The Facebook Experience

Several months ago, I decided to use FB on a daily basis to help with my cognition issues.  I get to read posts, respond to those that seem to want a response, and feel connected with other people outside of my four walls.  At first, it was kinda fun, especially when I recognized names from my teaching days. I made it my mission to write positive responses where warranted, like other posts, and ignore some of the more gross posts.

Why, I wondered, do people use such foul language and write such nasty things on a public forum? The cusswords abound even where they aren't necessary. People write about intimate things that I would keep private. They throw verbal stones at anyone who doesn't agree with them, and disparage people who write honest posts about their lives and the challenges they are having just getting through the days.

I was naïve when I made the decision to participate in FB.  I actually thought it would be a positive experience, and, in many instances, it has been.  I've enjoyed hearing from former students and learning about their now lives.  I have been able to see what my family members are doing in their lives without having to write long letters back and forth. I've enjoyed seeing photos of the comings and goings of people I know, but am not friends with present day. But I've been completely turned off by the grossness of perhaps as much as one-third of the content.

Today, I'm thinking about whether I want to continue to visit Facebook or let it go.  Part of me wants to stay connected with former students and family members, but the other part of me wants to let go of the offensive nature of the Facebook experience. I'm taking today off as a think-about day and then will make my decision whether to continue to visit the site or let it go.

The Spoken Word

Listening to a talk show interview caught my attention for the manner of speaking throughout the conversation. The actress talked about not doing something “as of yet,” which I’m not sure actually has any meaning. She was in “close proximity” to a friend, which is redundant because proximity means closeness. She assured the interviewer that “I, myself” had never done something another actor had done. And throughout the interview repeated, “it’s like, yeah” before finishing the thought.

I’m not sure why this type of conversation is so popular among young people, but it is fingernails on a chalkboard to me! Of course, all chalkboards are now whiteboards, so this young speaker would have no idea what I meant by that critique :-). 

Three Strikes Weren’t Enough

There is a lace patterned shawl I want to make and I have the yarn for it, as well as the desire to spend the time to do the job well. Yesterday, I grabbed my crochet hook, the yarn, and the pattern, and set off on this new journey. I carefully followed the directions, reading it, then rereading it as I began the crochet. I had the bright crafts light on, was wearing my reading glasses, and felt confident that this was going to be a pleasurable experience that ends with a beautiful finished shawl.

After ripping it out a total of five times, I decided that I was done with this project. I know what the pattern says to do – and I’m pretty sure that’s what I’m doing – but it did not turn out correctly five times in a row. Usually, it only takes three strikes to strike out, but I gave it to five before saying that’s it. All done.

Juxtaposition

"Wedding dress" and "sexy" don’t belong next to one another in a bride’s description of how she wants to look on her special day. Assuring the store personnel that the bride wants to “show off my girls” in a plunging neckline is the wrong image, especially for a church wedding. Black brides are fond of “dropping it like it’s hot” to see whether the gown is tight enough over the (sometimes already far too bodacious)booty.

While I can understand that bridal gowns of years past may be too modest for today's bride, there has to be a middle ground between no peeking at private parts and showing the whole world what you’re bringing into the marital bedroom!

The TSA Shooter

The coverage of the TSA shooting brings questions to mind, such as why were so few shots fired and so few people involved? It seems that the shooter had “suicide by cop” in mind when he took his semi-auto rifle into the airport where literally hundreds of targets were available but left uninjured. When he shot and killed one TSA employee and wounded another, he took off running – not shooting at other TSA agents. He had spare magazines of ammo with him, but he didn’t senselessly spray the target-rich environment with bullets.

He simply took off running until the cops caught up with him and brought him down in a hail of bullets.

Thus, I think his goal was suicide by cop – which failed, as he survived 4 gunshots to his chest area.

I Don’t Get It

Today’s bride wants to look sexy by making sure her “girls” are falling out of the bodice of a really low-cut strapless gown and her butt is tightly hugged by the cut of the gown. Big globules of bouncing fat on the way up the aisle and a broad beam plowing its way back down it. Not pretty.

Why does President Obama take it personally so often? Some legislators are voting for what the people want, not trying to “get” the president. Presidents are supposed to be presidential, not petty.

Why would anyone write that a person is filled with anxiousness when the correct word is so much simpler: anxiety.

If former students have money for clubbing and booze, why can’t they make payments on their student loans? Instead of spending $100/week on fun, send the money to the lender and pay down the debt by $5200/annually.

Why does my neighbor become upset with me when I live my life without consulting her about where I go, what I do, or with whom I am at any given moment?

I don't answer my house phone until/unless the machine tells me someone I know is calling. I decide which calls to answer: if you're on the other end representing a telemarketing firm, tough. It's not rude; it's my phone.

Street Work

The asphalt pavement has been removed from my street by a huge piece of machinery designed to do that prior to the installation of sewer lines and then sidewalks and curbs. The ground shakes as if we’re having a minor earthquake and the rumble of the powerful engines makes it impossible to hear anything else. What I had not counted on was having my asthma triggered by the removal process.

I have both asthma and chronic bronchial issues that are triggered by certain odors, including both nail polish and polish remover, and most household cleaners and solvents. My cleaning lady uses white vinegar, which not only cleans well, but it does not leave a fragrance behind. I can burn unscented candles, but those with scents have to be selected carefully. Incense is not an option, nor are odors in confined spaces, such as fragrances in my vehicle.

Churning up the asphalt in the removal process must also involve heating it because I have been choking on the odor of heated asphalt since the machinery began its journey down my street. Once the process is completed, there is just dirt left in the roadway, which is fine. Piping is going to be laid before the roads are repaved, and I’m not sure how long the process will take to finish, but I've closed up the house and will make the best of it.

SPLASH!!

I watched the first episode of Splash and think the first 2 divers got a bad call. At the beginning, both Kesha and Katherine Webb did more difficult dives than the 3 men who followed, but they received the lowest scores (in the 6s)because they went first – and the 2 male judges had no idea how badly the following 3 men would dive. As it was, a 400-pound man who toppled over and fell into the water, scored a full point higher than either of the first 2 women who did “something” dives that showed a semblance of skill.

Although the womens' dives were equal to or better than the 3 male divers who dove after them, Kesha had to leave, but Katherine was saved, so she will dive again.

All 12 contestants should have dived a first time before any scores were given that would eliminate anyone. The technique of each contestant could be evaluated in the first round, with pointers for improving performances given by the judges. Then, let the competition begin with a baseline performance index guiding the judges' scoring.

I’m not going to watch further episodes of this reality show because it isn’t interesting or entertaining, and it’s also unfairly scored.

Another Oprah Survey

What is ...

the best advice I ever received is to try before determining whether I could or could not do something, or simply won't even try.

the best childhood memory is Uncle Nils's barbeques, complete with a homemade kite for his namesake, Nils.

my best guilty pleasure is a fresh box of See's candy.

my best souvenir is the tablecloth I bought in Greece and put under glass on my dining nook table.

my favorite hobby is cake decorating, which I really enjoy, but seldom do these days.

the best gift I ever received is one that was spontaneous and unexpected, a pair of pearl earrings with sapphires set in a ring around the pearl, that my Mother gave me for my 50th birthday and which I gave to my daughter on her recent marriage.

my biggest vice is eating sweets instead of a meal.

Oprah’s Snapshots

O Magazine uses "complete this thought" ideas to get response from a wide variety of people. If she were to ask me, I'd say ...

1. One flaw I wouldn’t change about myself is my enthusiasm for talking to anyone, anywhere, anytime about anything.
2. My quickest stress reliever is a cup of coffee.
3. My most peaceful place is anywhere along the coastline, a river, or a lake.
4. My favorite comfort food is roast leg of lamb, accompanied by mashed potatoes and lamb gravy with broccoli hollandaise. Second best is homemade mac 'n lots of cheese, served piping hot and melty gooey.
5. When I’m feeling anxious, I call no one; instead, I write.

It's Shorthand for Life

It’s a form of shorthand for remembering key ideas, and some well-known acronyms are commonplace in our language, such as SNAFU (Situation Normal/ All F---ed Up), SCUBA gear (Self-Contained Underwater Breathing Apparatus), 24/7/365 (24 hours a day, 7 days a week, 365 days a year). We have LALL (Living And Loving Life), as well as CAVU (Ceiling And Visibility Unlimited). In this same vein, we have become accustomed to using key words to capture our life: Eat, Pray, Love; Live, Laugh, Love. Sometimes, it's just easier to use the key words/phrases than it is to process the question and then respond in a meaningful manner.

Lots of people use the word “fine” to respond when asked, “How are you?”, but the folks at Betty Ford say that’s an acronym for “Fucked Up, Insecure, Neurotic, and Escalating,” an interesting twist of shorthand. According to The Italian Job, “fine” means “Freaked Out, Insecure, Neurotic, and Emotional.” Sometimes, fine is just a shorthand way of saying, “I don’t want to talk about it,” or “My life is so fucked up right now that I don’t think I can talk about it.”

I was impressed with the brief comments made by the quarterback of the Kansas City Chiefs, a football team trying to get a handle on two deaths attributed to one of their players, his own suicide and the homicide of his live-in girlfriend, who was also his 3-month-old child’s mother. According to news reports, they had been dealing for many months with the stress of the professional football career demands, as well as personal relationship issues and financial matters. It all came to a head last Saturday with the two violent deaths, to which the quarterback responded in a press conference that we don’t really communicate with the people in our lives. We tweet what other people want to believe and we say the words that others want to hear, but we seldom, if ever, put down our electronic “social media” connections and really connect with people, both to talk with and listen to the people in our lives.

When we ask, “how ya doin?” and they respond “fine,” we both move on. What more is there to say?

I’m seeing a psychotherapist because my past caught up to my present and the resulting collision was unnerving. I am bi-polar, which is a chemical imbalance within my body, so sometimes I’m up (way, way up) and other times I’m down (way, way down), while other times I’m “fine.” I grew up in a family that didn’t talk about that, no matter what the “that” was, and we didn’t do that, again no matter what the “that” was. I learned to keep my own issues to myself, but because of my body chemistry, that was the worst thing I could do – and things found their own way out no matter how much I tried to keep them inside. Seldom was I “fine,” meaning okay, but more often I was “Freaked Out, Insecure, Neurotic, and Escalating.” I became fairly good at masking my behaviors, but everyone has to remove the mask sooner or later, ready or not.

Today, I had my weekly visit with Jennifer, who is a good therapist for me. I asked her if she was more “eat, pray, love” or “live laugh love,” and she chose the latter as being more positive, more out there, which is what I thought she’d say. She agreed with my choice, “eat, pray, love,” based on the several months we’ve been getting to know one another. I do pray, but not fervently or endlessly, and I prayed yesterday while I was driving to San Diego to see an elderly friend of mine. I just wanted our time together to be good because my friend has steadily deteriorated during the last several months. I spoke with her Sunday morning and enjoyed her upbeat, positive reaction to the fact that I was coming down. Of course, she had a list of things we were going to do.

When I arrived, my worst fear was realized: she had another “mini-stroke” Sunday and this time, it was openly obvious with the blank facial affect, the constant drooling, and her inability to process conversation and respond to it. Although I doubted the wisdom of our going out and about, she insisted, so that’s what we did. It was “fine,” but filled with the stress of knowing her physical condition was not stabilized nor steady from one minute to the next. She would begin to speak, then stop and drift off somewhere other than in the present. I returned her to her residence, tucked her in for a nap, gave her a hug and told her I love her, then drove back home knowing that was probably our last visit.

She’s supposed to be leaving today for holiday time with her daughter and son-in-law, but I doubt she can make that trip. If she does get to Colorado, I doubt she’ll return to California once her family sees the deterioration. They will want her closer to them so they can share what time is left.

The holidays are a difficult time for me in a good year, and I will do my best to enjoy this joyful season this year, too. I do love the food of celebration and I love cooking it as much as I enjoy eating it, so that will take my mind off the negatives. It’s challenging to believe that the year 2013 is so few days away, and my goal for the new year is to do at least one “something” that I enjoy, want to do, and can afford each month. This includes both a visit to Oregon and another visit to Canada, as well as shorter visits to friends who live in Nevada and Wyoming. If retirement is about travel, I’m about to travel!

To be continued … maybe

A Quick Aside

I don't watch either O'Reilly or Hannity because both men have a general tendency to be Johnny One Note, harping on their side of any issue and obliterating anyone with a different opinion. However, I've watched network news and been concerned about the overwhelmingly positive media coverage of President Obama's lavish campaigning activities, from posh Hollywood parties to the ladies of The View and onto the couches of the late night's biggest names. Never has any serving President enjoyed such overt media fawning as the current President, who uses the media as his own personal PR office.

I decided this evening to see what's up with the radicals, and I must say that I'm impressed with the stories I haven't seen/heard anywhere else, including the attack on the embassy at Benghazi and who knew what, when, and why. Basically, the key American government players were in the White House SitRoom, watching in real time the attacks on American citizens at the embassy in Benghazi, and emails sent within the first two hours of the attacks made it clear that this was a planned terrorist attack and included a call for help that was never sent to them. There were those who escaped to other parts of the embassy compound and continued to fight for their lives while awaiting the help they called for, but which never came. This includes two Navy Seals who lost their lives seven hours after the initial attack, a very big window of opportunity for fellow Seals to arrive and effect escape.

Anyone who wants to know what it is like to be afraid for one's life as an American citizen in a foreign country should see Argo, a deja vu flash-forward from 1979 and a similar incident to what happened this month at the American Embassy in Benghazi. Had not one man, an "ex-fil" specialist played by Ben Afflect, been committed to saving those American lives, they, too, would have died in service to their country. The film is very well done and more than timely in its message.

I also listened more carefully to DL Hughley, a comedian and guest of Bill O'Reilly, who took great pains to clarify racism for me and other viewers. If a white candidate indicates that the President of the United States may not be telling the whole truth, and nothing but the truth, that is dispicable and racist -- the white man calling out the black man. However, if the first African American President of the United States repeatedly tells his white opponent that he is not telling the truth and is, in fact, a liar, that's just good politics reflective of the office the A-A opponent holds. Language is no longer universal, but bound in meaning and intent by the color of the skin of the user?

My mind was thinking about geese, gander, and sauces in this land of the free, home of the brave.

Games People Play

I am not a gamer; as a matter of fact, I don't like playing games. However, I am a recently-retired senior citizen who needs to maintain mental acuity, rather than vegetate, so I turned to Yahoo games for some brain and coordination stimulation. There are several games I enjoy, most recently the Marble Train, which is akin to Zuma, which used to be free but now requires not just a purchase, but a financial and trust commitment to a website that I don't want invading my computer.

This past week, I discovered Yahoo's FITZ!, and it's evil. The directions are generic: match 3 icons to move through the various levels. When the icons are brightly colored, it's easy to see them, but when the colors are gone and the whole page is white on white, it's really, really challenging to discern the various shapes and positions next to one another. I'm always slow as I search the icons for my next move, so the program flashes my next move at me long before I've ruled out further moves on my own! When I take the computer's advice, I have no idea why I didn't see that move myself -- before the computer takes over my game and plays it for me.

At one point, Level Six I believe, I could not get the level completed, although all the tiles except one were white and I had consecutive moves constantly. Of course, one of my moves could result in a dozen computer moves as the icons moved onto the board in an endless stream or only changed by one or two at the top. I finally figured out that I "should have" been able to "do something" to affect the icons surrounding the one that was still colored, but how does that happen?

Luck: there is no skill involved. The computer is programmed and I'm fumbling my way through the icons; of course the computer is going to win. If I win, it's sheer luck because I have no idea what I'm doing, why I'm doing it, or how to do it differently to affect the outcome. I did make it through Level Eight without knowing how to play the game and/or affect the outcome, but that was enough game-play to last me the rest of this lifetime.

A value in playing these games is that the player has to use trial and error to know what to do next time, as well as what not to do. Problem-solving is a mental skill of basing decisions on knowing what works and what does not. However, no matter how often someone else tells, for instance, an employee how to do the job correctly to avoid a costly/ dangerous/ fatal mistake, the employee doesn't learn until s/he does it incorrectly and has to handle the consequences. It may be valuable to teach that lesson in a game, but there is a difference between making endless mistakes in a game that allows a continuous stream of do-overs and making a fatal mistake in real time that changes everything for everyone forever.

Although we encourage ourselves, as well as students and employees, to think outside the box, sometimes, life's answer is "because I said so," rather than an endless stream of options that don't work in a search to find the one that wins the game.

The Harder They Fall

I'm not big on conspiracy theory, but that doesn't mean there aren't conspiracies, of which one may be the Fall of Facebook. It intrigues me that Mark Z, a self-admitted ass who dared anyone to challenge him, could hold himself so far above other mere mortals, seemingly bullet-proof, waiting until he chose the time, the place, and the conditions for going public with his company, and have it end in complete and utter humiliation.

Almost as if the Winkelvoss twins master-minded the entire take-down! Pistachios be damned: the boys couldn't win big in a court of law, but they could, with their generations of family resources, win in the marketplace. And that's the only place winning matters: the wallet.

Mark and his new bride have fallen far, but my mother always said that the bigger they are, the harder they fall. People who put themselves above others need what used to be called a comeuppance, a personal take-down to put life into a different perspective, one that sees both sides of success, rather than just the "I won" side. Even Charlie Sheen had to admit that if the only person who believes he is winning is himself, it's not winning: it's losing. People who use other people seem to get what's coming to them, sooner or later, and sometimes, it's a hard hit, much harder than anyone imagined it could be.

Facebook will survive because it defines not just a generation, but a new societal model of interaction that is vital to many people living lives of quiet desperation. Society's lost people find each other on Facebook, sitting isolated in their living spaces and "friending" complete strangers to build a profile of likeability that they can never achieve in the world outside their bedroom doors. People remake themselves into the image they wish they were, refusing to accept personal limitations in favor of public fantasies. People who seldom were featured in their high school yearbooks recreate themselves through their own personal "facebook," a fantasy that appeals even to the most secure over-achiever for whom there never can be enough acclaim.

The stock will rebound; Facebook will go on; but, perhaps, there is a life lesson learned in the process that will change the dynamics of the "I"-centered generation responsible for its creation.

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.

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 ... .

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'!

Quick Question

Why do people not seem to realize that it's a bad idea to take provocative nude photos of themselves? If the photo is not taken, it cannot "accidentally" end up anywhere the subject of the photo does not intend it to be. Thus, the teacher/coach who "accidentally" posted a provocative nude photo of himself on FACEBOOK (for crying out loud!) would still not only have his job, but also his self-respect.

Ditto: sex tapes! Really: anyone thinks making a sex tape is a good idea and believes that both participants will keep that a private matter? Yeah, like that's going to happen, especially if the relationship ends (badly or otherwise). The sex tape can become revenge or some pretty gross free advertising for the parties involved.

Keep your clothes on and you don't have to worry about what if.

Near-sighted or Simply Blind?

For the past 10 days or so, I’ve watched what’s going on in Athens, the first stop on my retirement cruise to Greece. People are violently rioting in the streets, smashing windows, starting fires, and seemingly unwilling to stop the violence until stability returns to Greece's economy. Officials are fighting back with all the enforcement mechanisms at their disposal, but the violence has continued to escalate with each passing day, so I decided over the weekend to contact the travel agency and ask if I should be concerned about my May cruise departure.

Imagine my surprise when the first responder, a woman, was stunned into silence with the mention of “violence in Greece.” You know that moment of silence, when, as the caller, you ask, “Are you still there?” She acknowledged that she was still on the line, but an unexpected click was followed by a male voice introducing himself to me and asking if he could help me. “Yes,” I answered. “What happened to the woman who answered the phone?”

He told me that I (evidently) have a question that she felt he could answer better than she, so she transferred me – without making me aware of her decision to do so. I asked him my question: I’ve been watching the violence in Greece escalate for about 10 days, with it becoming out of control over the weekend, including rioting, fire bombings, and shootings in the streets of Athens, the first stop on my May cruise. Is this violence, combined with the financial problems that may lead Greece into bankruptcy, going to affect my cruise?

Again, the stunned silence, followed by an absolute denial of any of the issues I had just described. As a matter of fact, he slightly laughed, he explained that what’s going on in Greece is just like the US’s Occupy rallies: harmless, non-violent, and nothing to worry about.

This time, I am stunned silent. “Really?” I finally asked. “Have you watched any TV news over the past 10 days or listened to the radio at all? What’s going on in Greece is far beyond the US Occupy protests of senior citizens standing on street corners and asking passersby to honk if they support the cause!”

The man admitted that he doesn’t watch much TV; instead, he relies on the State Department to provide the agency with necessary information about worldwide violence that could affect one of their overseas trips. And, he assured me, because I purchased trip insurance, I won’t lose anything if the trip is cancelled.

Lucky me, I guess, but I’d feel so much better if the travel agency had a better handle on what’s going on in the world, rather than worrying only whether it will cost them revenue if they have to cancel my trip to Greece the first of May!! My final payment is due March 8, so I’m going to do some thinking about this until then and decide whether to cancel my reservation.

Just Another Game

The Super Bowl has become just another football game: regardless of how well the teams play during the season, one team dominates the other in the final game of the season and the other looks inept. Tom Brady is a much better quarterback than yesterday’s game showcased, so it’s embarrassing to have to be "losing quarterback Tom Brady" for the coming season! Eli Manning stepped up to the plate and scored the homerun, but so what? who cares? I’d already seen all of the “hot, new commercials” a dozen times, the half-time show was like watching a bad foreign film without subtitles, and the actual football game was tedious. My vote? Take the “super” out of the bowl and just end the darned season already.

I did, on another track, receive a phone call from the manager of the McDonald’s at which I purchased the nastiest Angus mushroom burger ever. I complained at the chain’s website, provided the specific details of the outlet location, and figured nothing would come of it. My suggestion to the manager is to forget the mushrooms as they are not a product that does fast food well. Mine were black, shriveled, and slimy, not an appetizing accoutrement to any burger, so I threw the whole thing into the trash. It also featured Swiss cheese, although I said several times that I don’t eat Swiss cheese and requested yellow cheese instead. I don’t remember which fast food joint offers to do it my way, but it’s not Mickey D’s.

My Saturday plan was to attend the food truck event downtown, featuring 40 assorted food trucks accompanied by stars from the cooking shows (my favorite weekend pleasure), but 9,999 other people had the same thought. No parking; no easy access; and long, long lines at all the trucks. With an entrance fee of $10 to attend the event, then the cost of food (and calories) extra, I decided to return home and knit headbands for my dotter. Her ears get cold, but she isn’t a hat fan, so I made her an assortment that she can try for the coming cold spell the weather reporters keep predicting. If they work, fine, I can make more, but if they don’t, the ear warmers are easy to make and use up bits ‘n pieces from my stash of multiple boxes of yarn hidden in the guestroom closet.

My Discover card people contacted me again to remind me that Amazon.com is using my outdated card. Yep, I know that, and I keep changing the info on the appropriate page in the website, but evidently Amazon’s amazing technology does not allow for change. Guess I’ll have to switch out the card and delete the Discover card altogether.

Been watching movies at the theatre with my movie buddies, so have seen some outstanding movies, such as Albert Nobbs and Iron Lady, as well as a cute chick flick, One for the Money. Janet Evanovich has written a series (current: Explosive Eighteen) of TRNs (Trashy Romance Novels) that feature a female protagonist, Stephanie Plum, who jumps into a job as a bounty hunter because her cousin has a bail bond business and Stephanie always needs money. The setting is New Jersey, the family is Plum crazy, and it’s both the characters and the romance that help the series be so engaging. The major conflict is between Stephanie, her former boyfriend, Morelli, and the hot, really hot mystery man, Ranger, whose business is personal security. Throughout the 18 books in the series, I’ve taken sides, deciding that Morelli is a commitment, Ranger is for as long as he’s interested, and Stephanie is enjoying both at her whim, as well as theirs. What’s funny is that they both know they are sometimes almost simutaneously enjoying Stephanie in a carnal manner, but don’t seem to be as upset about that as I think they should be. Stephanie isn't even upset at that triangle: shouldn’t she at least see one into a relationship and then break it off if it’s not going to work before taking up with the other?

Yeah, I’m old-fashioned that way: one at a time, girls.

Finishing up with the two outstanding movies, Glenn Close’s portrayal in Albert Nobbs is without equal. The physical appearance of the character is entrancing because it’s difficult to distinguish between the woman actor and the fictional male character. The story is subtle, nuanced, layered as it builds from a quiet beginning to a silent fade-out. Close projects an intensity of emotion through her eyes that confirms the eyes as the windows to one’s soul, and she does this without moving another part of her body. When she meets “the painter,” neither she nor I is aware that he, too, is a woman in man’s clothing, doing a man’s job. That meeting becomes the pivotal moment of Albert Nobbs' life, the exact moment when his life begins to fade and her life begins to emerge. The film is, in the vernacular, A-MAAAA-ZING and an absolute tour d’force for Glenn Close.

The second film of note is The Iron Lady (starring Meryl Streep), which seems on the surface to be the story of Margaret Thatcher, Prime Minister of England, but is much more deeply the story of Margaret Thatcher, a woman whose political life becomes bigger than the sum of its personal parts. It is gut-wrenching to slowly realize that the old woman on the street is the same woman who carved a path into England’s history, but movingly poignant to accept that she is living her past again and again by keeping her deceased husband alive in her present. The day she finally throws away his suits and his shoes sent tears coursing down my cheeks as I realized that once she accepts the past, she also has to accept her present, and her present is devoid of the various forces that made her such a formidable woman. Not only was my heart on the screen, but it was also with my dear friend who is suffering from a slow mental decline herself, and reflected onto myself, especially the feelings of not being who I once was and not knowing who I currently am.

But, most importantly, I’ve been taking good care of my two girls, taking a walk every afternoon, and cuddling with them during the evening hours. I’ve been offered another female Jack Russell terrier, but that’s not a good idea either logistically or practically. The man up the street took the dog from his daughter, who has 4 other large dogs, and wants to find it a good home. He and I have exchanged pleasantries for the past year as I’ve walked past his home and greeted his little barkers, so I’m thinking that he told his daughter that he knows a patsy who will take the dog off their hands. Just sayin’. Mia is aging, but she’s still frisky enough to walk every day and strong enough to pull me to a sudden stop when she wants to sniff a bush, so I’m not ready to send her to the glue factory just yet. The problem is, of course, having someone stay with them when I want to travel, and that’s a problem often without solution, which means I stay home when I want to be gone.

Have some thinking to do.