Wow, what a revelation: even though I vacuum every week and have a housekeeper come in every other week for the heavy lifting, I live in a pigsty! Yes, indeed, I do, in spite of what seems like constant cleaning.
I store extra boxes of beverages under the bench seats of my kitchen set, out of sight until I need to refill the bev ‘fridge. The other day, I dragged out a couple of boxes and was astounded at how filthy dirty the boxes were. Guess they haven’t been cleaned since the day they came home from the market and hid under the bench. The good news is that the cans inside the box were clean, so those went directly into the ‘fridge, but the bad news is that the cans/bottles in the open boxes of beverages had to be cleaned individually before they could be stowed in the ‘fridge. Lots of work for little reward because I was NOT going to toss them out just because they were dirty!
Then, I leaned down to look at the floor under the bench. Believe me, there are no words to describe that dirty floor. Curious, I next picked up the dog assist, the step that allows the dogs can go through the doggie door; yeah, really, really dirty underneath that, too, including a couple of outdoor bugs and some landscape rocks. I discovered the dirty strip of carpet behind the door into the office, a door that is always open, so the dirt had months to accumulate. And the actual office is going to be cleaned, including either tossing away or donating, years of stuff with which I simply cannot part, including the cardboard dividers that form the open boxes in which my favorite yogurt is packaged. The size and shape is perfect for … something; I simply have not figured out what—yet.
The list goes on because I bought yet another new vacuum cleaner, one that apparently picks up dog hair by the pound, evidenced by how often I had to dump the easy-open dirt bin. Disgusting. The thought of all the mites, bacteria, and other dangerous foreign substances inhabiting my decades’ old mattress can turn my stomach, but adding to it the deep-down filth of the carpeting throughout the house leads me to consider issuing haz mat suits and posting health warnings at the outside doors. My house will never be the one where the family sprawls on the living room carpeting for family game night without first ascertaining that everyone is up-to-date on vaccinations.
I have a container with every known cleaning product, but my house is still filthy dirty with regular cleaning. Imagine what must lie beneath a hoarder’s stash! No wonder so many people develop respiratory diseases and weird bacterial infections. Rather than prescribing endless antibiotics, we probably should issue housekeepers to the patients in the ER.
I probably need to step up the cleaning, but part of me is saying, "Screw it. Just move and start fresh."
Thursday, March 29, 2012
Wednesday, March 28, 2012
The Fix is In
There is no way that no one had the numbers in the Mega Millions lottery! The odds are against the fact that out of all the hundreds of millions of tickets sold, not one has the winning combination. I never thought the lottery was rigged until yesterday, when it was revealed that in the last 20 drawings, there are 5 numbers that have not been drawn: statistically, what are the odds of that happening? Astronomical, at least, unless the drawings are manipulated to ensure that there is no winning combination for ... 21 drawings.
As we all are experiencing, desperate times require desperate measures, so more people than ever are taking a chance on winning something to help them make it through tough times. Sadly, all too often that chance is buying a lottery ticket. Yesterday I joined the line at my local bodega, forking over $5 to be the one rolling in green dough. In line with me was an elderly man with $150 collected at the senior center (his words, not mine). He said it would be "sweet" to win and be able to find a nicer room to rent, as well as pay for his medical bills. Yeah, it would -- but winning comes at a price, too. All I could think was put this $150 to better use because that's a lot of money to lose. And lose it they did, along with every other single Mega Millions lottery player.
Yesterday' lottery Mega millions roll over to a prize in excess of $400 million, of which 2/3 pays for "taxes" and the rest is paid out to the winner over 20 years, all the while generating income for the state treasury. The way the "lottery" gets rich is by keeping as much of the investment money from players as it can for as long as it can. The states' goal is to get more people to play, to spend more money on tickets, money that goes into the states' coffers, and last night saw the highest sales ever for lottery tickets. The winner of the lottery is incidental to increasing the lottery cash reserves held by the state. The bigger the prize, the more revenue from each sales' cycle, and the way the pot gets bigger is by no one winning it.
This is not a "win-win" for the players and the states; the only winners in any lottery are the agencies selling the tickets. I don't know if the seniors at the center have another $150 to buy more tickets of hope, but I have other ways to spend my $5.
As we all are experiencing, desperate times require desperate measures, so more people than ever are taking a chance on winning something to help them make it through tough times. Sadly, all too often that chance is buying a lottery ticket. Yesterday I joined the line at my local bodega, forking over $5 to be the one rolling in green dough. In line with me was an elderly man with $150 collected at the senior center (his words, not mine). He said it would be "sweet" to win and be able to find a nicer room to rent, as well as pay for his medical bills. Yeah, it would -- but winning comes at a price, too. All I could think was put this $150 to better use because that's a lot of money to lose. And lose it they did, along with every other single Mega Millions lottery player.
Yesterday' lottery Mega millions roll over to a prize in excess of $400 million, of which 2/3 pays for "taxes" and the rest is paid out to the winner over 20 years, all the while generating income for the state treasury. The way the "lottery" gets rich is by keeping as much of the investment money from players as it can for as long as it can. The states' goal is to get more people to play, to spend more money on tickets, money that goes into the states' coffers, and last night saw the highest sales ever for lottery tickets. The winner of the lottery is incidental to increasing the lottery cash reserves held by the state. The bigger the prize, the more revenue from each sales' cycle, and the way the pot gets bigger is by no one winning it.
This is not a "win-win" for the players and the states; the only winners in any lottery are the agencies selling the tickets. I don't know if the seniors at the center have another $150 to buy more tickets of hope, but I have other ways to spend my $5.
Saturday, March 24, 2012
Powerful Words
In the reading skill development textbook (John Langan, Ten Steps to Advancing College Reading Skills) is a story about Julia Burney, who so loved books that she created a program, Cops ‘n Kids, in Racine, Wisconsin that earned her one of Oprah Winfrey’s “Use Your Life” awards. In the narrative, Julia is quoted as saying, “… these kids … can’t aspire to be something that they’ve never seen.”
Those words are humming through my mind this morning after being awakened earlier with what seemed like an endless stream of police vehicles traveling code 3 on the main road through town. This morning, news reports confirm that there was a “group,” deliberately avoiding the use of the word “gang,” gathered at 1:30 AM. Shots were fired and at least 5 victims were still at the scene when law enforcement arrived, but the rest of the “group,” estimated to be about 100 people, scattered into the desert. One reader’s on-line comment indicates, however, that there are more victims coming out of hiding and finding their way to the ERs in the desert for treatment of their wounds.
[UPDATE: It is now a gang-related incident; however, many of the victims either went home or to other locations to regroup, so victims are still coming forth. About 6 dozen various law enforcement vehicles (etc) were at the primary scene, which is still being processed.]
What dismays me is that this shooting, according to the news reports, occurred in a field on the other side of a local middle school. No matter what the lesson plan is for Monday, and no matter the age group inside the classroom, the lesson for the students will be the excitement of the nearby shooting, each one sharing with the others what s/he “knows” about what happened and to whom and why. Of course, no one will talk to the police because … that’s not what people do these days unless there is a personal payday at the end of the interview. Julia Burney’s words came rushing back to me: “kids … can’t aspire to be something that they’ve never seen.”
Far too often kids do live what they see, and in this Valley, kids live gangs. There are white gangs, black gangs, brown gangs, Samoan gangs, and yellow gangs, as well as the mixed gangs that form in prison and come to the parole places along with the prisoners released early from the over-crowded jail facilities. No one wants the jail built in their community, but without the jails, we get the unfettered criminals who help children aspire to become something that the criminals have not just seen, but lived, and then delight in showing to the young wannabees who want to become them. Little strokes an adult ego like a young child's adulation.
When a local jury is convened for yet another criminal trial in this area, it’s most likely to involve gang activity, with defendants far too young to face living out their lives behind bars. But the older gang members, the ones who live to the ripe old age of their early 30s, portray the gang as family, the gang as a support group, the guys who “have got your back, bro” to the young kids who wander the streets. “Kids” living in this environment have been trained through personal experience not just to see the violence, but to give back whatever they have been given, and, perhaps, to take it to the next level as the accessibility to better weaponry provides the children with the means to get even for their lifetime of verbal and physical abuse. For these kids, and the millions of other kids just like them across the nation, it’s not a matter of what is right or what is wrong, but it’s what I see every day of my life, it’s what I know, what I have been taught by the adults in my life, what I have been trained to do myself. As the kids say, “Payback is a bitch.”
It’s never “my child” to a parent, but it’s always someone’s child who either commits the violence or is a victim of it. After the fact, whether the child is the perp or the victim, the grieving parent laments that the child was a “good” boy, a “good” girl, and swear on all that’s holy that “my child” was not involved with gangs, that “my child” would never do whatever it is that s/he is accused of doing.
Five young men, ranging in ages 13-20, broke up a birthday party a couple of years back, a party on a Sunday afternoon, by bringing death to a rival gang member who was the father of the child celebrating his birthday. That case is slowly making its way through the court system, as well as building sympathy for the youngest offenders (whose parents aver that "my child" had no idea what he was invovled with) and sanitizing the memory of the shooting victim (who "may" have been involved with gangs at one time, but not at the time of his death). That story reverberates dozens of times each year in this area, and we are not the worst geography for gangs and murders, just another part of the country where gangs and crime have become a way of life.
Are there still kids who can be turned around with a reading program, who can learn about other ways to live their lives without the violence and abuse? Sure, but I’m beginning to think that living a life filled with danger and the possibility of violent payback is far more exciting than reading about “normal” people and their boring lives. Why would any kid be happy to play with a squirt gun when s/he can obtain, practice with, and then use an automatic weapon that, with one squeeze of a trigger, doesn’t cause squeals of laughter, but screams of pain and the silence of death.
If Burney is correct that “kids … can’t aspire to be something that they’ve never seen,” we need to change the landscape our kids see each day, and that begins within the walls of our homes. It is not up to the community to be the parent, but to support the parents to show their children more and better ways to live their lives. It has to come from within, one hard day at a time, for every child. Take the violence out of the music, out of the videos, out of the media, and replace it with positive role models, positive personal interaction, appropriate language and conduct. And, maybe, with a Cops 'n Kids reading center.
Allow classroom teachers to discuss morality and ethics, rather than tying their hands with the dangers of infringing on any one child’s individual (ethnic) rights. Just because it’s okay for some cultures to condone teenage suicide bombers does not mean that the US has to condone it. Ditto the brutality to citizens in countries where ruthless dictators, such as Kony, use violence to control the people. Ditto the corrupt politicians who accept financial pay-offs to look the other way when drug lords and their enforcement squads slaughter civilians and dump their bodies into mass graves as warnings to others to support their criminal enterprise.
It’s going to take a long time to undo the damage we’ve done to our young people through the glorification and acceptance of violence as a way of life. Children do live what they see, but they also die as a result of that vision. It's ironic that kids today don't know the standard Golden Rule, but they all know the new Rule: "Never bring a knife to a gunfight!"
Those words are humming through my mind this morning after being awakened earlier with what seemed like an endless stream of police vehicles traveling code 3 on the main road through town. This morning, news reports confirm that there was a “group,” deliberately avoiding the use of the word “gang,” gathered at 1:30 AM. Shots were fired and at least 5 victims were still at the scene when law enforcement arrived, but the rest of the “group,” estimated to be about 100 people, scattered into the desert. One reader’s on-line comment indicates, however, that there are more victims coming out of hiding and finding their way to the ERs in the desert for treatment of their wounds.
[UPDATE: It is now a gang-related incident; however, many of the victims either went home or to other locations to regroup, so victims are still coming forth. About 6 dozen various law enforcement vehicles (etc) were at the primary scene, which is still being processed.]
What dismays me is that this shooting, according to the news reports, occurred in a field on the other side of a local middle school. No matter what the lesson plan is for Monday, and no matter the age group inside the classroom, the lesson for the students will be the excitement of the nearby shooting, each one sharing with the others what s/he “knows” about what happened and to whom and why. Of course, no one will talk to the police because … that’s not what people do these days unless there is a personal payday at the end of the interview. Julia Burney’s words came rushing back to me: “kids … can’t aspire to be something that they’ve never seen.”
Far too often kids do live what they see, and in this Valley, kids live gangs. There are white gangs, black gangs, brown gangs, Samoan gangs, and yellow gangs, as well as the mixed gangs that form in prison and come to the parole places along with the prisoners released early from the over-crowded jail facilities. No one wants the jail built in their community, but without the jails, we get the unfettered criminals who help children aspire to become something that the criminals have not just seen, but lived, and then delight in showing to the young wannabees who want to become them. Little strokes an adult ego like a young child's adulation.
When a local jury is convened for yet another criminal trial in this area, it’s most likely to involve gang activity, with defendants far too young to face living out their lives behind bars. But the older gang members, the ones who live to the ripe old age of their early 30s, portray the gang as family, the gang as a support group, the guys who “have got your back, bro” to the young kids who wander the streets. “Kids” living in this environment have been trained through personal experience not just to see the violence, but to give back whatever they have been given, and, perhaps, to take it to the next level as the accessibility to better weaponry provides the children with the means to get even for their lifetime of verbal and physical abuse. For these kids, and the millions of other kids just like them across the nation, it’s not a matter of what is right or what is wrong, but it’s what I see every day of my life, it’s what I know, what I have been taught by the adults in my life, what I have been trained to do myself. As the kids say, “Payback is a bitch.”
It’s never “my child” to a parent, but it’s always someone’s child who either commits the violence or is a victim of it. After the fact, whether the child is the perp or the victim, the grieving parent laments that the child was a “good” boy, a “good” girl, and swear on all that’s holy that “my child” was not involved with gangs, that “my child” would never do whatever it is that s/he is accused of doing.
Five young men, ranging in ages 13-20, broke up a birthday party a couple of years back, a party on a Sunday afternoon, by bringing death to a rival gang member who was the father of the child celebrating his birthday. That case is slowly making its way through the court system, as well as building sympathy for the youngest offenders (whose parents aver that "my child" had no idea what he was invovled with) and sanitizing the memory of the shooting victim (who "may" have been involved with gangs at one time, but not at the time of his death). That story reverberates dozens of times each year in this area, and we are not the worst geography for gangs and murders, just another part of the country where gangs and crime have become a way of life.
Are there still kids who can be turned around with a reading program, who can learn about other ways to live their lives without the violence and abuse? Sure, but I’m beginning to think that living a life filled with danger and the possibility of violent payback is far more exciting than reading about “normal” people and their boring lives. Why would any kid be happy to play with a squirt gun when s/he can obtain, practice with, and then use an automatic weapon that, with one squeeze of a trigger, doesn’t cause squeals of laughter, but screams of pain and the silence of death.
If Burney is correct that “kids … can’t aspire to be something that they’ve never seen,” we need to change the landscape our kids see each day, and that begins within the walls of our homes. It is not up to the community to be the parent, but to support the parents to show their children more and better ways to live their lives. It has to come from within, one hard day at a time, for every child. Take the violence out of the music, out of the videos, out of the media, and replace it with positive role models, positive personal interaction, appropriate language and conduct. And, maybe, with a Cops 'n Kids reading center.
Allow classroom teachers to discuss morality and ethics, rather than tying their hands with the dangers of infringing on any one child’s individual (ethnic) rights. Just because it’s okay for some cultures to condone teenage suicide bombers does not mean that the US has to condone it. Ditto the brutality to citizens in countries where ruthless dictators, such as Kony, use violence to control the people. Ditto the corrupt politicians who accept financial pay-offs to look the other way when drug lords and their enforcement squads slaughter civilians and dump their bodies into mass graves as warnings to others to support their criminal enterprise.
It’s going to take a long time to undo the damage we’ve done to our young people through the glorification and acceptance of violence as a way of life. Children do live what they see, but they also die as a result of that vision. It's ironic that kids today don't know the standard Golden Rule, but they all know the new Rule: "Never bring a knife to a gunfight!"
Thursday, March 22, 2012
11/22/1963
Stephen King is not my favorite writer; as a matter of fact, I avoid his literature because his over-blown, over-written horror stories do not engage me. However, his stories translate into outstanding films because what takes King a thousand tedious words to describe creates incredible mere seconds on the screen. Prior to my most recent King read, his best book in my experience is On Writing, an oft-recommended “memoir of the craft” that left me wondering how King can so clearly define “good writing,” then fail to use those skills in his own writing. I recently added another King read to my recommended reading list, an alternative exploration of changing the world by preventing Lee Harvey Oswald from assassinating President John F. Kennedy in Dallas, TX on November 22, 1963.
Again, as is common in my King experience, the book would benefit from some strong editing as it gets tediously long with no real reason for the length, analogous to beating a dead horse in some aspects, but the story premise is strong. A male English teacher (protagonist) walks through what King calls a rabbit hole and into the past, armed with explicit historical notes from another time-traveler, a Vietnam vet, who uses the benefit of his experience to determine that preventing the Kennedy assassination would not only save the thousands of lives lost during the Vietnam War, but also save the world. Parallel to the conviction that changing one event can better the outcome for the world is the “butterfly” theory, that the flapping of one butterfly’s wings affects the world and there is no way to determine what those affects are. King presents convincing ideas about both theories without demanding that the reader choose either A or B.
I am also one who wonders often what if, but my old head tells me that life happens the way it happens for a reason, including all those horrific events that we all wish never happened, a theory to which I could not subscribe when I was young and burned with the desire to stand the world on its head and right every wrong, even those over which I had absolutely no influence or control. Stephen King and I are of the same era, so I related to his intellectual query, his interweaving of ideas and/or theories about a critical time in our history. Those who were there not only don’t forget, but we use that experience as a bedrock for who we are now, what we became when Kennedy challenged US not to ask what our country can do for us, but what we can do for our country. We took those words personally, and we took his assassination personally. Our generation may still live in shoulda, woulda, coulda, which seems to be the motivation for King’s novel, 11/22/1963.
King researched the people, the places, and the events. He doesn’t pick a favorite theory and ride it from exposition to denouement, but he creates a story that the reader experiences with the protagonist, a man who accepts the challenge to travel back in time and spend 5 years searching to know whether Lee Harvey Oswald acted alone or as a part of a conspiracy. The protagonist’s goal is to kill Oswald before he can kill Kennedy, but before he can take that action, he has to know definitively whether Oswald acted alone because if he were part of a conspiracy, killing one assassin would not solve the problem.
King uses the term “think-hunch” to explain how we combine our knowledge with our intellect and/or experience throughout our lives, and posits that we rely on the “hunch” part almost more than we believe or act on what we think. Modern science has validated a single shooter, including ballistic recreations of the “magic bullet” plausibility that verifies that one bullet could have caused 7 separate wounds, beginning with the Presidential kill shot. While our intellect may accept that evidence, our “hunch” may be yeah, right: I don’t think so.
Determining whether the assassination is a conspiracy or the act of a single shooter, however, is not King’s point: his point is to explore how preventing Kennedy’s assassination may have affected the world. My generation knows how the assassination changed our own interpretation or interaction with the world we each experience, but did Kennedy’s death bring about change for the better or would his life have accomplished that goal? King thinks one way, but his hunch opens another pathway, so there is no definitive answer either for the conspiracy theorists who believe they have the answer, nor for those whose hunch is that life definitely would have been better had Kennedy lived.
Up to that point, I enjoyed reading the novel; however, the last several chapters are weak, unfulfilling, tacked on, as if King could not allow the answer to exist within each reader. If there is no answer, don’t provide one! Anyone who takes the time to read this particular novel is capable of challenging the premise of the story and drawing a conclusion. Change is neither good nor bad: it is merely different.
Leave it there.
Again, as is common in my King experience, the book would benefit from some strong editing as it gets tediously long with no real reason for the length, analogous to beating a dead horse in some aspects, but the story premise is strong. A male English teacher (protagonist) walks through what King calls a rabbit hole and into the past, armed with explicit historical notes from another time-traveler, a Vietnam vet, who uses the benefit of his experience to determine that preventing the Kennedy assassination would not only save the thousands of lives lost during the Vietnam War, but also save the world. Parallel to the conviction that changing one event can better the outcome for the world is the “butterfly” theory, that the flapping of one butterfly’s wings affects the world and there is no way to determine what those affects are. King presents convincing ideas about both theories without demanding that the reader choose either A or B.
I am also one who wonders often what if, but my old head tells me that life happens the way it happens for a reason, including all those horrific events that we all wish never happened, a theory to which I could not subscribe when I was young and burned with the desire to stand the world on its head and right every wrong, even those over which I had absolutely no influence or control. Stephen King and I are of the same era, so I related to his intellectual query, his interweaving of ideas and/or theories about a critical time in our history. Those who were there not only don’t forget, but we use that experience as a bedrock for who we are now, what we became when Kennedy challenged US not to ask what our country can do for us, but what we can do for our country. We took those words personally, and we took his assassination personally. Our generation may still live in shoulda, woulda, coulda, which seems to be the motivation for King’s novel, 11/22/1963.
King researched the people, the places, and the events. He doesn’t pick a favorite theory and ride it from exposition to denouement, but he creates a story that the reader experiences with the protagonist, a man who accepts the challenge to travel back in time and spend 5 years searching to know whether Lee Harvey Oswald acted alone or as a part of a conspiracy. The protagonist’s goal is to kill Oswald before he can kill Kennedy, but before he can take that action, he has to know definitively whether Oswald acted alone because if he were part of a conspiracy, killing one assassin would not solve the problem.
King uses the term “think-hunch” to explain how we combine our knowledge with our intellect and/or experience throughout our lives, and posits that we rely on the “hunch” part almost more than we believe or act on what we think. Modern science has validated a single shooter, including ballistic recreations of the “magic bullet” plausibility that verifies that one bullet could have caused 7 separate wounds, beginning with the Presidential kill shot. While our intellect may accept that evidence, our “hunch” may be yeah, right: I don’t think so.
Determining whether the assassination is a conspiracy or the act of a single shooter, however, is not King’s point: his point is to explore how preventing Kennedy’s assassination may have affected the world. My generation knows how the assassination changed our own interpretation or interaction with the world we each experience, but did Kennedy’s death bring about change for the better or would his life have accomplished that goal? King thinks one way, but his hunch opens another pathway, so there is no definitive answer either for the conspiracy theorists who believe they have the answer, nor for those whose hunch is that life definitely would have been better had Kennedy lived.
Up to that point, I enjoyed reading the novel; however, the last several chapters are weak, unfulfilling, tacked on, as if King could not allow the answer to exist within each reader. If there is no answer, don’t provide one! Anyone who takes the time to read this particular novel is capable of challenging the premise of the story and drawing a conclusion. Change is neither good nor bad: it is merely different.
Leave it there.
Wednesday, March 21, 2012
Smarter than a Phone?
The new “smart” phone is slowly revealing its secrets to me, such as how the heck do I get a ring tone that I can hear? All of the “free” tones that come with the phone are little soft dings or tinkling sounds that are hard to hear and then attach to a phone. Yesterday, I handed the phone to a student and now have the theme from CSI as my tone! THAT I’ll recognize as something to which I need to respond. There is also a voice that yells at me when I receive a text message, so the soft single ding is gone and I may actually be able to put the phone down and still know that it’s doing something that requires my attention.
But, best of all, one person who calls me and I try to avoid now has a special sound: it’s a voice warning that a toxic call is coming in, so DON’T ANSWER YOUR PHONE. I have never felt particularly obligated to answer my phone regardless of who is calling, but I love having the voice yelling at me that it’s a toxic caller, a feeling I always have, but seldom voice. I also now know where to go to get more free ring tones, as well as how to download them, but I have no idea how to affix them to a specific caller if that’s my choice to do.
Today, I’m going to ask my expert about not being on the internet 24/7. I understand that I’m on the AT&T network all the time, but I don’t want to be connected to my email account 24/7 and cannot find a way to log-off … yet. Once I’m shown something, I usually get it and keep it, but I cannot find this option on my own. Progress is a series of steps, not an instant ah-ha event!
I took a photo and sent it as a text attachment, no simple task! The recipient didn’t know that I have a “smart” phone, so he responded immediately, expressing awe that I actually updated from my calls-only previous phone. As I told him, the phone was free; all the other electronics I have been unable to master have cost me big bucks prior to my failure. Of course I understand that the “free” phone isn’t really free, but I’m having fun and am willing to pay a bit more to be in better contact with the people about whom I care.
The bonus is that he showed me the call log and we cleared it. I had been receiving calls that were not answered because I didn’t hear the phone “dinging,” which made people think I was incommunicado when I was just unable to answer the phone! He also showed me how to access the voice mail feature, which is hidden under the number 1 on the dialer pad. Who woulda thunk?
So far, the biggest drawback to the phone is that when I hit the phone icon, or slide my finger down the face of the phone to unlock it to answer a call, it’s answered! I want to hit the answer button as I did with my former phone, but that actually hangs up the call because the phone auto answers the calls. It’s a problem now, but I’m sure I will become accustomed to just saying hello, rather than touching anything, when I hear the theme song from CSI: SVU. Of course, I’d prefer to have Det. Stabler’s voice tell me personally I have a call coming in, so roll over and answer it, dear, but he left the show, breaking my heart in the process, so I have to settle for second-best with the theme song ring tone.
Am I smarter than my phone? Probably not, but I'm a work in progress. I feel confident that I will become a better user someday/somehow. Meanwhile, if you call me, wait for me to answer and don't give up hope if I disconnect you first and have to call back. And, if you want me to send you a text message, I can do that -- maybe in a couple of pieces, but, eventually, you'll get the whole message.
But, best of all, one person who calls me and I try to avoid now has a special sound: it’s a voice warning that a toxic call is coming in, so DON’T ANSWER YOUR PHONE. I have never felt particularly obligated to answer my phone regardless of who is calling, but I love having the voice yelling at me that it’s a toxic caller, a feeling I always have, but seldom voice. I also now know where to go to get more free ring tones, as well as how to download them, but I have no idea how to affix them to a specific caller if that’s my choice to do.
Today, I’m going to ask my expert about not being on the internet 24/7. I understand that I’m on the AT&T network all the time, but I don’t want to be connected to my email account 24/7 and cannot find a way to log-off … yet. Once I’m shown something, I usually get it and keep it, but I cannot find this option on my own. Progress is a series of steps, not an instant ah-ha event!
I took a photo and sent it as a text attachment, no simple task! The recipient didn’t know that I have a “smart” phone, so he responded immediately, expressing awe that I actually updated from my calls-only previous phone. As I told him, the phone was free; all the other electronics I have been unable to master have cost me big bucks prior to my failure. Of course I understand that the “free” phone isn’t really free, but I’m having fun and am willing to pay a bit more to be in better contact with the people about whom I care.
The bonus is that he showed me the call log and we cleared it. I had been receiving calls that were not answered because I didn’t hear the phone “dinging,” which made people think I was incommunicado when I was just unable to answer the phone! He also showed me how to access the voice mail feature, which is hidden under the number 1 on the dialer pad. Who woulda thunk?
So far, the biggest drawback to the phone is that when I hit the phone icon, or slide my finger down the face of the phone to unlock it to answer a call, it’s answered! I want to hit the answer button as I did with my former phone, but that actually hangs up the call because the phone auto answers the calls. It’s a problem now, but I’m sure I will become accustomed to just saying hello, rather than touching anything, when I hear the theme song from CSI: SVU. Of course, I’d prefer to have Det. Stabler’s voice tell me personally I have a call coming in, so roll over and answer it, dear, but he left the show, breaking my heart in the process, so I have to settle for second-best with the theme song ring tone.
Am I smarter than my phone? Probably not, but I'm a work in progress. I feel confident that I will become a better user someday/somehow. Meanwhile, if you call me, wait for me to answer and don't give up hope if I disconnect you first and have to call back. And, if you want me to send you a text message, I can do that -- maybe in a couple of pieces, but, eventually, you'll get the whole message.
Sunday, March 18, 2012
Another Stress Mess
There are things people say/do that make me nauseous, but what has put me over the top this week is the commercial for My Strange Addiction wherein a woman confesses, then demonstrates, that she drinks her urine. Yeah, my stomach just turned over as I typed that admission! What amazes me is that anyone would ever take the first sip, unless, of course, s/he were lost in the desert and dying of dehydration. In that circumstance, the need to survive makes anything acceptable, but who would ever continue that process after being saved? This woman slathers herself in her own output, moisturizing her face, styling her hair, brushing her teeth. Of course this is plain crazy, but our minds control us in ways we never think they can!
My brain has been whirling with stress for a couple of weeks, and last night was challenging as my brain filled my sleeping sub-conscious with images of a fungus growing on my hands. There were long tubular tentacles all over my palms, perhaps 4-6 inches in length, but slender so they swayed with the slightest movement. I fought all night to make them go away, tossing, turning, waking up (sort of), then going back into the nightmare. I used bleach and scrubbed for all I was worth, but the eerily white tubal growths flourished. I tried to remove them with both tweezers and stronger pliers, to no avail. Finally, I doused them with gasoline, using a cotton ball, then set my hands on fire – at which point I awoke suddenly and completely, relieved that the growths were a nightmare and burning hands were not a reality.
Adding to the sleeplessness, my phone makes soft sounds throughout the night, little pings and wind chime sounds that wake me instantly. So far, I have no idea what these sounds mean as my phone is not “ringing,” nor is there a text message or a missed call notification. It may mean that there is an email, but I think I turned off the internet access as I’ve only had the phone for about 2 weeks and am still learning how to retrieve a voice mail. I know the sounds of my life, so adding new sounds, particularly in the dark of night, is disconcerting.
Yes, the dogs and I are still walking, which usually helps me to manage my stress, but it’s so cold and windy the past several days that we’re taking short, quick walks, rather than the long, leisurely walks we’re accustomed to enjoying. A week ago, the temps were in the 80s, but we’ve had freezing rain, icy roads, and snow in the mountains, all of which are reasons to stay inside and work on craft projects.
I did, however, watch a TV movie on the Encore channel that I enjoyed on multiple levels: Country Strong, starring Gwenyth Paltrow and Tim McGraw, an excellent portrayal of human flaws and our inability to overcome what ails our lives. As much as The Descendants and its star, George Clooney, lacked any significant humanity, personal warmth, and/or honest emotion, Country Strong has it all. Throughout the film, Tim McGraw’s face tells a story of love and betrayal that hurt my heart, while George Clooney struggled for an entire film to figure out how to feel, then portray, even simple human emotion. If the eyes are the windows to our souls, Tim McGraw’s eyes are an encyclopedia of human experience.
Life goes on with us or around us. I’ll finish up the laundry, take a long, refreshing shower, and figure out how to get past this hitch in my git-along so life smoothes out and is less stressful. It’s easy to know that I create my own stress, but it’s challenging to get beyond the causes and avoid the effects. Another work in progress!
My brain has been whirling with stress for a couple of weeks, and last night was challenging as my brain filled my sleeping sub-conscious with images of a fungus growing on my hands. There were long tubular tentacles all over my palms, perhaps 4-6 inches in length, but slender so they swayed with the slightest movement. I fought all night to make them go away, tossing, turning, waking up (sort of), then going back into the nightmare. I used bleach and scrubbed for all I was worth, but the eerily white tubal growths flourished. I tried to remove them with both tweezers and stronger pliers, to no avail. Finally, I doused them with gasoline, using a cotton ball, then set my hands on fire – at which point I awoke suddenly and completely, relieved that the growths were a nightmare and burning hands were not a reality.
Adding to the sleeplessness, my phone makes soft sounds throughout the night, little pings and wind chime sounds that wake me instantly. So far, I have no idea what these sounds mean as my phone is not “ringing,” nor is there a text message or a missed call notification. It may mean that there is an email, but I think I turned off the internet access as I’ve only had the phone for about 2 weeks and am still learning how to retrieve a voice mail. I know the sounds of my life, so adding new sounds, particularly in the dark of night, is disconcerting.
Yes, the dogs and I are still walking, which usually helps me to manage my stress, but it’s so cold and windy the past several days that we’re taking short, quick walks, rather than the long, leisurely walks we’re accustomed to enjoying. A week ago, the temps were in the 80s, but we’ve had freezing rain, icy roads, and snow in the mountains, all of which are reasons to stay inside and work on craft projects.
I did, however, watch a TV movie on the Encore channel that I enjoyed on multiple levels: Country Strong, starring Gwenyth Paltrow and Tim McGraw, an excellent portrayal of human flaws and our inability to overcome what ails our lives. As much as The Descendants and its star, George Clooney, lacked any significant humanity, personal warmth, and/or honest emotion, Country Strong has it all. Throughout the film, Tim McGraw’s face tells a story of love and betrayal that hurt my heart, while George Clooney struggled for an entire film to figure out how to feel, then portray, even simple human emotion. If the eyes are the windows to our souls, Tim McGraw’s eyes are an encyclopedia of human experience.
Life goes on with us or around us. I’ll finish up the laundry, take a long, refreshing shower, and figure out how to get past this hitch in my git-along so life smoothes out and is less stressful. It’s easy to know that I create my own stress, but it’s challenging to get beyond the causes and avoid the effects. Another work in progress!
Saturday, March 17, 2012
My 10-Day Cruise in 6 Days
It's pouring rain outside and I'm making mac 'n cheese from scratch because I'm pissed off about my cruise and want comfort food. I cannot believe all the people who tell me how wonderful this cruise is, and that cruise is, and how they always book at least 2 cruises each year because it's such fun. If I had a way out of this one, I'd be staying home in May.
When a cruise ad sounds too good to be true, it is, but the truth fails to seep out until after the balance due is paid 60 days in advance of departure, a date that came one week ago. So far, my 10-day cruise to Greece (at a great initial price of only $1999) has cost me $3000 and dwindled to 6 days. I knew there would be adjustments for fuel and other travel costs, but … that additional $200 is merely the crown in the jewel of sparkling cruises gotchas.
We leave LAX on May 8 – at 9 pm, so the “first day” of our 10-day cruise package is really only 3 hours. We land in Athens at 11 pm on May 9, which is the second day of our 10-day cruise gone poof into the ether. On Day 3, we sight-see in Athens, then board the cruise ship on Day 4 for our first actual cruise. Days 5-6-7-8 are spent sightseeing in the Aegean Sea (at an additional expense to leave the ship for each of the excursions) and steaming back into Athens for the flight home, arriving at LAX on Day 10 at 7 pm. I’m basically ignorant about these kinds of travel events, so I really thought I’d be cruising for 10 days! Imagine my disappointment to discover that a total of 4 days are lost to travel and time changes.
Adding to the price, I have to pay for a shuttle to take me to the airport (currently $40) and back home (another $40 or whatever it will be 7 weeks from now), as well as for all of the exciting excursions planned by my tour company. I also have to pay a “gratuity” set by the cruise line for the staff who are hired to clean the rooms and serve the meals! In 35 years as a classroom teacher, no one has EVER paid me a penny above my salary to do the job for which I was hired, but it’s “expected” that cruise staff, as well as hotel staff for the time we are in Athens and the tour guides provided by the cruise line, are paid extra -- and we are provided with a chart that tells exactly how much to pay and to whom. The charges are significant enough that we are encouraged to use a credit card to pay them!
My $2000 cruise is going to finish off right at $4000, an increase I never saw coming. IF I ever decide to take another trip, I doubt that I will sign on for any “good deal” offered by any travel agency that specializes in affordable cruises for seniors. And I’ll never choose the local company with the outstanding reputation for "adult customized tours" as my experience with the President of the company has been disappointing. I don’t know him at all, but if he can accuse me of being “skittish” because I asked about canceling my reservation, I can charge him with arrogance! Can’t wait to meet him in person at our “welcome” brunch the week before we leave. The meet 'n greet is at my expense, of course, but attendance is strongly suggested.
I still want to travel to Alaska one of these days, but I'll figure that out without the help of a tour company! For the $4000 it's costing me for the ten days of May, I could have had a spectacular USA vacation!
When a cruise ad sounds too good to be true, it is, but the truth fails to seep out until after the balance due is paid 60 days in advance of departure, a date that came one week ago. So far, my 10-day cruise to Greece (at a great initial price of only $1999) has cost me $3000 and dwindled to 6 days. I knew there would be adjustments for fuel and other travel costs, but … that additional $200 is merely the crown in the jewel of sparkling cruises gotchas.
We leave LAX on May 8 – at 9 pm, so the “first day” of our 10-day cruise package is really only 3 hours. We land in Athens at 11 pm on May 9, which is the second day of our 10-day cruise gone poof into the ether. On Day 3, we sight-see in Athens, then board the cruise ship on Day 4 for our first actual cruise. Days 5-6-7-8 are spent sightseeing in the Aegean Sea (at an additional expense to leave the ship for each of the excursions) and steaming back into Athens for the flight home, arriving at LAX on Day 10 at 7 pm. I’m basically ignorant about these kinds of travel events, so I really thought I’d be cruising for 10 days! Imagine my disappointment to discover that a total of 4 days are lost to travel and time changes.
Adding to the price, I have to pay for a shuttle to take me to the airport (currently $40) and back home (another $40 or whatever it will be 7 weeks from now), as well as for all of the exciting excursions planned by my tour company. I also have to pay a “gratuity” set by the cruise line for the staff who are hired to clean the rooms and serve the meals! In 35 years as a classroom teacher, no one has EVER paid me a penny above my salary to do the job for which I was hired, but it’s “expected” that cruise staff, as well as hotel staff for the time we are in Athens and the tour guides provided by the cruise line, are paid extra -- and we are provided with a chart that tells exactly how much to pay and to whom. The charges are significant enough that we are encouraged to use a credit card to pay them!
My $2000 cruise is going to finish off right at $4000, an increase I never saw coming. IF I ever decide to take another trip, I doubt that I will sign on for any “good deal” offered by any travel agency that specializes in affordable cruises for seniors. And I’ll never choose the local company with the outstanding reputation for "adult customized tours" as my experience with the President of the company has been disappointing. I don’t know him at all, but if he can accuse me of being “skittish” because I asked about canceling my reservation, I can charge him with arrogance! Can’t wait to meet him in person at our “welcome” brunch the week before we leave. The meet 'n greet is at my expense, of course, but attendance is strongly suggested.
I still want to travel to Alaska one of these days, but I'll figure that out without the help of a tour company! For the $4000 it's costing me for the ten days of May, I could have had a spectacular USA vacation!
Friday, March 9, 2012
SHA-ZAMMM
Thoughts popping into my brain regarding my rights v your rights:
I don't want to see any pregnant woman naked at any time and/or for any reason. If you think that's beautiful, good for you, but I think a naked pregnant woman should exist only behind closed doors or on a delivery table for the professionals who signed on to see it. However, Jessica Simpson's naked pregnant body is on the TV and computer screens, as well as the supermarket tabloids, so whether I want to see that intimate moment in Simpson's life or not, I am shown it any time of the day or night that I go to the grocery store or someone chooses to put it on the screens of my TV and my computer. Comparing photos of Jessica's naked pregnant body to photos of Demi's naked pregnant body, then discussing the artistic beauty of the photos, doesn't work for me either. What your pregnant body looks like is between you and your mirror: I cannot fathom that you want me (or any stranger) to know what you look like naked!
Ditto: nursing mothers. Sure, it's natural to breast feed an infant, but your brazenly naked breast, even with a child sucking on it, makes me nauseous when it's exposed in public. Really. When I'm out and about, I'm not there to see nudity. I want my cup of coffee without your baby's milk as part of the experience! What if a man wants to take out his junque and let it dangle about a bit? That's natural, and to some people it may even be beautiful, but it's against the law because no one wants to see what you've got under your clothes while they are dining, walking on a sidewalk, sitting in a mall, or taking part in other public activities. What you do in the privacy of your own life is just that: private. Your business; not mine. However, what you do in public becomes my business whether I want it to or not, and believe me, I don't want to become part of your private business!
Yes, if I were an aborigine living in a tribe isolated somewhere in a primitive jungle setting, I MAY feel differently about both male and female nudity, but I'm not and I don't. You may have your right to display your private parts, but what about my right not to be exposed to them in public places? Notice the emphasis on "public" places v "private" places. Keep your private parts private when you are in public places. Please.
If medical insurance providers pay for male sexual performance enhancers, euphemistically prescribed as "erectile dysfunction" medication, as part of their coverage, then they also need to cover women's pregnancy protection medication. Men receive condoms free from the government, but women have to pay out-of-pocket for appropriate "pregnancy protection"? Tit for tat; sauce for the goose/gander; use whatever justification you need to figure out that equality means we are all treated equally, not that all men are treated better than any woman. A man's erectile dysfunction may be personally devastating, but a woman's unwanted pregnancy can become society's long-term economic problem.
Locally, believe it or not, there is a male individual molesting females along a stretch of poorly-lighted city street, This criminal activity has been going on for the past 18 months, but local law enforcement is just now revealing that fact, as well as that there are at least 3 dozen known victims. I'm thinking that street lighting could have been installed, patrols could have been stepped up, decoys could have been used, and/or media coverage could have begun after the first dozen women were victimized by this creep. Not only could the molester be off the streets, but a whole lot of women victimized by him would not have to live the rest of their lives with the emotional devastation of this sexual attack. Why on earth would anyone wait for almost 2 years and 3 dozen victims to do something, anything to stop this criminal?
If I ruled the world ... .
I don't want to see any pregnant woman naked at any time and/or for any reason. If you think that's beautiful, good for you, but I think a naked pregnant woman should exist only behind closed doors or on a delivery table for the professionals who signed on to see it. However, Jessica Simpson's naked pregnant body is on the TV and computer screens, as well as the supermarket tabloids, so whether I want to see that intimate moment in Simpson's life or not, I am shown it any time of the day or night that I go to the grocery store or someone chooses to put it on the screens of my TV and my computer. Comparing photos of Jessica's naked pregnant body to photos of Demi's naked pregnant body, then discussing the artistic beauty of the photos, doesn't work for me either. What your pregnant body looks like is between you and your mirror: I cannot fathom that you want me (or any stranger) to know what you look like naked!
Ditto: nursing mothers. Sure, it's natural to breast feed an infant, but your brazenly naked breast, even with a child sucking on it, makes me nauseous when it's exposed in public. Really. When I'm out and about, I'm not there to see nudity. I want my cup of coffee without your baby's milk as part of the experience! What if a man wants to take out his junque and let it dangle about a bit? That's natural, and to some people it may even be beautiful, but it's against the law because no one wants to see what you've got under your clothes while they are dining, walking on a sidewalk, sitting in a mall, or taking part in other public activities. What you do in the privacy of your own life is just that: private. Your business; not mine. However, what you do in public becomes my business whether I want it to or not, and believe me, I don't want to become part of your private business!
Yes, if I were an aborigine living in a tribe isolated somewhere in a primitive jungle setting, I MAY feel differently about both male and female nudity, but I'm not and I don't. You may have your right to display your private parts, but what about my right not to be exposed to them in public places? Notice the emphasis on "public" places v "private" places. Keep your private parts private when you are in public places. Please.
If medical insurance providers pay for male sexual performance enhancers, euphemistically prescribed as "erectile dysfunction" medication, as part of their coverage, then they also need to cover women's pregnancy protection medication. Men receive condoms free from the government, but women have to pay out-of-pocket for appropriate "pregnancy protection"? Tit for tat; sauce for the goose/gander; use whatever justification you need to figure out that equality means we are all treated equally, not that all men are treated better than any woman. A man's erectile dysfunction may be personally devastating, but a woman's unwanted pregnancy can become society's long-term economic problem.
Locally, believe it or not, there is a male individual molesting females along a stretch of poorly-lighted city street, This criminal activity has been going on for the past 18 months, but local law enforcement is just now revealing that fact, as well as that there are at least 3 dozen known victims. I'm thinking that street lighting could have been installed, patrols could have been stepped up, decoys could have been used, and/or media coverage could have begun after the first dozen women were victimized by this creep. Not only could the molester be off the streets, but a whole lot of women victimized by him would not have to live the rest of their lives with the emotional devastation of this sexual attack. Why on earth would anyone wait for almost 2 years and 3 dozen victims to do something, anything to stop this criminal?
If I ruled the world ... .
Tuesday, March 6, 2012
No Rhyme nor Reason
The Voice baffles me because I thought the premise is that the person with the best voice eventually wins; however, last night, the first of the “battle” nights, a couple of the final 24 stayed in the game after less than wowful performances. Blake Sheldon apparently was overwhelmed with nostalgia when he kept the 17-tear-old bleached-blonde waif who reminded him of a “young Miranda” because the contestant clearly is a shower singer who struggled to make it through the (battle) song, not a stage dynamo who can hold her own without Daddy Blake’s help. And, ah, wasn’t it cute that the former Mouseketeer won his round with a lot of stage presence, but an average “commercial” voice, after Christina confirmed that he worked at Disney with her, Justin, and Britney? Talk about prejudicing the outcome!
What I picked up is that the battles are staged to manipulate who goes to the finals, rather than on the present public performance. Because the coach has already decided which of the two contestants will go to the next round before the performance begins, the actual stage performance does not matter. Thus, in two of the battles last night, the strongest performance lost the battle because the coach wants the other performer to continue the process, perhaps to become a toss-away at a later date. This strategy is okay if that’s how everyone plays the game, but how does this work for the contestants who believe that the best Voice wins each week, as well as at the end of the contest?
Why does overt manipulation become covert strategy and personal bias serve as impartial judgment? Singers are literally a dime a dozen in today’s market, so who cares which singer out-sings another singer when it’s ultimately all about which coach wins? The four coaches could skip the elimination process and just pit their favorites against each other in a winner-take-all battle and save the contestants a lot of time, energy, and anguish.
Ditto The Bachelor, who, I guess, picks the dreaded psycho bitch who stripped naked for a quick ocean dip early on, the one female all the others hate. What did he see in her other than quick/easy/no cost sex? Is that really the way men select a wife or just the way guys put another notch on their personal bedpost? How would it feel for the world to know for the rest of your life that you’re just a quick, easy lay who used sex to make a name for yourself on a TV show? How would it feel for the rest of your life to reveal to the world that you picked your spouse on a TV show because s/he was sexually available?
There are parts of our lives that need to be kept private; as I used to hear, “Fool’s names, like fool’s faces, always show up in public places,” a warning to think about what you want to do BEFORE you do it.
Perhaps Lush (spelling intended) Limbaugh could have taken another nanosecond to think about his word usage before he condemned a young woman as a slut because she thinks her medical insurance provider should cover the cost of female birth control; after all, government sponsored clinics hand out free male birth control: condoms. Not to beat a dead horse, but Lush opens his mouth all the time without self-censoring, so why would this comment be different? He apparently fails to understand that if his insurance company pays for his male sexual performance enhancing pills, it should also pay for a woman’s birth control. Ultimately, not paying for woman’s birth control leads to society paying for the abortions, the births, and the cost of public programs to support the women and their children when the men pull off the (free) condom, zip up and walk away after ejaculation.
While listening to the Sirius radio that came with my RAV, I realized that many of the regular commentators use the Sirius option to say “fuck” and other obscenities with impunity and laugh about it. Hey, man, you don’t have to censor what you say: it’s public radio! Look at Coward, Imus and Lush, man, radio personalities with no self-censor mechanism in place who established the standard for all those who follow! It’s analogous to using the bitch-slapping women on The View to establish the standard for all women panelists on TV talk shows! There is a demographic that doesn’t want to hear the constant bickering, the shrill, screaming women trying to establish vocal dominance, nor the self-righteous justification from the outspoken arbiter of all things racist, especially in defining who can use the word “nigger” (all black people) and who may not (anyone who is not black) and, in the process, confirming that racism is alive and thriving on The View!
There is no rhyme nor reason in today’s society, no strong ethical foundation upon which we all depend for knowing what’s right and what’s wrong – nor the reasons why we need to know that difference. We don’t take the time to think before we act, and there is no way to say sorry for much of what we say and do, so we have become a litigious society that demands cash remuneration for the least, as well as the most offensive remarks and behaviors. It’s only a matter of time before one of these early-off TV contestants takes a copy of the TV broadcast to court to demand payment for damages incurred when their coach picked the lesser talent/performance and denied them a potentiall profitable professional career.
__________
And, there may be no rhyme nor reason for my thoughts this morning! Just thinkin' and sayin' while I maybe should be doin'!
What I picked up is that the battles are staged to manipulate who goes to the finals, rather than on the present public performance. Because the coach has already decided which of the two contestants will go to the next round before the performance begins, the actual stage performance does not matter. Thus, in two of the battles last night, the strongest performance lost the battle because the coach wants the other performer to continue the process, perhaps to become a toss-away at a later date. This strategy is okay if that’s how everyone plays the game, but how does this work for the contestants who believe that the best Voice wins each week, as well as at the end of the contest?
Why does overt manipulation become covert strategy and personal bias serve as impartial judgment? Singers are literally a dime a dozen in today’s market, so who cares which singer out-sings another singer when it’s ultimately all about which coach wins? The four coaches could skip the elimination process and just pit their favorites against each other in a winner-take-all battle and save the contestants a lot of time, energy, and anguish.
Ditto The Bachelor, who, I guess, picks the dreaded psycho bitch who stripped naked for a quick ocean dip early on, the one female all the others hate. What did he see in her other than quick/easy/no cost sex? Is that really the way men select a wife or just the way guys put another notch on their personal bedpost? How would it feel for the world to know for the rest of your life that you’re just a quick, easy lay who used sex to make a name for yourself on a TV show? How would it feel for the rest of your life to reveal to the world that you picked your spouse on a TV show because s/he was sexually available?
There are parts of our lives that need to be kept private; as I used to hear, “Fool’s names, like fool’s faces, always show up in public places,” a warning to think about what you want to do BEFORE you do it.
Perhaps Lush (spelling intended) Limbaugh could have taken another nanosecond to think about his word usage before he condemned a young woman as a slut because she thinks her medical insurance provider should cover the cost of female birth control; after all, government sponsored clinics hand out free male birth control: condoms. Not to beat a dead horse, but Lush opens his mouth all the time without self-censoring, so why would this comment be different? He apparently fails to understand that if his insurance company pays for his male sexual performance enhancing pills, it should also pay for a woman’s birth control. Ultimately, not paying for woman’s birth control leads to society paying for the abortions, the births, and the cost of public programs to support the women and their children when the men pull off the (free) condom, zip up and walk away after ejaculation.
While listening to the Sirius radio that came with my RAV, I realized that many of the regular commentators use the Sirius option to say “fuck” and other obscenities with impunity and laugh about it. Hey, man, you don’t have to censor what you say: it’s public radio! Look at Coward, Imus and Lush, man, radio personalities with no self-censor mechanism in place who established the standard for all those who follow! It’s analogous to using the bitch-slapping women on The View to establish the standard for all women panelists on TV talk shows! There is a demographic that doesn’t want to hear the constant bickering, the shrill, screaming women trying to establish vocal dominance, nor the self-righteous justification from the outspoken arbiter of all things racist, especially in defining who can use the word “nigger” (all black people) and who may not (anyone who is not black) and, in the process, confirming that racism is alive and thriving on The View!
There is no rhyme nor reason in today’s society, no strong ethical foundation upon which we all depend for knowing what’s right and what’s wrong – nor the reasons why we need to know that difference. We don’t take the time to think before we act, and there is no way to say sorry for much of what we say and do, so we have become a litigious society that demands cash remuneration for the least, as well as the most offensive remarks and behaviors. It’s only a matter of time before one of these early-off TV contestants takes a copy of the TV broadcast to court to demand payment for damages incurred when their coach picked the lesser talent/performance and denied them a potentiall profitable professional career.
__________
And, there may be no rhyme nor reason for my thoughts this morning! Just thinkin' and sayin' while I maybe should be doin'!
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