter nonsense.<br /><br />Months ago when he had Dick Armey and Rachel Maddow on the show, he let Rachel do his job for him by exposing Armey's corporate funding for the so called grass roots movement known as the tea party. Gregory sat there, his thumbs up his ass, while Rachel actually earned her paycheck.<br /><br />That was the last Meet The Press I watched. I stopped watching This Week when it became clear that I was expected to take Michelle Malkin and Elizabeth Cheney seriously.<br /><br />But now Politifact has stepped in and some have responded well. This Week has decided to use it. ABC is clearly looking to upgrade it's News Division with the hire of Christiane Amenpour and now they've gone further by perhaps deciding to hold facts up as an important part of political discourse.<br /><br />David Gregory however, doesn't think it's his job and declined. Furthermore he said his audience could do it for themselves. <a href="http://jayrosen.posterous.com/david-gregory-no-i-wont-fact-check-my-guests">Here Jay Rosen blogs with quotes from Gregory. </a><br /><br />I don't find this surprising. The facts would not be helpful to Gregory, whom I suspect has an agenda. He's not a journalist. He's not even trying. He should be unemployed.<br /><br />Read Joe Gandelman's excellent blog on the subject <a href="http://themoderatevoice.com/69791/nbcs-david-gregorys-mistake-declining-post-meet-the-press-interview-fact-check-call/">here</a>.<br /><br />If you're as annoyed as I am, look up this <a href="http://www.facebook.com/meetthefacts?v=wall">Facebook page</a> as well and "Like" it.<br /><br />The Press should not be an inside game. David Gregory wants to keep dancing with Karl Rove and he wants us to shut up about it. Maybe we can get <span style="font-weight:bold;">him</span> to shut up.Opinionated Giftshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03803183270924780590noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-265681679905609547.post-67957696024626519292010-04-18T10:59:00.012-04:002010-04-18T16:02:54.532-04:00The Ash Kicking Our AssIn late August of 1883 the volcano at <a href="http://www.geology.sdsu.edu/how_volcanoes_work/Krakatau.html">Krakatau</a> (many know it as Krakatoa, but it's pronounced "ow" not "ohah") erupted. The eruption was so fierce and so powerful that the skies in London were red for days from ash in the upper atmosphere. The volcano itself essentially melted into the sea. It has since grown back. <br />Telegraph gave the news of the eruption but it was slow reaching. There was some panic, some fear in the areas that saw only a red sky. Understandable.<br /><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div>Last week a volcano erupted (called Eyjafjallajokull and no I am not going to try and pronounce it) in Iceland (in case you've been hiding under volcanic rock for the last 10 days) and a different form of chaos has ensued. Flights delayed and canceled because the ash is so thick and so strong that it is blocking the ability for jets to fly safely. Military operations are slowed or cancelled for the same reason.</div><div><br /></div><div>Looking at these photos it is not hard to imagine a less educated and more primitive society predicting the end of the world, apocalypse, etc. In the last few months there have been earthquakes and tsunamis all over the place. I have to admit, even I sit here thinking what the fuck is going on. </div><br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_Q7RnW1lYHjU/S8shi5uNFoI/AAAAAAAAAAM/_z5kmbWCSEU/s1600/ejafjalla16apr2010-mfulle4145j.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 213px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_Q7RnW1lYHjU/S8shi5uNFoI/AAAAAAAAAAM/_z5kmbWCSEU/s320/ejafjalla16apr2010-mfulle4145j.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5461495856610743938" /></a><br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_Q7RnW1lYHjU/S8shx_csSFI/AAAAAAAAAAU/mDlprnzdZi0/s1600/ejafjalla16apr2010-mfulle4159j.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 213px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_Q7RnW1lYHjU/S8shx_csSFI/AAAAAAAAAAU/mDlprnzdZi0/s320/ejafjalla16apr2010-mfulle4159j.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5461496115845941330" /></a><br /><br />(I took these pictures from the following site http://www.swisseduc.ch/stromboli/perm/iceland/eyafallajokull_20100416-en.html but that site seems to be blocked now. A shame. It's possible I might get in trouble for having them?)<br /><br />It's very easy to start thinking of God's vengeance, as Rush Limbaugh and Pat Robertson and that ilk start spewing. Even in this day and age. The weak and small minded use it to shore up their superstitions, their power-structures.<br /><br /> <br /><br />Unless you're one of those geniuses that believes the earth is 6,000 years old and that man used Tyrannosaurus Rex to pull his plow etc, we know that the earth is astoundingly old and we know that our time as human beings on this earth is a relatively tiny amount. <br /><br />As much as I argue with creationists and anti global warming deniers on the right, I also argue with "tree huggers" on the left. Not because I'm not a tree hugger (because I am), but because I've always had a problem with the "Save The Earth" argument.<br /><br />The Earth, my friends and loved ones, will be just fine. It's us that needs the saving. We're the ones that will be wiped out when weather makes things inhabitable. We're the ones that will die of radiation poisoning if some idiot decides to follow suit on blowing up a nuclear bomb.<br /><br />The Earth, she will adapt. The forms may change, may mutate, but they will push through.<br /><br />When you walk down a paved street and there's a crack in the pavement, in a short amount of time, there's a weed or a tree popping up. Here in New York, when a building gets torn down and an empty lot is left...a lot of brick and dirt and mortar, nothing more, mind you. The next year, that lot is filled with grass, small trees, etc. In two years you have a forest. The Earth always finds a way, Life always finds a way to exist. It doesn't need to be human.<br /><br />I do have some belief in a higher power, but it isn't the God people go to church to worship and/or fear. I believe that there is power greater than humankind, and if the volcanic eruption and the ensuing disruption to our lives isn't a clear demonstration of that power, whatever it's source, I don't know what is. I call that power Life. I don't know if it's mystical or accidental or what. I'm just pretty sure it is what it is and it will do what it will do whether we like it or not.<br /><br />We are nothing.<br /><br />We are a brief and tiny species in a far far greater tapestry that may or may not be "God's plan", but is certainly something larger than we seem to be able to accept or comprehend. <br /><br />We ain't all that. We need to get over ourselves. We need to take care of ourselves and each other. We need to stand (or sit) in awe of Life and be humble in our actions. Our advanced form of travel is brought low before a single action by the planet we inhabit. <br /><br />God's not angry folks. The Earth is just doing what it does. Living. We're just lucky enough to be here while it does.Opinionated Giftshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03803183270924780590noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-265681679905609547.post-56953626127626392902010-04-11T10:27:00.005-04:002010-04-12T00:06:54.344-04:00My trip to Dixieland (sorry)About a year or so after my ex and I separated I did what any frustrated, lonely divorced man in his early 30s would do, fly across the country to meet a woman I met online. Notice the word sane is nowhere in the previous sentence. <div><br /></div><div>I was new to the internet and the chat world had completely hypnotized me. Also, I needed to get out of town and see a bunch of old friends. <div><br /></div><div>So off I went for about ten days to Los Angeles. I'd arranged to stay with a friend who lived in <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Los_Feliz,_Los_Angeles,_California">Los Feliz</a> while this internet woman and I planned out our time.</div><div><br /></div><div>Those particular plans were dashed within 45 minutes of my arriving. But that's perhaps another blog. </div><div><br /></div><div>I spent my 10 days hanging with friends and mostly catching up with my friend, Tess, at her apartment. </div><div><br /></div><div>Tess was/is a costume designer and at the time was working in Names, a play that posed a hypothetical scene between <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Stella_Adler">Elia Kazan</a> and other members of the Group Theater, the night before Kazan named names at the <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/House_Un-American_Activities_Committee">HUAC</a>. The role of <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Stella_Adler">Stella Adler</a> was played by <a href="http://www.imdb.com/name/nm0141581/">Dixie Carter</a>.</div><div><br /></div><div>The production had developed a tradition Tess told me. On weekends, between matinee and evening performance, the cast and crew of the show was invited to Dixie and Hal's "house" for dinner. Tess said "Come to the matinee, you'll be invited, trust me".</div><div><br /></div><div>Now I wasn't going to say no, but I felt sheepish about the idea of getting a free lunch at someone's house whom I didn't even know. Seemed a bit classless to me, but Tess told me not to worry about it.</div><div><br /></div><div>I was not a big Dixie fan. Don't get me wrong, I didn't dislike her, but I only knew her from Designing Women, a sitcom I liked but only watched now and then. I had been a big fan of her husband, <a href="http://www.imdb.com/name/nm0001358/">Hal Holbrook</a> for many years. </div><div><br /></div><div>Anyway, I saw the show and became a Dixie fan almost instantly. Her portrayal of Stella Adler (whom I'd also met at one time though briefly) was spot on and very moving. And her presence was undeniable. </div><div><br /></div><div>After the show I had every intention of politely getting on a bus back to Los Feliz. It just felt too rude to me to do otherwise. But I did got backstage to talk to Tess. Tess introduced me to the cast bit by bit which of course included Ms. Carter. Tess told her I was an actor friend from college visiting from New York etc. and Ms. Carter asked how I liked the show.</div><div><br /></div><div>I told her pretty much what I said here, and asked if she had known Stella Adler. She hadn't. I became a bigger fan as I said "Well, that just makes your performance even more amazing." She smiled and then put her hand on my shoulder and said "You're coming over for dinner, aren't you?" </div><div><br /></div><div>There was a certain sternness and elegance in this question. Later I learned that Tess had already told Ms. Carter about me and had even said "he's probably going to leave first as he's kind of shy". So it seems she was being somewhat proactive..and terribly kind. It was obvious that she adored Tess. I was just lucky enough to be a friend of hers.</div><div><br /></div><div>20 minutes later I'm at the mansion, being introduced to Hal Holbrook, and their chef who had made a delicious meal of spaghetti and meatballs and garlic bread. 20 some odd people walking around the yard, the beautiful pool and land.</div><div><br /></div><div>I sat by Hal Holbrook and listened to him tell the story of how he couldn't mount this horse on one of the westerns he had done.</div><div><br /></div><div>I have pictures of this day, but apparently they are in storage. One is a very nice pic of Dixie with her chef and another of Hal telling this story. </div><div><br /></div><div>There's a lot I remember and a lot I've forgotten. A-it's a long time ago and B-I was rather ossified by the circumstances. </div><div><br /></div><div>Dixie Carter was classy, full of grace and elegance. Hal was more down homey in his feel, but just as full of grace and his own elegance. They seemed quite the couple. </div><div><br /></div><div>My fandom of Holbrook was fortified by meeting him, my fandom of Carter almost created from scratch that very day.</div><div><br /></div><div>I never saw either again after that afternoon but I always remember that day as one of my life favorites.</div><div><br /></div><div>It's very sad to think of the world without Dixie Carter in it. One less note of class on the planet.</div><div><br /></div><div>My thoughts and sympathies to Mr. Holbrook and the family.</div><div><br /></div><div>Rest In Peace.</div></div>Opinionated Giftshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03803183270924780590noreply@blogger.com2