Again we enter the climax of another election season. And, yet again, I stay entirely apolitical about it. I have to. There's no way I can take sides in it...partially because I have no belief in either of them and partially because, well, I DON'T KNOW EXACTLY WHAT THEY STAND FOR!
Let's think back to 1984...the last election I vividly remember (well, I vaguely remember 1980, but all I remember is Reagan delivering a beating most men couldn't withstand, and Carter withstood nothing). No, 1984 was easy: Reagan stood for Republican American commie-fighting goodness while Mondale stood for evil taxation...and Reagan delivered another solid beating.
1988: Reagan's quiet veep vs. a tank-riding weenie. I think we all foresaw 4 great years of Saturday Night Live with Dana Carvey as Bush...nuff said.
1992: Bush vs. Clinton vs (at times) Perot. Frankly, I was prepared to vote for Perot until he dropped out unexpectedly. Carvey was leaving SNL soon, and by 1992 the comedy was long over.
1996: Clinton vs. well, a major Republican jackhole. Clinton was doing well, it was a solid decision.
2000: I'm still troubled by this one. I feel that we'd be in a different place if Gore (who I voted for) had been declared winner. It'd be nice to imagine no 9/11, but that's no certainty It'd be nice to imagine the economic prosperity would have continued a bit longer. OK...I'll move on before sounding too much like John Lennon.
2004: OK, I'll admit it, I voted for Kerry, and that may have been a mistake. I just knew I didn't want 4 more years of Cliff Barnes in office, but that's what we got anyway. I thinik this is when I felt things were murky: evil or a lesser evil. I thought I chose a lesser evil and I'm not sure that was the case (and we never will)
2008: Murkier now: in many ways a repeat of 1988, but now it was a choice of a continuation of politics we didn't like or the tank-driving weenie. For some reason I chose the guy in the tank (Otis the Drunk from Andy Griffith would have been the better tank guy choice, though).
And now we come to 2012 and I don't know what to think. Today I went to get the mail and we were bombarded with political ads, and they often canceled each other out. Example: we have Shelley Berekely running for dog catcher...that or Senator from Nevada, there's not much difference. One ad shows her in a positive, take-charge stance and the anti-Berkeley ad makes her look like a werewolf with hemmerhoids! It's the bad marketing that clouds what these people are REALLY about.
I mean, I could see myself running for office, say, Galactic Overlord in charge of Velcro distribution. All of the positive ads would have me standing proud, looking straight at the camera with a smile and Burger King Whopper juice dripping down my chin to show my patriotism, and the negative ad would be some shot of me that my daughter Natalie took of me while I was sitting on the crapper, making me out to be an agent of the Dark Side...with hemmerhoids! I could have shown the universe that Velcro is the glue that binds us and the galaxy together, but the shot of me "concentrating" would cloud my whole campaign.
So, tomorrow (or today which is the most likely), when you vote, try to look past all the ads, marketing and other gimmicks that cloud the issues...and get me and Berkeley some Preparation H if you're at the store!
Monday, November 5, 2012
Friday, August 10, 2012
Music Does Rescue
Thinking of the past...the DEEP past, recently. Not obsessively, of course, like my dream for old Hollywood Squares shows or EDGE OF NIGHT episodes to come on DVD. Someitmes I just lay in bed in the morning at peace and I think of the "good old days", whatever that means. For me, the good old days mean something completely different....they mean a time when I was relatively at peace with myself, liking me for me without giving a damn about anyone else's opinions. OK, fine, there was never REALLY a time like that, but of late I've been going through a change and with any change there's a thinking back period. The time: 1995, a year of true change for me. While there was a lot of unpleasantness then, the one thing that kept me going was...music!
Luckily for me, the music I refer to was not 90s crap. I don't think ANY of it was inspring, calming, or even angering for reaction sake. No, back then I was really into older material, generally 60s and 70s pop and rock. I made an audio tape long ago chronicling that peculiar year, and I don't know what happened to it to this day.
Early in the year, during the holiday break between semesters, I'd bought a tape of pop songs released between 1970-74. My favorite song on it was "Diamond Girl"...it made me look forward to coming back to school to see a certain someone again. Life at home was pretty tense between my parents and I couldn't wait to escape. That tape was played twice on my drive back to school in late January. Of course, there were other good songs on the tape: Mr. Bojangles, Midnight Train to Georgia, Venus, and You're So Vain, among others.
Two months later, I got the call that really changed my life...the call from my mom that she was divorcing my dad. I was torn apart by this, of course. As time went on, I was forced to as well. I continued to listen to oldies and classic rock. One night, Oscar night, in fact, I was working on a paper and had "American Graffiti" playing in the background. I'd never seen it before and was just loving the doo wop music that apparently George Lucas grew up on. That summer, I bought the soundtrack, along with some Rascals CD. I was also listening a lot to The Doors album "Waiting for the Sun", newly acquired the previous Christmas and first listened to on the drive back home for the summer...home, what did that mean anymore? Nothing. It was a concept split between a bed slept on for almost 20 years and a futon bed my mom got just for me when I visited. No, home was no longer San Diego. It wasn't really PA anymore, either. Although I was still entrenched in dorm life, I loved northern California more than anything else at this point, and was already growing anxious to return. The girl I liked that semester, well, I still liked, but there was tension there and there was someone else from my classes that I'd found interest in (ah, college!)
Well, an oldies/classic rock summer got me through what silence would have devastated: edge of sanity. Living with a newly divorced dad who felt guilty about dating, along with a pregnant sister and her toddler firstborn, and spending part-time with a newly-free and happy for the first time I could remember mom, was bizarre and quite troubling. Having a job helped, but hell was hell.
Coming back to school in August, I'd found a new interest in old Doobie Brothers music, particularly "Black Water". I felt free at first...then I met the 4th roommate that was to complete the roommate situation at school with Rob, Scott and myself...a guy named Ed. A new hell was emerging, but it wasn't really mine, it was his! Rob and Scott were good guys (and still are) and I didn't like subjecting them to my new anger at the state of my life. Yes, once I left the 2 nests, I felt ok to be angry about it all. Unfortunately, the stranger named Ed was the target of my anger and, later, some cruel pranks at his expense. Incidentally I feel bad about what I did now, but I feel no guilt about my feelings then. Around this time, The Beatles and The Yardbirds were finding my ears. Also, more Doors with "Soft Parade" and "Morrison Hotel". I listened to those albums coming home for Christmas in late 1995.
Early 1996 was much of the same, but the music discovery was dying down a bit. Emerson Lake and Palmer and America were ringing in my ears as well, but I had all the music I wanted for a while...also, Scott was subscribing to Time Life's Guitar Rock, so I was in music heaven while personal hell was just under the surface...and I mean just.
Now, 17 year later, I guess I've grown somewhat bored with the old music...I find myself skipping those songs on the iPod often. They don't hold the relevancy they once did, or maybe I just don't want to delve into that past much. Who would? 22 was a hellish year for me...and now I'm seeing 40 in 3 months. Only Paul Lynde holds the answers now, LOL!
Luckily for me, the music I refer to was not 90s crap. I don't think ANY of it was inspring, calming, or even angering for reaction sake. No, back then I was really into older material, generally 60s and 70s pop and rock. I made an audio tape long ago chronicling that peculiar year, and I don't know what happened to it to this day.
Early in the year, during the holiday break between semesters, I'd bought a tape of pop songs released between 1970-74. My favorite song on it was "Diamond Girl"...it made me look forward to coming back to school to see a certain someone again. Life at home was pretty tense between my parents and I couldn't wait to escape. That tape was played twice on my drive back to school in late January. Of course, there were other good songs on the tape: Mr. Bojangles, Midnight Train to Georgia, Venus, and You're So Vain, among others.
Two months later, I got the call that really changed my life...the call from my mom that she was divorcing my dad. I was torn apart by this, of course. As time went on, I was forced to as well. I continued to listen to oldies and classic rock. One night, Oscar night, in fact, I was working on a paper and had "American Graffiti" playing in the background. I'd never seen it before and was just loving the doo wop music that apparently George Lucas grew up on. That summer, I bought the soundtrack, along with some Rascals CD. I was also listening a lot to The Doors album "Waiting for the Sun", newly acquired the previous Christmas and first listened to on the drive back home for the summer...home, what did that mean anymore? Nothing. It was a concept split between a bed slept on for almost 20 years and a futon bed my mom got just for me when I visited. No, home was no longer San Diego. It wasn't really PA anymore, either. Although I was still entrenched in dorm life, I loved northern California more than anything else at this point, and was already growing anxious to return. The girl I liked that semester, well, I still liked, but there was tension there and there was someone else from my classes that I'd found interest in (ah, college!)
Well, an oldies/classic rock summer got me through what silence would have devastated: edge of sanity. Living with a newly divorced dad who felt guilty about dating, along with a pregnant sister and her toddler firstborn, and spending part-time with a newly-free and happy for the first time I could remember mom, was bizarre and quite troubling. Having a job helped, but hell was hell.
Coming back to school in August, I'd found a new interest in old Doobie Brothers music, particularly "Black Water". I felt free at first...then I met the 4th roommate that was to complete the roommate situation at school with Rob, Scott and myself...a guy named Ed. A new hell was emerging, but it wasn't really mine, it was his! Rob and Scott were good guys (and still are) and I didn't like subjecting them to my new anger at the state of my life. Yes, once I left the 2 nests, I felt ok to be angry about it all. Unfortunately, the stranger named Ed was the target of my anger and, later, some cruel pranks at his expense. Incidentally I feel bad about what I did now, but I feel no guilt about my feelings then. Around this time, The Beatles and The Yardbirds were finding my ears. Also, more Doors with "Soft Parade" and "Morrison Hotel". I listened to those albums coming home for Christmas in late 1995.
Early 1996 was much of the same, but the music discovery was dying down a bit. Emerson Lake and Palmer and America were ringing in my ears as well, but I had all the music I wanted for a while...also, Scott was subscribing to Time Life's Guitar Rock, so I was in music heaven while personal hell was just under the surface...and I mean just.
Now, 17 year later, I guess I've grown somewhat bored with the old music...I find myself skipping those songs on the iPod often. They don't hold the relevancy they once did, or maybe I just don't want to delve into that past much. Who would? 22 was a hellish year for me...and now I'm seeing 40 in 3 months. Only Paul Lynde holds the answers now, LOL!
Saturday, August 4, 2012
Whose birthday is it anyway???
An easy question to answer: if there is a birthday party for my daughter, who is the center of attention? Well, apparently it's my sister-in-law and her uninvited guest. Well, at least that was the case at my daughter's 3rd birthday party.
Let me step back a moment...rather, let me step back 35 years. The earliest birthday I can remember anymore is my 5th. We had our neighbors and friends the Kirkners over for dinner and birthday cake. I opened presents, and the focus was definitely on me. I don't mean to sound egotistical about this, like I was trying to steal the show, but the purpose was always clear that they were there to celebrate my day.
A year later, I had a much bigger party. The Kirkner kids were there, along with other kids on the street. I also had kids from my kindergarten class there. We had lunch, opened presents, and played games. It was fun! At least it looked fun from the pictures and home movies. The adults provided food, entertainment...and were supervising. It sounds strange to say that last part, but I'll get to that in a bit.
My next major party was my 9th. Once again it was kids in the 'hood and classmates. We went bowling and had hot dogs at the alley party room. Two years later it was Chuck-E-Cheese, a short-lived experiment at the Berkshire Mall. Same thing: we opened presents, then went to eat and have fun! My next (and last) party as a kid was when I turned 15. I had some guys over for a sleepover. We had pizza, cake, watched some movies (including one porn, I am not ashamed to say from a teen's point of view).
The running theme throughout all of these parties was that they were kid-oriented although adults were clearly in charge and supervising (but not hovering). It was the same when my sister had a birthday party. The only difference was that she wasn't trying to crash my parties...I just crashed hers like an annoying little brother was supposed to do.
Over the years, I know parties have changed. Sometimes there are themes (like a superhero or princess), sometimes a clown, balloon artist, or face painter is hired. There are sometimes also rented bouncers. I get that. The level of entertainment has increased somewhat with a lot of people. However, there are two things that should not go away: the kid-centered aspect and the parental supervision.
Since meeting my wife (actually, we met BEFORE getting married, a rarity in Vegas, I know), I have been exposed, many times, to a different sort of party. In this type of party, a very select group of adults are invited and they bring their kids if they have any. The men go to the garage, the women sit and text and talk about whom they have texted with (often a person sitting two feet away), and the kids are off riding bikes, playing video games, or sitting zoned off in front of the TV. Occasionally an adult will scream at their kid to ask what they are doing, just to practice parenting. The focus is not on the child, but rather on adults. At some point, gifts are opened and cake is eaten, but those are the only two times everyone is together, and it is less than 5 minutes of unity in total.
I'm not comfy with these parties. I generally don't hang around with the guys because all they talk about is what they did to make their car look cooler (not move better, strangely) and drink beer. I dig the beer aspect, but I'm a geek and could give a rat's ass about the cosmetic surgery.I don't want to hang around the women because I have an ancient form of practiced communication: I find common ground and TALK about that common ground. These women are all mostly tattooed, pierced, generally devoid of wordly usefulness. So, often my wife and I sit ignored. Why were invited (oh yeah, we're family) is beyond me. If we're not included, don't invite, we'll send a card later.
Then we come to my daughter's recent party. Granted, there were more adults because living in an apartment complex makes it hard to find kids Natalie's age. I sat with some of the invited guests to share recent life experiences and ask how they are doing with genuine interest. Then, some family arrives like expected and provide pizza. Then, more family arrives...with add-ons! Natalie plays with the kids as well as she can keep up. However, one family member and her friend gab on and progressively force everyone to hear them through sheer volume. A lot of times, the talk is not kid-friendly. At the end, we are left with two invited guests for Natalie to impress until she is wiped out then us adults continue talking pleasantly. I liked this part of the evening.
Am I old-fashioned? Maybe so, but I know the basics of a proper party for kids and lately I haven't seen one. Probably the last one was our goddaughter's party at a roller rink before she moved away. To conclude, keep it kid-centered, friendly, and together.
Let me step back a moment...rather, let me step back 35 years. The earliest birthday I can remember anymore is my 5th. We had our neighbors and friends the Kirkners over for dinner and birthday cake. I opened presents, and the focus was definitely on me. I don't mean to sound egotistical about this, like I was trying to steal the show, but the purpose was always clear that they were there to celebrate my day.
A year later, I had a much bigger party. The Kirkner kids were there, along with other kids on the street. I also had kids from my kindergarten class there. We had lunch, opened presents, and played games. It was fun! At least it looked fun from the pictures and home movies. The adults provided food, entertainment...and were supervising. It sounds strange to say that last part, but I'll get to that in a bit.
My next major party was my 9th. Once again it was kids in the 'hood and classmates. We went bowling and had hot dogs at the alley party room. Two years later it was Chuck-E-Cheese, a short-lived experiment at the Berkshire Mall. Same thing: we opened presents, then went to eat and have fun! My next (and last) party as a kid was when I turned 15. I had some guys over for a sleepover. We had pizza, cake, watched some movies (including one porn, I am not ashamed to say from a teen's point of view).
The running theme throughout all of these parties was that they were kid-oriented although adults were clearly in charge and supervising (but not hovering). It was the same when my sister had a birthday party. The only difference was that she wasn't trying to crash my parties...I just crashed hers like an annoying little brother was supposed to do.
Over the years, I know parties have changed. Sometimes there are themes (like a superhero or princess), sometimes a clown, balloon artist, or face painter is hired. There are sometimes also rented bouncers. I get that. The level of entertainment has increased somewhat with a lot of people. However, there are two things that should not go away: the kid-centered aspect and the parental supervision.
Since meeting my wife (actually, we met BEFORE getting married, a rarity in Vegas, I know), I have been exposed, many times, to a different sort of party. In this type of party, a very select group of adults are invited and they bring their kids if they have any. The men go to the garage, the women sit and text and talk about whom they have texted with (often a person sitting two feet away), and the kids are off riding bikes, playing video games, or sitting zoned off in front of the TV. Occasionally an adult will scream at their kid to ask what they are doing, just to practice parenting. The focus is not on the child, but rather on adults. At some point, gifts are opened and cake is eaten, but those are the only two times everyone is together, and it is less than 5 minutes of unity in total.
I'm not comfy with these parties. I generally don't hang around with the guys because all they talk about is what they did to make their car look cooler (not move better, strangely) and drink beer. I dig the beer aspect, but I'm a geek and could give a rat's ass about the cosmetic surgery.I don't want to hang around the women because I have an ancient form of practiced communication: I find common ground and TALK about that common ground. These women are all mostly tattooed, pierced, generally devoid of wordly usefulness. So, often my wife and I sit ignored. Why were invited (oh yeah, we're family) is beyond me. If we're not included, don't invite, we'll send a card later.
Then we come to my daughter's recent party. Granted, there were more adults because living in an apartment complex makes it hard to find kids Natalie's age. I sat with some of the invited guests to share recent life experiences and ask how they are doing with genuine interest. Then, some family arrives like expected and provide pizza. Then, more family arrives...with add-ons! Natalie plays with the kids as well as she can keep up. However, one family member and her friend gab on and progressively force everyone to hear them through sheer volume. A lot of times, the talk is not kid-friendly. At the end, we are left with two invited guests for Natalie to impress until she is wiped out then us adults continue talking pleasantly. I liked this part of the evening.
Am I old-fashioned? Maybe so, but I know the basics of a proper party for kids and lately I haven't seen one. Probably the last one was our goddaughter's party at a roller rink before she moved away. To conclude, keep it kid-centered, friendly, and together.
Monday, July 2, 2012
Batman's Temp
We've all been in that situation . You know, when you get an official court document that says you've been selected for jury duty. Yes, it's an opportunity to mix with other alien races, kind of like at the DMV, Social Security office, or the outlet center. These places should have the "Cantina Band" song from Star Wars playing over and over again. In fact, I think I've SEEN the actual alien band playing at the outlets near the carousel.
So, you're employed and need to let your boss know. Your boss is obviously happy to let you go for a day...NOT! Your boss needs you...not that the reverse is also true. However, your boss is a person short for a day and needs to deal with it...unless you're a teacher like me. In that case, I need to call a temporary worker, or, in the land of educational hell, this is known as a substitute. I used to be one, so I know. In fact, I spent 5 years after graduating college both as a temp for an agency and as a substitute teacher.
As in life, those 5 years had mixed results. There were some temp jobs that were easy money and fairly fun. The best one I can remember was filling orders for a scrip company. I got to meet some nice people to talk to during the work day and there was a decent cafeteria nearby. The rest were, well, jobs. One of them required a 40 mile round trip drive, and after a full day on my feet, I was tired. Then came the years of substitute teaching that were intermixed with the temp jobs. This was in Sonoma County, California where there were several school districts that needed subs. I had successful relationships with some districts and as a result I got regular work once I was established. However, there were the "hell" classrooms that seemed to lure me from time to time and there were some teachers that did not like my style (meaning I didn't read between the lines of their lesson plans or I did...some were impossible to please). As a teacher who has needed to call for a sub many times over, especially during my wife's pregnancy, I've learned to be pretty understanding...meaning I have literally scripted my sub plans for each minute, because we all know how nice kids are for subs, right? (loud chants of BS emanate!)
Emergency Alert! Alfred the butler is summoned to jury duty. Now, millionaire Bruce Wayne can obviously use his influence to get him off, right? NO! His alter ego Batman believes in civic duty. However, there is a problem: who is to tend to the Batcomputer and dust off all of the machinery if Alfred is not there? Yes, Batman calls up Gotham Day Workers. Shortly after Alfred leaves, there is a call from Stu, a 25-year old recent graduate from Gotham Community College with an associate's degree in music appreciation. He can just come to the Batcave, right? No! The location is a secret, so Batman has ROBIN dust while he drives to pick up Stu in the Batmobile, gives him a whiff of the Batgas (source of which is rumored to be the effects of Batcookies and Batmilk from Batman's visit with the Scooby gang), then brings him to the Batcave. Batman must then give Stu the required orientation (meaning, he gives Stu the dustmop and Pledge). Stu starts work while Batman and Robin go back up the Batpole, assumably in the Batshaft.
Stu minds his own business, right, like any good temp does? NO! Like any common temp worker, he sniffs around the place trying to familiarize himself with his surroundings, hoping to land a permanent position. He also has larger priorities on his mind, such as his break and lunch times. He constantly gets on the phone to Commissioner Gordon (since it's the only phone in the cave he can see) asking several questions. Gordon calls to complain to Batman only to get Stu, so a communication gap has occurred. Finally Stu locates the other phone and wonders why there's a line to Wayne Manor, where he temped as a bartender last month. Luckily, Stu is an average temp who never knew how to add clues, or numbers for that matter, which is why the associate's degree was a major award for him!
After about two hours, the red phone goes off, and Stu answers.
"Hello?"
"Look Stu, is Batman or Robin there?"
"Uh, no. They said something about fishing."
"Dear God! The Riddler just escaped from jail."
"I like riddles."
(Bruce picks up the other extension) "Hang up, Stu!"
"Please would be nice."
"Get off NOW!"
"I'm calling the agency. I don't need this-" Stu is knocked out by the Bat-a-rang, taken home on the way to police headquarters. Luckily, Alfted's knowledge of all criminal matters made him ineligible for any jury in Gotham City, so his service was done quickly and permanently.
Now, this was an extreme example, and most superheroes are not millionaires with butlers. However, I can gladly say that my temp days are behind me...for now (who knows what the older years will bring for me). If anyone needs a scrip order filled, I hear Stu is available.
So, you're employed and need to let your boss know. Your boss is obviously happy to let you go for a day...NOT! Your boss needs you...not that the reverse is also true. However, your boss is a person short for a day and needs to deal with it...unless you're a teacher like me. In that case, I need to call a temporary worker, or, in the land of educational hell, this is known as a substitute. I used to be one, so I know. In fact, I spent 5 years after graduating college both as a temp for an agency and as a substitute teacher.
As in life, those 5 years had mixed results. There were some temp jobs that were easy money and fairly fun. The best one I can remember was filling orders for a scrip company. I got to meet some nice people to talk to during the work day and there was a decent cafeteria nearby. The rest were, well, jobs. One of them required a 40 mile round trip drive, and after a full day on my feet, I was tired. Then came the years of substitute teaching that were intermixed with the temp jobs. This was in Sonoma County, California where there were several school districts that needed subs. I had successful relationships with some districts and as a result I got regular work once I was established. However, there were the "hell" classrooms that seemed to lure me from time to time and there were some teachers that did not like my style (meaning I didn't read between the lines of their lesson plans or I did...some were impossible to please). As a teacher who has needed to call for a sub many times over, especially during my wife's pregnancy, I've learned to be pretty understanding...meaning I have literally scripted my sub plans for each minute, because we all know how nice kids are for subs, right? (loud chants of BS emanate!)
Emergency Alert! Alfred the butler is summoned to jury duty. Now, millionaire Bruce Wayne can obviously use his influence to get him off, right? NO! His alter ego Batman believes in civic duty. However, there is a problem: who is to tend to the Batcomputer and dust off all of the machinery if Alfred is not there? Yes, Batman calls up Gotham Day Workers. Shortly after Alfred leaves, there is a call from Stu, a 25-year old recent graduate from Gotham Community College with an associate's degree in music appreciation. He can just come to the Batcave, right? No! The location is a secret, so Batman has ROBIN dust while he drives to pick up Stu in the Batmobile, gives him a whiff of the Batgas (source of which is rumored to be the effects of Batcookies and Batmilk from Batman's visit with the Scooby gang), then brings him to the Batcave. Batman must then give Stu the required orientation (meaning, he gives Stu the dustmop and Pledge). Stu starts work while Batman and Robin go back up the Batpole, assumably in the Batshaft.
Stu minds his own business, right, like any good temp does? NO! Like any common temp worker, he sniffs around the place trying to familiarize himself with his surroundings, hoping to land a permanent position. He also has larger priorities on his mind, such as his break and lunch times. He constantly gets on the phone to Commissioner Gordon (since it's the only phone in the cave he can see) asking several questions. Gordon calls to complain to Batman only to get Stu, so a communication gap has occurred. Finally Stu locates the other phone and wonders why there's a line to Wayne Manor, where he temped as a bartender last month. Luckily, Stu is an average temp who never knew how to add clues, or numbers for that matter, which is why the associate's degree was a major award for him!
After about two hours, the red phone goes off, and Stu answers.
"Hello?"
"Look Stu, is Batman or Robin there?"
"Uh, no. They said something about fishing."
"Dear God! The Riddler just escaped from jail."
"I like riddles."
(Bruce picks up the other extension) "Hang up, Stu!"
"Please would be nice."
"Get off NOW!"
"I'm calling the agency. I don't need this-" Stu is knocked out by the Bat-a-rang, taken home on the way to police headquarters. Luckily, Alfted's knowledge of all criminal matters made him ineligible for any jury in Gotham City, so his service was done quickly and permanently.
Now, this was an extreme example, and most superheroes are not millionaires with butlers. However, I can gladly say that my temp days are behind me...for now (who knows what the older years will bring for me). If anyone needs a scrip order filled, I hear Stu is available.
Sunday, July 1, 2012
A Possibly Treasonous, Yet Reasonable, Proposal
Imagine being a manager at McDonald's. You have the unfortunate task of seeing which illiterate applicant will cause the least damage behind the counter either money or fire-on-the-grill-wise. You interview several people, none of whom seem to be able to tell the difference between fries and a cherry pie. Also, a few of these people applied so they could work with their friends who somehow managed to get a job there. Finally, you come to the last applicant and have a wonderful surprise: she can read, has had previous customer service experience, and comes recommended from a previous employer. This is the person you hire.
Note the procedure: the manager goes through SEVERAL people before finding the right person for the job. He didn't select someone based on an employee's recommendation("Yeah, he's cool!" "I promise you she'll be in on time." "Oh yeah, she can talk with the two tongue studs.") In other words, there was no "party system" here.
All right, let's move down the road, say, four months. The manager is now reviewing each employee's performance. There are three employees that have been consistently late, rude to customers, been short on the register, and/or damaging the french fry fryer numerous times. There are other applicants ready to interview. Do you give them a second try and apply some re-training or do you decide to interview new people and cut your losses? This is a tough one. If it is their first negative review, some help would be the best way to go, since they may show some promise with assistance (take it from me, positive support is effective!). However, with a 2nd or 3rd negative review, it is time for new blood, right?
OK, now let's move from the McWorld of slightly-above minimum wage employment and into the realm of the Amercan Presidency. In our history, we've gone through over 50% of them without really checking their backgrounds, and DEFINITELY have not applied regular review with possible consequences for regular negativity.
This year, we are going to decide whether we have 4 more years of certain stress or 4 years of uncertain stress. Instead of dealing with debates and a lot of wishy-washy hemming around important issues, let's set some goals for these people (and i don't mean just the 2 we're usually forced to decide between, let's make it an open forum for ANYONE WHO CAN DO THE JOB!). Here are a few to start with.
1. A solid plan to make every public school student literate (and reaonable for teachers to implement)
2. A solid plan to balance the budget.
3. A solid plan to make America a quality-product producing nation (therefore economically strong and job-rich).
4. A solid plan to bring peace to the world (just kidding, I do not expect the impossible)
5 Most importantly: a solid plan to BRING GAS BELOW $2 A GALLON permanently!
All right, these 2 candidates present these plans to the American people. We're on solid footing already. There is no "secret plan" to be unleashed only upon election. That's like the McDonald's applicant saying they may or may not be able to work when scheduled if hired. Nobody without those plans is able to run for office. These 4 plans will be made available during the primaries. The next few months will be made open for plan analysis, background checks, waiting for the Fall TV season, etc.
Next, the election occurs. The candidate is inaugurated THE DAY AFTER HE/SHE IS ELECTED! There is no 2 months of lame duck, felon-pardoning crap. The winner moves in immediately...well, ok, let's give it a week. What fun is there if the previous tenant can't trash the place before moving out?
Let's move three months into the future. The candidate has had time to meet his/her next goal: meeting with advisors to begin implementing ONE plan, any of them. If they were successful and did not spend those months hiring high school or college buddies famous for making fake IDs, they get a positive review. If not, they are put on probation for the next few months. If the goal is STILL not met, a new election is in order, or the candidate with the 2nd-highest number of votes from November should given a chance.
Who does these reviews? Hint: it rhymes with FEEPLE, not MONGRESS, the BENNETT, or the KUPREME SORT. That's right, no politicians here. We want regular people with regular jobs and problems reviewing the President (the average McDonald's manager is a good example). The best question to start with is: what are you doing for us?
OK, that is my proposal for the overhaul of the election process. Yes, I understand this is possibly treasonous to the American way of life. But, hey, the system isn't working, people are scared as it is...and I can't understand the cashier with the 2 tongue studs!
Note the procedure: the manager goes through SEVERAL people before finding the right person for the job. He didn't select someone based on an employee's recommendation("Yeah, he's cool!" "I promise you she'll be in on time." "Oh yeah, she can talk with the two tongue studs.") In other words, there was no "party system" here.
All right, let's move down the road, say, four months. The manager is now reviewing each employee's performance. There are three employees that have been consistently late, rude to customers, been short on the register, and/or damaging the french fry fryer numerous times. There are other applicants ready to interview. Do you give them a second try and apply some re-training or do you decide to interview new people and cut your losses? This is a tough one. If it is their first negative review, some help would be the best way to go, since they may show some promise with assistance (take it from me, positive support is effective!). However, with a 2nd or 3rd negative review, it is time for new blood, right?
OK, now let's move from the McWorld of slightly-above minimum wage employment and into the realm of the Amercan Presidency. In our history, we've gone through over 50% of them without really checking their backgrounds, and DEFINITELY have not applied regular review with possible consequences for regular negativity.
This year, we are going to decide whether we have 4 more years of certain stress or 4 years of uncertain stress. Instead of dealing with debates and a lot of wishy-washy hemming around important issues, let's set some goals for these people (and i don't mean just the 2 we're usually forced to decide between, let's make it an open forum for ANYONE WHO CAN DO THE JOB!). Here are a few to start with.
1. A solid plan to make every public school student literate (and reaonable for teachers to implement)
2. A solid plan to balance the budget.
3. A solid plan to make America a quality-product producing nation (therefore economically strong and job-rich).
4. A solid plan to bring peace to the world (just kidding, I do not expect the impossible)
5 Most importantly: a solid plan to BRING GAS BELOW $2 A GALLON permanently!
All right, these 2 candidates present these plans to the American people. We're on solid footing already. There is no "secret plan" to be unleashed only upon election. That's like the McDonald's applicant saying they may or may not be able to work when scheduled if hired. Nobody without those plans is able to run for office. These 4 plans will be made available during the primaries. The next few months will be made open for plan analysis, background checks, waiting for the Fall TV season, etc.
Next, the election occurs. The candidate is inaugurated THE DAY AFTER HE/SHE IS ELECTED! There is no 2 months of lame duck, felon-pardoning crap. The winner moves in immediately...well, ok, let's give it a week. What fun is there if the previous tenant can't trash the place before moving out?
Let's move three months into the future. The candidate has had time to meet his/her next goal: meeting with advisors to begin implementing ONE plan, any of them. If they were successful and did not spend those months hiring high school or college buddies famous for making fake IDs, they get a positive review. If not, they are put on probation for the next few months. If the goal is STILL not met, a new election is in order, or the candidate with the 2nd-highest number of votes from November should given a chance.
Who does these reviews? Hint: it rhymes with FEEPLE, not MONGRESS, the BENNETT, or the KUPREME SORT. That's right, no politicians here. We want regular people with regular jobs and problems reviewing the President (the average McDonald's manager is a good example). The best question to start with is: what are you doing for us?
OK, that is my proposal for the overhaul of the election process. Yes, I understand this is possibly treasonous to the American way of life. But, hey, the system isn't working, people are scared as it is...and I can't understand the cashier with the 2 tongue studs!
Tuesday, June 12, 2012
A rare literary critique from Mr. Moore
In the past year, I've had the pleasure of watching the classic miniseries and the novel "Rich Man Poor Man". It's strange how I came upon it at all. My wife and I were watching "Any Which Way You Can", you know, a movie many consider to be in Clint Eastwood's low period (Clint and an ape sharing screen time is good evidence of that opinion!) However, his male co-star in the film, William Smith, did a good job playing Clint's fight opponent and eventual ally. I looked up Smith on Youtube and found some clips of him from this miniseries in 1976 playing a very menacing bad guy. In 2010 the miniseries came to DVD and soon after Netflix picked it up. We watched it over the course of several months, along with its lesser-quality sequel "Rich Man poor Man Book II", of which William Smith as evil Falconetti was the best thing about it. I bought the book "RMPM" and had a pretty good time over the Christmas holidays reading it. So, being the occasional literary critic, I decided to do a brief compare/contrast piece on characters.
In fact, the differences are MAINLY in characters.
1. Julie Prescott/Gretchen Jordache: In the book, there was no Julie Prescott. There WAS a Julie that Rudolph(Rudy) liked, but his young disinterest in love and romance prevented a future with her. Later, Rudolph met and married Jean Prescott when his business success was booming. She, like Julie in the miniseries , became an alcoholic coping with Rudy’s business and political successes. Jean, like Julie in the miniseries, does factor in to Tom’s murder.
Gretchen Jordache did not appear in the miniseries. She is the oldest of the Jordache children. She is the character that loses her virginity to Teddy Boylan, marries Willie Abbott, and has a child with Abbott named Billy. Subsequently, she divorces Willie, marries a screenwriter who later dies in a car accident, and then gets involved with another show-biz type. Being a Jordache, she endures a difficult adulthood as a result of being disowned by her mother Mary (father Axel Jordache for the most part disregards her presence). She is often cold, mean, yet vulnerable at all times. Brother Rudy bears her scorn and yet finds himself helping her when asked. He does so dutifully but without much love.
2. Falconetti: In the miniseries, Falconetti (no first name given) was a sadistic and tough sailor who intimidated almost all on the ship’s crew. Tom Jordache beat him in a fight and took his eye out. Falconetti was taken off the ship for medical attention. Later in the miniseries, he came back and, for some unexplained reason, targeted Julie Jordache for sexual assault (one could assume he did it to lure Tom in for the kill, though this cannot be proven). Tom, acting on a lead from a friend, finds Julie being molested by Falconetti and suffers some damage from a hammer before beating Falconetti. Tom decides not to kill the man, which turns out to be his undoing because after he is released from the doctor, he is blindsided by two thugs who stab him to death as Falconetti watches from the pier. In the novel, Falconetti is indeed the ship’s bully, and indeed Tom beats him up. However, his eye is not taken out. Tom proceeds to mildly humiliate him for a short time. Finally, Falconetti can take no more and he commits suicide by jumping into the sea. Tom is suspected of murdering him, but no charges are ever filed. In the end of the novel, a Yugoslav named Danovic plays the same role as Falconetti at the show’s end episode, right up to Tom’s death by hired thugs ( a theory of mine is that they changed Falconetti’s fate to cast him in the 2nd miniseries).
3. Teddy Boylan: Not much of a change occurs with this character, except that he sleeps with Gretchen in the book and not Julie. He is also more of a pervert in the book, as he takes Gretchen to a brothel for a session of voyeurism, which disgusts and arouses Gretchen at the same time. In the novel he also spends a lot of time with Rudy. He does this at first because he sees Rudy as a conduit to Gretchen, but later the time spent is altruistic (personally, I detected a hint of bisexuality in Teddy in the novel, but it was never acted on besides throwing a punch at a homosexual in a bar, perhaps to cover up). In the novel Teddy does not refer Rudy to Duncan Calderwood
4. Duncan Calderwood: Much the same in both medias, except that he plays more of a background role in the novel. It is stated that Rudy works for him at first for summer work while in the miniseries, Teddy Boylan referred Rudy to Calderwood.
5. Brad Knight: In the miniseries, he is Rudy’s friend and business partner. In the novel, his is more or less Rudy’s friend who turns out to be a poor businessman and crook that Rudy personally vilifies.
6. Willie Abbot: In the miniseries, he pursues Julie Prescott and marries her. They eventually divorce as a result of his drinking and adultery, and Rudy for all intents and purposes throws him out of town in exchange for money. Willie crashes his car in suicide. In the novel, he is married to Gretchen and they divorce, but the adultery is on both sides. He does not commit suicide, but disappears, assumably a drunken wreck.
7. Axel Jordache: the only real difference between the medias is that in the novel he defends Rudy from his French teacher while in the miniseries he defends Tom from the same teacher…a strange scene because in Axel’s other miniseries scenes, he is cruel and brutal toward Tom.
8. Professor Denton: In the miniseries, he is a professor that Rudy admires, but Rudy decides to protect his own interests instead of engaging in controversial political activities and testifying for Denton when he is accused of communism. The miniseries depicts Denton walking angrily away from Rudy after his rejection of help, hinting of possible suicide like other “red” targets. In the book, however, Denton moves to Europe to escape being targeted, but comes back with Rudy’s influence and support.
9. Rudy Jordache: the character development is basically the same. In the novel, he half-pursues a frustrated Julie who just wants him to finally bed her, loses his virginity to a lonely, vicious friend of Gretchen and Willie, then later pursues Jean Prescott and marries her. He becomes a successful businessman, and later mayor of Whitby and the father of two children with Jean. In the miniseries, he is obsessed with Julie Prescott and keeps pursuing her, but once they marry, he all but ignores her in his senatorial race. In both media, he is a shrewd businessman.
10. Tom Jordache: once again, mostly the same in both media in terms of character growth. In the book, he is kicked out of town for the cross at Teddy Boylan’s place and lives with his uncle. However, he does not meet Teresa there. Their meeting isn’t really explained, just that he married her at some point and had Wesley. His contempt for Rudy in the book is larger than that for Gretchen, and he doesn’t fully make peace with his brother until toward the end of the book. Also, his downfall in the boxing world in the novel is due to him being drawn to the good life in Europe, and therefore losing a fight he could have won easily. In the miniseries he threw it all away to find his son Wesley.
Overall, the producers of the miniseries had to make adjustments to the story, just like any adaptation. After being exposed to the story both ways, I prefer the presentation of the miniseries, simply because the story flows better, and there is more of a balance between Rudy’s and Tom’s stories. The book made Tom’s life a bit confusing as to why he ended up in the places he did. In the end, both media present a good story, and a classic dysfunctional family if I ever saw one!
Perhaps one day I'll consider doing a piece on "Fletch".....no, that'd be insulting the books.
Tuesday, May 1, 2012
Road Love's Origins
Recently, my father was showing me and my family his passionate collection of Arnold Palmer memorabilia. I’d say this collection borders on obsession, but who am I to say? Actually, this collection has made me go back and remember how my own obsession began…the obsession with roads and highways.
I remembered my own obsession (I’d prefer to call it love, and who’s to say? Roads , maps, and atlases can’t file stalking charges!) because my dad was clearing out old things to make room for more Arnold Palmer materials. By clearing out old things, I mean he was essentially regifting things back to me that I’d given to him long ago! The first item was a book about Route 66. The other was a fairly short, but well-photographed, history about the Pennsylvania Turnpike.
I’ve written about the Turnpike before, in the context of many drives from Pennsylvania to Michigan when I was young. The earlier drives I do not remember much about, with the exception of the tunnels. When I was 8, however, I started noticing the red white and blue Interstate shields for the first time. Those signs began to mean something important to me. They meant a nearly endless piece of pavement that would take me to places I had never seen before.
I remember the Christmas trip to Michigan in late 1980 vividly. We had just moved back to PA from North Carolina 2 months earlier, and were doing the out-of-town Christmas trip for the last time (we didn’t know that then, though). Months later, my dad’s mom would lose her long battle with cancer, and our reasons for not being home for Christmas would be gone.
We set out from our rental house and were soon on U.S. 222. It wasn’t an interstate (well, it was, but it was a black and white shield that wasn’t exciting as flag colors). Going south on 222, we left the Reading area and it wasn’t long before the first sign for the Turnpike came up: 5 miles away! Soon came 4 miles, then 3, then 2. At that point 222 became a freeway. Soon came the exit for the Turnpike. What a magnificent sign lay at the end of the ramp: a huge green keystone-shaped sign that pointed left for the magical road. We drove through a toll booth to get a ticket. Up ahead were several signs indicating which lane to stay in.: west Interstate 76 for Harrisburg and West, or east Interstate 76 for Philadelphia and East. I think that’s another thing that made the Turnpike so great, it was also a flag-colored Interstate! We headed west, went down a cloverleaf and onto the Turnpike itself finally!
Now that we were on the road, the anticipation was gone somewhat, but I was still excited. We could go about 20 miles before seeing any indication that an exit was coming up. When one did come up, it was excitement in itself. There would be the first sign two miles away, then the 1-mile sign, then the ½ mile sign that simply said in large letters “THIS EXIT.” It wasn’t too long before we hit the Harrisburg area and crossed the Susquehanna River. Harrisburg held a series of exits fairly close to one another. The final one, which was for U.S. 11 and Interstate 81 (oh boy, ANOTHER Interstate!) was significant in that we were now entering the original 160-mile segment of Turnpike. Once that moment passed, we were on a fairly boring (in terms of LONG) stretch of the road.
We could see Blue Mountain, but it would not come our way for 25 miles! When it did, we saw the classic “TUNNEL: 1 MILE” sign that got my blood pumping. Once we went through those first 2 dazzling, well-lit tunnels with the low hum, the scenery changed drastically. Instead of rural, rolling countryside filled with farms, the turnpike now went through low mountainous country. This is actually what made the Turnpike favorable in the 1940s when it was new. The trip between Harrisburg and Pittsburgh had once been an all-day affair due to the treacherous road conditions in the mountains, such as tight curves and bad visibility. The Turnpike cut that drive almost by more than half for many people, even though it was originally just 160 miles!
After the first 2 tunnels, another one (Tuscarora) went by. Soon after, another anticipated part of the Turnpike came: Sideling Hill! This was a rest stop we made on all of the Michigan trips. In those days, it was run by Howard Johnsons, and was a cafeteria-like set-up. We got what we wanted to eat, grabbed a snack and bathroom break, then headed back on to the road.
Ordinarily after that stop, I’d just sit and watch the scenery, or read a book that I’d brought along. It would be about 50 miles before the next tunnel. Wait, though, there was another surprise for me. Soon after that rest stop, the Turnpike picked up another Interstate highway! For 88 miles, the Turnpike was both Interstate 70 AND 76! While we carried I-70, the Turnpike went through its final tunnel at Allegheny Mountain.
Even though the terrain was still mountainous, the distance between exits was greater in some areas, the largest being 36 miles! However, Allegheny Tunnel was within those miles, so there was a balance. Not long after, we got into the greater Pittsburgh area and got more exits close together. Before I could fully take all that in, the mile markers narrowed to the final 10 miles. In all that time, we had lost I-70, crossed I-376 and I-79, and got a lot of nice western Pennsylvania scenery. At about mile marker 1, we reached the end toll plaza for Pennsylvania, paid the fare, and about 3 miles later we crossed into the Ohio toll plaza to begin the process over again.
I had noted in a previous post that Ohio didn’t do much for me. There were no tunnels, the land was fairly flat, and after the Cleveland area it was all mostly treeless farm country. Even after getting off the Turnpike, it was the same. Interstate-wise, it was more exciting! Ohio took away I-76 20 miles in, but in exchange I got not only I-80, but also I-90 after Cleveland. We crossed I-680, I-71, I-77, I-480, and after getting off the Turnpike, we were on I-280, which merged into I-75 after Toledo! Michigan brought interchanges with I-275, I-96, I-375, I-94, and I-696.
Yes, that Christmas I truly became enamored with the numbered highways. Quite frankly, I still am. Whenever my family and I go up to Utah, I-15’s junction with I-70 makes me want to take the long way to Salt Lake just so I can experience Glenwood Canyon and the Eisenhower Tunnel again in Colorado. Every time we take a road trip, I get a rush. My love for highways is unexplainable…but then so is people’s love for “Dancing With the Stars”. Well, you can keep your dancing celebrities, bad song remakes and moronic boring judges. I want my highway signs and road atlases, tunnels and bridges. I don’t judge them. I love them all!
I remembered my own obsession (I’d prefer to call it love, and who’s to say? Roads , maps, and atlases can’t file stalking charges!) because my dad was clearing out old things to make room for more Arnold Palmer materials. By clearing out old things, I mean he was essentially regifting things back to me that I’d given to him long ago! The first item was a book about Route 66. The other was a fairly short, but well-photographed, history about the Pennsylvania Turnpike.
I’ve written about the Turnpike before, in the context of many drives from Pennsylvania to Michigan when I was young. The earlier drives I do not remember much about, with the exception of the tunnels. When I was 8, however, I started noticing the red white and blue Interstate shields for the first time. Those signs began to mean something important to me. They meant a nearly endless piece of pavement that would take me to places I had never seen before.
I remember the Christmas trip to Michigan in late 1980 vividly. We had just moved back to PA from North Carolina 2 months earlier, and were doing the out-of-town Christmas trip for the last time (we didn’t know that then, though). Months later, my dad’s mom would lose her long battle with cancer, and our reasons for not being home for Christmas would be gone.
We set out from our rental house and were soon on U.S. 222. It wasn’t an interstate (well, it was, but it was a black and white shield that wasn’t exciting as flag colors). Going south on 222, we left the Reading area and it wasn’t long before the first sign for the Turnpike came up: 5 miles away! Soon came 4 miles, then 3, then 2. At that point 222 became a freeway. Soon came the exit for the Turnpike. What a magnificent sign lay at the end of the ramp: a huge green keystone-shaped sign that pointed left for the magical road. We drove through a toll booth to get a ticket. Up ahead were several signs indicating which lane to stay in.: west Interstate 76 for Harrisburg and West, or east Interstate 76 for Philadelphia and East. I think that’s another thing that made the Turnpike so great, it was also a flag-colored Interstate! We headed west, went down a cloverleaf and onto the Turnpike itself finally!
Now that we were on the road, the anticipation was gone somewhat, but I was still excited. We could go about 20 miles before seeing any indication that an exit was coming up. When one did come up, it was excitement in itself. There would be the first sign two miles away, then the 1-mile sign, then the ½ mile sign that simply said in large letters “THIS EXIT.” It wasn’t too long before we hit the Harrisburg area and crossed the Susquehanna River. Harrisburg held a series of exits fairly close to one another. The final one, which was for U.S. 11 and Interstate 81 (oh boy, ANOTHER Interstate!) was significant in that we were now entering the original 160-mile segment of Turnpike. Once that moment passed, we were on a fairly boring (in terms of LONG) stretch of the road.
We could see Blue Mountain, but it would not come our way for 25 miles! When it did, we saw the classic “TUNNEL: 1 MILE” sign that got my blood pumping. Once we went through those first 2 dazzling, well-lit tunnels with the low hum, the scenery changed drastically. Instead of rural, rolling countryside filled with farms, the turnpike now went through low mountainous country. This is actually what made the Turnpike favorable in the 1940s when it was new. The trip between Harrisburg and Pittsburgh had once been an all-day affair due to the treacherous road conditions in the mountains, such as tight curves and bad visibility. The Turnpike cut that drive almost by more than half for many people, even though it was originally just 160 miles!
After the first 2 tunnels, another one (Tuscarora) went by. Soon after, another anticipated part of the Turnpike came: Sideling Hill! This was a rest stop we made on all of the Michigan trips. In those days, it was run by Howard Johnsons, and was a cafeteria-like set-up. We got what we wanted to eat, grabbed a snack and bathroom break, then headed back on to the road.
Ordinarily after that stop, I’d just sit and watch the scenery, or read a book that I’d brought along. It would be about 50 miles before the next tunnel. Wait, though, there was another surprise for me. Soon after that rest stop, the Turnpike picked up another Interstate highway! For 88 miles, the Turnpike was both Interstate 70 AND 76! While we carried I-70, the Turnpike went through its final tunnel at Allegheny Mountain.
Even though the terrain was still mountainous, the distance between exits was greater in some areas, the largest being 36 miles! However, Allegheny Tunnel was within those miles, so there was a balance. Not long after, we got into the greater Pittsburgh area and got more exits close together. Before I could fully take all that in, the mile markers narrowed to the final 10 miles. In all that time, we had lost I-70, crossed I-376 and I-79, and got a lot of nice western Pennsylvania scenery. At about mile marker 1, we reached the end toll plaza for Pennsylvania, paid the fare, and about 3 miles later we crossed into the Ohio toll plaza to begin the process over again.
I had noted in a previous post that Ohio didn’t do much for me. There were no tunnels, the land was fairly flat, and after the Cleveland area it was all mostly treeless farm country. Even after getting off the Turnpike, it was the same. Interstate-wise, it was more exciting! Ohio took away I-76 20 miles in, but in exchange I got not only I-80, but also I-90 after Cleveland. We crossed I-680, I-71, I-77, I-480, and after getting off the Turnpike, we were on I-280, which merged into I-75 after Toledo! Michigan brought interchanges with I-275, I-96, I-375, I-94, and I-696.
Yes, that Christmas I truly became enamored with the numbered highways. Quite frankly, I still am. Whenever my family and I go up to Utah, I-15’s junction with I-70 makes me want to take the long way to Salt Lake just so I can experience Glenwood Canyon and the Eisenhower Tunnel again in Colorado. Every time we take a road trip, I get a rush. My love for highways is unexplainable…but then so is people’s love for “Dancing With the Stars”. Well, you can keep your dancing celebrities, bad song remakes and moronic boring judges. I want my highway signs and road atlases, tunnels and bridges. I don’t judge them. I love them all!
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